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 linéaments 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’Orléans.
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.