in Europe, we can hardly go to a better place than our own country; a proper English term for it is 'reading the spealbone' (speal = espaule). In Ireland, Camden describes the looking through the blade-bone of a sheep, to find a dark spot which foretells a death, and Drayton thus commemorates the art in his Polyolbion :— 'By th' shoulder of a ram from off the right side par'd, Things long to come foreshowes, as things done long agone.'1 Chiromancy, or palmistry, seems much like this, though it is also mixed up with astrology. It flourished in ancient Greece and Italy as it still does in India, where to say, 'It is written on the palms of my hands,' is a usual way of expressing a sense of inevitable fate. Chiromancy traces in the markings of the palm a line of fortune and a line of life, finds proof of melancholy in the intersections on the saturnine mount, presages sorrow and death from black spots in the finger-nails, and at last, having exhausted the powers of this childish symbolism, it completes its system by details of which the absurdity is no longer relieved by even an ideal sense. The art has its modern votaries not merely among Gypsy fortune-tellers, but in what is called 'good society.' 2 It may again and again thus be noticed in magic arts, that the association of ideas is obvious up to a certain point. Thus when the New Zealand sorcerer took omens by the way his divining sticks (guided by spirits) fell, he quite naturally said it was a good omen if the stick representing his own tribe fell on top of that representing the enemy, and vice versa. Zulu diviners still work a similar process with their magical pieces of stick, which rise to say yes and vol. vii. p. 65; Grimm, 'D. M.' p. 1067; R. F. Burton, 'Sindh,' p. 189; M. A. Walker, 'Macedonia,' p. 169. 1 Brand, vol. iii. p. 339; Forbes Leslie, vol. ii. p. 491. 2 Maury, 'Magie, &c.,' p. 74; Brand, vol. iii. p. 348, &c. See figure in Cornelius Agrippa, 'De Occult. Philosoph.' ii. 27. fall to say no, jump upon the head or stomach or other affected part of the patient's body to show where his complaint is, and lie pointing towards the house of the doctor who can cure him. So likewise, where a similar device was practised ages ago in the Old World, the responses were taken from staves which (by the operation of demons) fell backward or forward, to the right or left. But when processes of this kind are developed to complexity, the system has, of course, to be completed by more arbitrary arrangements. This is well shown in one of the divinatory arts mentioned in the last chapter for their connexion with games of chance. In cartomancy, the art of fortune-telling with packs of cards, there is a sort of nonsensical sense in such rules as that two queens mean friendship and four mean chattering, or that the knave of hearts prophesies a brave young man who will come into the family to be useful, unless his purpose be reversed by his card being upside down. But of course the pack can only furnish a limited number of such comparatively rational interpretations, and the rest must be left to such arbitrary fancy as that the seven of diamonds means a prize in the lottery, and the ten of the same suit an unexpected journey.2 A remarkable group of divining instruments illustrates another principle. In South-East Asia, the Sgau Karens, at funeral feasts, hang a bangle or metal ring by a thread over a brass basin, which the relatives of the dead approach in succession and strike on the edge with a bit of bamboo; when the one who was most beloved touches the basin, the dead man's spirit responds by twisting and stretching the string till it breaks and the ring falls into the cup, or at least till it rings against it.3 Nearer Central Asia, in the 1 R. Taylor, 'New Zealand,' p. 205; Shortland, p. 139; Callaway, 'Religion of Amazulu,' p. 330, &c.; Theophylact. in Brand, vol. iii. p. 332. Compare mentions of similar devices; Herodot. iv. 67 (Scythia); Burton, 'Central Africa,' vol. ii. p. 350. 2 Migne's 'Dic. des Sciences Occultes.' 3 Mason, Karens,' in 'Journ. As. Soc. Bengal,' 1865, part ii. p. 200; Bastian, 'Oestl. Asien,' vol. i. p. 146. north-east corner of India, among the Bodo and Dhimal, the professional exorcist has to find out what deity has entered into a patient's body to punish him for some impiety by an attack of illness; this he discovers by setting thirteen leaves round him on the ground to represent the gods, and then holding a pendulum attached to his thumb by a string, till the god in question is persuaded by invocation to declare himself, making the pendulum swing towards his representative leaf. These mystic arts (not to go into the question how these tribes came to use them) are rude forms of the classical dactyliomancy, of which so curious an account is given in the trial of the conspirators Patricius and Hilarius, who worked it to find out who was to supplant the emperor Valens. A round table was marked at the edge with the letters of the alphabet, and with prayers and mystic ceremonies a ring was held suspended over it by a thread, and by swinging or stopping towards certain letters gave the responsive words of the oracle.2 Dactyliomancy has dwindled in Europe to the art of finding out what o'clock it is by holding a ring hanging inside a