CHAPTER III.

THE MAGIC MIRROR.

There is an old superstition, current, probably, in most parts of the

country, that the breaking of a mirror will be followed by bad

luck--usually a death in the family. This is, doubtless, the survival of

a still older superstition--the belief in certain magic qualities of the

mirror, which enabled it in certain circumstances to reflect the distant

and to forecast the future. Nor was this superstition so childish as

were some other popular delusions of old, for it had a certain

philosophic basis. It is the peculiar property of the mirror to

represent truth; to reproduce faithfully that which is; to show us

ourselves as others see us. This is the idea expressed by Hamlet: 'To

hold the mirror up to Nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her

own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.'

The mirror has been, from time immemorial, a favourite form of charm for

the exorcism of devils, and, indeed, to this day some of the African

tribes believe that the best defence they have against their extremely

ugly devil is a mirror. If they keep one at hand, the devil must see

himself in it before he can touch them, and be so terrified at his own

ugliness that he will turn tail and flee.

We may take this symbolically--that a man shrinks from his worst self

when it is revealed to him; but the untutored mind is prone to mistake

symbol for fact. In this way, while the ancient philosophers may have

used the mirror as a symbol of the higher nature of man, so polished and

clarified that it showed him his lower nature in all its deformity, the

crowd came to regard the crystal as an actual instrument of divination.

Some of the oldest romances in the world have to do with the magical

operation of the mirror. In the Gesta Romanorum there is a story of a

knight who went to Palestine, and who while there was shown by an

Eastern magician in a mirror what was going on at home. In the Arabian

Nights the story of Prince Ahmed has a variant, an ivory tube through

which could be discovered the far-distant--a sort of anticipation of Sam

Weller's 'double million magnifying gas microscope of hextra power.'

In the story of Prince Zeyn Alasnam, the enchanted mirror was able to

reflect character, and was called the Touchstone of Virtue. Here again

we have Hamlet's idea of holding the mirror up to Nature. The young

King, Zeyn Alasnam, had eight beautiful statues of priceless value, and

he wanted a ninth to make up his set. The difficulty was to find one

beautiful enough; but the Prince of Spirits promised to supply one as

soon as Zeyn should bring him a maiden at least fifteen years old, and

of perfect beauty; only the maiden must not be vain of her charms, and

she must never have told an untruth. Zeyn employed his magic mirror, and

for a long time without success, as it always became blurred when he

looked into it in the presence of a girl. At last he found one whose

image was faithfully and brilliantly reflected--whose modesty and

truthfulness were attested by the mirror. He took her with reluctance to

the Prince of Spirits, because he had fallen in love with her himself;

but his faithfulness to the contract was duly rewarded. On returning

home, he found that the ninth statue, placed on its pedestal by the

Prince of Spirits according to promise, was no cold marble, but the

peerless and virtuous maiden whom he had discovered by means of his

mirror.

Paracelsus, in one of his treatises on Magic, gives the following

account of the uses to which 'the witches and evil spirits' sometimes

put the mirror.

'They take a mirror set in a wooden frame and put it into a tub of

water, so that it will swim on the top with its face directed towards

the sky. On the top of the mirror, and encircling the glass, they lay a

cloth saturated with blood, and thus they expose it to the influence of

the moon; and this evil influence is thrown towards the moon, and

radiating again from the moon, it may bring evil to those who love to

look at the moon. The rays of the moon, passing through the ring upon

the mirror, become poisoned, and poison the mirror; the mirror throws

back the poisoned ether into the atmosphere, and the moon and the mirror

poison each other, in the same manner as two malicious persons, by

looking at each other, poison each other's souls with their eyes. If a

mirror is strongly poisoned in this manner, the witch takes good care of

it; and if she desires to injure someone, she takes a waxen image made

in his name, she surrounds it with a cloth spotted with blood, and

throws the reflex of the mirror through the opening in the middle upon

the head of the figure, or upon some other part of its body, using at

the same time her evil imagination and curses; and the man whom the

image represents may then have his vitality dried up, and his blood

poisoned by that evil influence, and he may become diseased and his body

covered with boils.'

This, of course, is not divination, but sorcery.

