Among a semi-civilised people (and look on them as we may, the Burmans are no more), superstition ever has a powerful, almost unassailable hold upon the public mind. The vague dread of future existence, the indefinable curiosity which tempts man to search, by his own endeavours, for the ultimate end of all his strivings on earth, is to be found more closely allied to a feeling of scientific appreciation among such a people than anywhere else. The imperfect comprehension of what is passing around, leads the untutored mind ever to trench on the supernatural world, of the existence of which he has an innate perception. But having no clear knowledge, unable perhaps to express his forebodings in a distinct and comprehensible manner, he runs to the priest, or the learned man, and, expecting a knowledge of futurity to be part of his learning, asks what the fate may be to which he is destined. The wise man, anxious to keep up a reputation for superior knowledge, invents something from the circumstances in which he knows the person to be placed. Subsequently he systematizes and arranges these notions, connecting them with the stars, those high and wonderful lights that unceasingly pass on in an ever-determined cycle above our heads. Such would seem to have been the origin of astrology. Divination is universally credited by the Burmese, and Dr. Buchanan’s picture, so melancholy as showing to what extent priestcraft obtained among them in his time (and it is probably not much decreased in their estimation now), is too interesting to be omitted in this place:— “No person will commence the building of a house, a journey, or the most trifling undertaking, without consulting some man of skill to find a fortunate day or hour. Friday is a most unlucky day, on which no business must be commenced. I saw several men of some rank, who had got from the king small boxes of _theriac_, or something like it, and which they pretended would render them invulnerable. I was often asked for medicines that would render the body impenetrable to a sword or musket-ball, and on answering that I knew of none such, my medical skill was held in very low estimation. Indeed, every Burman doctor has at the end of his book some charms, and what are called magical squares of figures, which he copies, and gives to be worn by his patients. And although these squares are all of uneven numbers, and consequently of the easiest construction, yet the ignorant multitude repose great confidence in their virtue. Some men, whom we saw, had small bits of gold or jewels introduced under the skin of their arms, in order to render themselves invulnerable; and the tattooing on the legs and thighs of the Burma men they not only think ornamental, but a preservative against the bite of snakes.”[141]