tumbler by a thread, till, without conscious aid by the operator, it begins to swing and strikes the hour. Father Schott, in his 'Physica Curiosa' (1662), refrains with commendable caution from ascribing this phenomenon universally to demoniac influence. It survives among ourselves in child's play, and though we are 'no conjurers,' we may learn something from the little instrument, which remarkably displays the effects of insensible movement. The operator really gives slight inpulses till they accumulate to a considerable vibration, as in ringing a church-bell by very gentle pulls exactly timed. That he does, though unconsciously, cause and direct the swings, may be shown by an attempt to work the instrument with the operator's eyes shut, which will be found to fail, the directing power being lost. The action of the famous divining-rod with its curiously versatile sensibility to water, ore, 1 Hodgson, 'Abor. of India,' p. 170. See Macpherson, p. 106 (Khonds). 2 Ammian. Marcellin. xxix. 1. treasure, and thieves, seems to belong partly to trickery by professional Dousterswivels, and partly to more or less conscious direction by honester operators. It is still known in England, and in Germany they are apt to hide it in a baby's clothes, and so get it baptized for greater efficiency.1 To conclude this group of divinatory instruments, chance or the operator's direction may determine the action of one of the most familiar of classic and mediæval ordeals, the so-called coscinomancy, or, as it is described in Hudibras, 'th' oracle of sieve and shears, that turns as certain as the spheres.' The sieve was held hanging by a thread, or by the points of a pair of shears stuck into its rim, and it would turn, or swing, or fall, at the mention of a thief's name, and give similar signs for other purposes. Of this ancient rite, the Christian ordeal of the Bible and key, still in frequent use, is a variation: the proper way to detect a thief by this is to read the 50th Psalm to the apparatus, and when it hears the verse, 'When thou sawest a thief, then thou consentedst with him,' it will turn to the culprit.2 Count de Maistre, with his usual faculty of taking an argument up at the wrong end, tells us that judicial astrology no doubt hangs to truths of the first order, which have been taken from us as useless or dangerous, or which we cannot recognize under their new forms.3 A sober examination of the subject may rather justify the contrary opinion, that it is on an error of the first order that astrology depends, the error of mistaking ideal analogy for real connexion. Astrology, in the immensity of its delusive influence on mankind, and by the comparatively modern period to which it remained an honoured branch of philo 1 Chevreul, 'De la Baguette Divinatoire, du Pendule dit Explorateur, et des Tables Tournantes,' Paris, 1854; Brand, vol. iii. p. 332; Grimm, 'D. M.' p. 926; H. B. Woodward, in 'Geological Mag.,' Nov. 1872; Wuttke, P. 94. 2 Cornelius Agrippa, 'De Speciebus Magiæ,' xxi.; Brand, vol. iii. p. 351; Grimm, 'D. M.' p. 1062. * De Maistre, 'Soirées de St. Petersbourg,' vol. ii. p. 212. sophy, may claim the highest rank among the occult sciences. It scarcely belongs to very low levels of civilization, although one of its fundamental conceptions, namely, that of the souls or animating intelligences of the celestial bodies, is rooted in the depths of savage life. Yet the following Maori specimen of astrological reasoning is as real an argument as could be found in Paracelsus or Agrippa, nor is there reason to doubt its being home-made. When the siege of a New Zealand 'pa' is going on, if Venus is near the moon, the natives naturally imagine the two as enemy and fortress; if the planet is above, the foe will have the upper hand; but if below, then the men of the soil will be able to defend themselves.1 Though the early history of astrology is obscure, its great development and elaborate systematization were undoubtedly the work of civilized nations of the ancient and medieval world. As might be well supposed, a great part of its precepts have lost their intelligible sense, or never had any, but the origin of many others is still evident. To a considerable extent they rest on direct symbolism. Such are the rules which connect the sun with gold, with the heliotrope and pæony, with the cock which heralds day, with magnanimous animals, such as the lion and bull; and the moon with silver, and the changing chamæleon, and the palm-tree, which was considered to send out a monthly shoot. Direct symbolism is plain in that main principle of the calculation of nativities, the notion of the ascendant' in the horoscope, which reckons the part of the heavens rising in the east at the moment of a child's birth as being connected with the child itself, and prophetic of its future life.2 It is an old story, that when two brothers were once taken ill together, Hippokrates the physician concluded from the coincidence that they were twins, but Poseidonios the astrologer considered rather that they were born under the same constellation: we may add, 1 Shortland, 'Trads., &c. of New Zealand,' p. 138. 2 See Cicero, 'De Div.' i.; Lucian. 'De Astrolog.'; Cornelius Agrippa, 'De Occulta Philosophia;' Sibly, 'Occult Sciences;' Brand, vol. iii. |