Paracelsus gives very minute directions for the making of a magic

mirror. The material should be the 'electrum magicum,' which is a

compound of ten parts of pure gold, ten of silver, five of copper, two

of tin, two of lead, one part of powdered iron, and five parts of

mercury. When the planets Saturn and Mercury conjoin, the lead has to be

melted and the mercury added. Then the metal must cool, while you wait

for a conjunction of Jupiter with Saturn and Mercury; when that occurs,

you melt the amalgam of lead and mercury, and add the tin, previously

melted in a separate crucible, at the exact moment of conjunction. Again

you wait for a conjunction of either of the above-named planets with

the Sun, when you add the gold; with the Moon, when you add the silver;

with Venus, when you add the copper. Finally, when a conjunction of

either of the planets occurs with Mars, you must complete your mixture

with the powdered iron, and stir up the whole molten mass with a dry rod

of witch-hazel.

Thus far your metal; but the mirror is not made yet. It must be of about

two inches diameter, and must be founded in moulds of fine sand at the

moment when a conjunction of Jupiter and Venus occurs. The mirror must

be smoothed with a grindstone and polished with tripoly and a piece of

lime-wood; but all the operations must be conducted only when the

planetary influences are favourable.

By selecting the proper hours, three different mirrors may be prepared,

and then, at a time of conjunction of two 'good' planets, while the Sun

or Moon 'stands on the house of the lord of the hour of your birth,' the

three mirrors should be placed in pure well-water and left for an hour.

After this they may be wrapped in clean linen and kept ready for use.

With a mirror made in this way from the 'electrum magicum,' Paracelsus

says:

'You may see the events of the past and the present, absent friends or

enemies, and see what they are doing. You may see in it any object you

may desire to see, and all the doings of men in daytime or at night. You

may see in it anything that has been ever written down, said, or spoken

in the past, and also see the person who said it, and the causes that

made him say what he did, and you may see in it anything, however secret

it may have been kept.'

Mirrors made of the 'electrum magicum' are warranted antipathetic to all

evil influences, because there is hidden in the metal a 'heavenly power

and influence of the seven planets.'

The plastic and creative power of the mind is the power of imagination;

but the power of imagination is, or should be, controlled by the will.

It is not alone the mediaeval dabblers in the occult who have adopted, or

endeavoured to adopt, various means for suspending the will and making

the imagination passive.

The ancient Pythoness, as Dr. Franz Hartmann, the modern German exponent

of the Science of Magic, pointed out, attempted to heighten her

receptivity by the inhalation of noxious vapours; uncivilized peoples

use poison, or the maddening whirl of the dance; others use opium, Indian

hemp, or other narcotics--all for the same purpose, to suspend the will,

render the mind a blank, and excite the brain so as to produce morbid

fancies and illusions. The fortune-teller and the clairvoyant employ

methods of their own for concentrating their attention, so as produce a

condition of mental passivity. The Indian adept prides himself on being

able to extract volition and suspend imagination by the mere exercise of

will.

A favourite device to bring about mental passivity has always been by

staring at mirrors, or crystal, or sheets of water, or even pools of ink.

'There are numerous prescriptions for the preparation of magic mirrors,'

says Dr. Hartmann in his work on Magic, 'but the best magic mirror will

be useless to him who is not able to see clairvoyantly, while the

natural clairvoyant may call that faculty into action by concentrating

his mind on any particular spot, a glass of water, ink, a crystal, or

anything else. For it is not in the mirror where such things are seen,

but in the mind; the mirror merely serves to assist in the entering of

that mental state which is necessary to produce clairvoyant sight. The

best of all mirrors is the soul of man, and it should be always kept

pure, and be protected against dust, and dampness, and rust, so that it

may not become tarnished, but remain perfectly clear, and able to

reflect the light of the divine spirit in its original purity.'

