"Mankind are earthen jugs with spirits in them." - Hawthorne.

THE human body, the earthly tenement of the mind or soul, is, in construction and operation, very like the mechanical contrivance we call an engine ; with this difference, that the human engine is constructed of bone and sinew, the mechanical engine of wood, iron, and steel, but each is made up of an infinite number of parts. Every mechanical engine is built upon the plan that will best enable it to do the kind of work it is intended to perform ; some are so small that their mission is to become the interior works of a watch; some are built to propel a locomotive at high speed, and others to furnish power to some gigantic manufacturing establishment. In each case the plan of construction and size varies in accordance with the work to be done. The engine, no matter what may be its magnitude or power, is only a shell, a thing of great possibilities, but entirely useless and inoperative until the driving or propelling force which is to set it in motion is applied. This driving force is in some cases steam, in others water-power, compressed air, electricity, or, as in the case of the watch, the mainspring. In whatever way the compressed energy or driving power is generated, it is made available only by combining a large number of primary elements and forces.

Thus with steam, water is necessary, a boiler to hold it, fire to heat the water, a place in which to burn the fire, and fuel with which to build it. All other driving forces are in the same way made up from distinct and separate elements which, combined, will produce their particular kind of power. The engine, we have said, is useless without the driving force, which operates it, and it may be added that the driving force, if it has no engine to operate, only wastes itself in the air. The human body is the human engine ; it is built and especially adapted for specific purposes, it is the most complex of all machines, but it is entirely useless until the proper driving force is behind it. In its first stages of growth, the human body is a mere piece of protoplasm ; it is not until the dawn of mind and the awakening of intelligence manifest themselves that the hu-man embryo becomes a human being. We all know that life, the vital spark which enters our body and sets in motion the organs of mind and sense and makes us live, comes into us from a source outside of ourselves. The child before it is born is truly a human being, but it is alive only as any other organ of the mother's body is alive, viz.: it acts in a mechanical way and has motion.

This unborn child while in the process of formation, is getting ready to live, to think, and act, but until the vital spark of intelligence is projected into it, it does not really live. Just as the nose will become the future organ of the sense of smell, the ear of hearing, the eye of sight, so the lines in the hand are prepared and in the hand, ready to receive the spark that will set the entire machinery in motion. And when the vital spark of life has entered the body, as we believe through the ends of the fingers, and causes the nose, eyes, and ears to perform their functions, it at the same moment causes the hand to do its part. The unborn child has not life in the fullest sense: the corpse has not life, - life has departed. You or I cannot impart life to either, neither can they impart life to themselves. Argue as men will against the existence of God, they cannot deny that there is some omnipotent force outside of us all that gives life and takes it without consulting our wishes. Some have called this force Buddha, some Ether, some Electricity, some God, some the influence of the Planets. Whatever the name, the result is the same. But for the purposes of Palmistry you must at least imagine that a life current runs through the human body, and that it comes from an outside source.

I have observed in the birth of many children the moment at which the awakening takes place, and I have asked physicians to observe for me the same thing in the patients coming under their practice. The results have always been the same. At the moment the child is born, and before it has given the first cry, or taken air into the lungs, the fingers extend with a quick, spasmodic jerk, stand perfectly straight and rigid, and, following this involuntary motion of the hands, the lungs take in air, and a cry escapes from the lips. Life has begun. Shortly after, the child feels hunger, and the hand goes at once to the mouth. The brain is acting, and directing her servant, the hand, which seeks to carry food to the mouth, the proper place to receive it. Thus from the first moment of life, the hand takes its place as the servant of the brain, and I believe that at the moment the fingers of the child extend, and become straight and rigid, that life, the vital spark which sets the human machinery in motion, awakens the mind, and habilitates the senses, is projected into the child through the ends of the rigid fingers, and thus becomes the gift of God to His creature. But I do not ask you to believe in any name for this outside force.

Call it what you please, but if you will picture to yourself that life comes into the body as above described, this conception will greatly aid you in reasoning out many combinations that you will encounter in your future studies.

Now after life has begun and the child is in the world, a human engine with its driving force, it has a career before it. For the first few months it is little more than an animal, as all of its time is spent in sleeping, eating, and growing. During this period, its hands, by the thick development of the third phalanges of the fingers, show it to be a mere sensualist whose sole desire is to satisfy its hunger. As months roll into the first year, less sleep and less feeding are necessary, and as years increase and mind develops, the trend of its thought begins to manifest itself. During all this time the brain is unfolding, and the hand is changing from the fat little sensual hand of the baby, and taking whatever shape is distinctive to the type to which the child belongs. Up to the age of twelve to fourteen years, the hand is as unformed as the character of the child; but as this age marks the transition from the child to the adult, soon after it is passed the character and hands will begin to assume the proportions which are to guide it in the future. This is the time when a scientific estimate of the character of the child - its type, whether good, bad, or weak in development, together with a knowledge of all the forces back of it - would be of inestimable value to a parent.