A German writer of the fifteenth century takes a less favourable view of

what he calls pyromancy, although pyromancy is really divination by

fire. He reports the practices of certain Masters of Magic, who made

children look into a wretched mirror for the purpose of obtaining

information in an unholy manner. 'Young boys are said to behold future

things and all things, in a crystal. Base, desperate, and faint-hearted

Christians practise it, to whom the shadow and the phantom of the devil

are dearer than the truth of God. Some take a clear and beautifully

polished crystal, or beryl, which they consecrate and keep clean, and

treat with incense, myrrh, and the like. And when they propose to

practise their art, they wait for a clear day, or select some clean

chamber in which are many candles burning. The Masters then bathe, and

take the pure child into the room with them, and clothe themselves in

pure white garments, and sit down and speak in magic sentences, and then

burn their magic offering, and make the boy look into the stone, and

whisper in his ears secret words which have, as they think, some holy

import, but which are verily words of the devil.'

A sixteenth-century German tells of a man at Elbingen, in Prussia, who

'predicted hidden truths' by means of a mirror, and sold the knowledge

to his customers. Many crystal-seeing old hags are referred to as being

upon terms of intimacy with Black Kaspar. Indeed, in German literature,

both historical, philosophical, legendary, and romantic, we find endless

references to the magic mirror and the divining crystal.

Modern romancists still find dramatic use for the old superstitions.

Quite recently a novel of the present day centred its interest upon an

ancient mirror, which exchanged its reflection for the mind of him who

gazed into it--a practical and startling realization of the idea that

the glass reveals one's true self. Then, not to multiply incidents,

Wilkie Collins, in The Moonstone, introduces what Mr. Rudyard Kipling in

another story calls the 'ink-pool'; and readers of Dante Gabriel

Rossetti will recall to mind the doings of the Spirits of the Beryl.

In a large number of stories the magic mirror is not a looking-glass at

all. But the beryl, the ink-pool, Dr. Dee's famous spherical speculum,

the rock crystal, or even a glass of water, may all, according to the

adepts, have the same properties as Vulcan's mirror, in which Penelope,

the wife of Ulysses, beheld, according to Sir John Davies, a vision of

all the wonder and grandeur of Queen Elizabeth's Court to be. Even a

polished sword-blade has been asserted to have made an effective magic

mirror, and it is recorded that Jacob Boehme penetrated into the

innermost secrets of nature and the hearts of men by means of a tin cup.

As to cups, the Septuagint gives one to understand that the cup placed

by Joseph in the sack of Benjamin in Egypt was not an ordinary

drinking-vessel, but a divining-cup. Now, the way of divining with a cup

was to fill it with pure water, and to read the images which were then

reflected.

Some writers have supposed, from the mention of Urim and Thummim in

Exodus, that divination by mirror was a recognised institution among the

Jews. Urim signifies 'lights,' and Thummim 'reflections,' and the names

were applied to the six bright and six dark precious stones on the

breastplate of the high priest when he went to seek special revelations.

Cambuscan's mirror was, according to Chaucer, of Oriental origin. It was

given by the King of Tartary to the King of Araby, and it seemed to

possess all the virtues of several kinds of magic mirrors. Thus it

showed whether love was returned, whether an individual confronted with

it were friend or foe, and what trouble was in store for those who

consulted it. Merlin's mirror, also called Venus's looking-glass, had

some of these properties, but was made in Wales, and was given by

Merlin to King Ryence. It revealed what was being done by friend or foe

at a distance, and it also enabled the fair Britomart to read the

features, and also the name, of her future husband.

The consultation of a pool, on certain special occasions, for the

lineaments of 'the coming man,' has been a common enough practice with

love-sick damsels in much more recent times.

The wonderful looking-glass of Lao, described by Lien Chi Altangi in

Goldsmith's Citizen of the World, reflected the mind as well as the

body, and the Emperor Chusi used to make his ladies dress both their

heads and their hearts before it every morning. Great, however, as are

the Chinese in divination, and numerous as are their superstitions, we

do not find, _pace_ Oliver Goldsmith, that the mirror occupies any

prominent place in their magic.

One of the most famous dealers in catoptromancy (divination by mirror)

in this country was Dr. John Dee, who flourished about the middle of the

sixteenth century. He had a speculum called the Shew Stone, and

sometimes the Holy Stone, with which he divined by the aid of a medium

named Kelly. This Kelly was a notoriously bad character, so his example

does not carry out the popular idea that the seer must be a stainless

child, or some absolutely pure-minded being. Dr. Dee professed to have a

number of regular spirit-visitors, whom he described with much

circumstantial minuteness, and thus his mirror-magic seems to have

possessed more of the character of spiritualistic manifestations than

of the usual Oriental crystallomancy.

The famous Cagliostro--Prince of Scoundrels, as Carlyle called him--used

a bottle of pure water, into which he directed a child to gaze, with

results which were not always satisfactory.

The Orientalist, Lane, published some sixty years ago, or more, a

circumstantial narrative of an experience he had with an Egyptian

magician, along with Mr. Salt, a British Consul. Invocations were

liberally used, in order to summon the two genii of the magician, and

verses were recited from the Koran, in order that the eyes of the

medium--a boy--should be opened in a supernatural manner. The magician

selected one at random from a group of boys, and drew in the palm of the

boy's right hand a magic square, inscribed with Arabic figures. He then

poured ink into the centre, and told the boy to gaze fixedly, while he

himself proceeded to drop more written invocations, on slips of paper,

into a chafing-dish.

For some time the boy saw nothing but the reflection of the magician,

and then he began to describe various scenes. At last Lane asked that

Lord Nelson should be called up, and the boy said that he saw a man in

dark-blue clothes, with his left arm across his breast. It was explained

that the boy saw things as in a mirror, and that Nelson's empty right

sleeve worn across the breast naturally appeared in the glass as the

left arm. Now, the boy may have heard of Nelson, but could scarcely have

seen him, though the figure of so famous a man must have been familiar

to the magician. Hypnotism has, therefore, been suggested as the

explanation of what Lane witnessed, and which seemed so miraculous at

the time.

Many scholars, philosophers, and scientific students of mediaeval times,

who had no pretence to magic, had yet firm faith in the power of

mirrors, constructed in a special manner and under auspicious planetary

influences, to reveal both the distant-present and the future.

One of the modern adepts was a French magician, who foretold by his

mirror the death of a Prince, and the regency of the Duc d'Orleans.

There are many published prescriptions for the making of a magic mirror,

but that which has already been given from Paracelsus is a fair specimen

of the ultra-scientific method. Among directions for the use of the

crystal may be cited those of Barth:

'When a crystal has been ground and polished, it is dedicated to some

spirit or other; this is called its consecration. Before being used, it

is charged--that is, an invocation is made to the spirit, wherein a

vision is requested of the things that one wishes to experience.

Ordinarily, a young person is chosen to look into the glass and behold

the prayed-for vision. After a little time the crystal becomes enveloped

in a cloud, and a tiny vision appears, which represents in miniature the

persons, scenes, and things that are necessary to supply the required

information. When the information has been obtained, the crystal is

discharged, and after receiving thanks for the services he has

performed, the spirit is dismissed.'

In modern crystal-gazing and mirror-reading, however, there is no

invocation.

An American spiritualist says that he once put a crystal into the hands

of a lady who knew nothing about its reputed virtues, but who

straightway began to describe a scene which she saw in it, and which

turned out afterwards to be a simultaneous incident at Trebizond. The

mediumistic influence of the spirit of a North American Indian may not

commend the story to non-spiritualists.

The experiences of the Countess Wurmbrand, as related in her curious

book, Visionen im Wasserglass, are more matter-of-fact, perhaps, but

were also assisted by a mysterious spirit, who enabled her to read

pictures in the glass and to describe them to her husband. She was more

successful in her time than more recent experimenters and psychologists

of her own country have been since.

The Society for Psychical Research have given much attention to the

subject, and have reported some remarkable observations--especially

those of Miss Goodrich, a lady who has made several scores of

experiments of her own in crystal-reading, always taking notes

immediately. She tried the back of a watch, a glass of water, a mirror,

and other reflecting surfaces, before arriving at the conclusion that

polished rock crystal affords the best speculum for divination.

Having reached this point, the lady draped her selected crystal in

black, set it where no surrounding objects could be reflected in it, and

sought it when in search of light and leading. Sometimes her

consultations were very practical. Thus, one finds among her notes:

'I had carelessly destroyed a letter without preserving the address of

my correspondent. I knew the county, and searching a map, recognised the

name of the town, one unfamiliar to me, but which I was sure I should

know when I saw it. But I had no clue to the name of the house or

street, till at last it struck me to test the value of the crystal as a

means of recalling forgotten knowledge. A very short inspection supplied

me with "Hibbs House," in gray letters on a white ground, and having

nothing better to suggest from any other source, I risked posting my

letter to the address so strangely supplied. A day or two brought an

answer headed "Hibbs House" in gray letters on a white ground.'

Let us take an example of another of Miss Goodrich's crystal-readings,

and let it be remembered that they are all reported as experiments of

our own day:

'One of my earliest experiences was of a picture, perplexing and wholly

unexpected--a quaint oak chair, an old hand, a worn black coat-sleeve

resting on the arm of the chair--slowly recognised as a recollection of

a room in a country vicarage which I had not entered, and but seldom

recalled, since I was a child of ten. But whence came this vision? What

association has conjured up this picture? What have I done to-day? At

length the clue is found. I have to-day been reading Dante, first

enjoyed with the help of our dear old vicar many a year ago.'

And again: 'I happened to want the date of Ptolemy Philadelphus, which I

could not recall, though feeling sure that I knew it, and that I

associated it with some event of importance. When looking in the

crystal, some hours later, I found a picture of an old man, with long,

white hair and beard, dressed like a Lyceum Shylock, and busy writing in

a large book with tarnished massive clasps. I wondered much who he was,

and what he could possibly be doing, and thought it a good opportunity

of carrying out a suggestion which had been made to me of examining

objects in the crystal with a magnifying-glass. The glass revealed to me

that my old gentleman was writing in Greek, though the lines faded away

as I looked, all but the characters he had last traced, the Latin

numerals LXX. Then it flashed into my mind that he was one of the Jewish

Elders at work on the Septuagint, and that this date, 277 B.C., would

serve equally well for Ptolemy Philadelphus. It may be worth while to

add, though the fact was not in my conscious memory at the moment, that

I had once learnt a chronology on a mnemonic system which substituted

letters for figures, and the _memoria technica_ for this date was, "Now

Jewish Elders indite a Greek copy."'

One may, perhaps, find a simple and easy explanation of Miss Goodrich's

mirror-reading, in a theory of unconscious cerebration. The crystal

simply assisted her memory, and recalled incidents and scenes, just as

a chance odour, a bar of music, a word, a look, a name, will often do

for most of us. Clearly there is nothing necessarily either magic or

spiritualistic in this particular example of the magic mirror.

There are, however, some other experiments recorded which seem to be

only explainable on a theory of telepathy; but Mr. Max Dessoir,

commenting on the evidence of Miss Goodrich in an American Review,

attributes the whole phenomena merely to 'revived memory.'

This is all very well as to past events, but what shall we say to a case

such as the following, among Miss Goodrich's experiments?

'In January last I saw in the crystal the figure of a man crouching at a

small window, and looking into the room from the outside. I could not

see his features, which appeared to be muffled, but the crystal was

particularly dark that evening, and the picture being an unpleasant one,

I did not persevere. I concluded the vision to be a result of a

discussion in my presence of the many stories of burglary with which the

newspapers had lately abounded, and reflected with a passing

satisfaction that the only windows in the house divided into four panes,

as were those of the crystal picture, were in the front attic, and

almost inaccessible. Three days later a fire broke out in that very

room, which had to be entered from outside through the window, the face

of the fireman being covered with a wet cloth as a protection from the

smoke, which rendered access through the door impossible.'

Was this coincidence, or prevision, or what Mr. Dessoir calls the

'falsification of memory'? The thing was either a miracle, which none of

us is prepared to accept, or the after-confusion of a vague foreboding

with an actual occurrence in the mind of the observer. Mr. Dessoir

suggested another explanation of crystal pictures in the doctrine of the

double consciousness of the human soul; but that opens up another

subject.

While we have seen that mirror and crystal-reading is one of the most

ancient of occult practices, we have also seen that it is practised in

our own country even at this day. Moreover, it is said that there is in

England a wholesale manufacture of magic mirrors as a regular

industry--the site of which, however, the present writer is unable to

specify.

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