Black Magic, the Kishuph of the Hebrews, avows openly its purpose of forming a league with evil spirits in order to attain selfish ends, which are invariably fatal to others. And yet it is exactly here that we meet with great numbers of well-authenticated cases of success, which preclude all doubt and force us to admit the occasional efficiency of such sinful alliances. The art flourishes naturally best among the lowest races of mankind, where gross ignorance is allied with blind faith, and the absence of inspiration leaves the mind in natural darkness. We cannot help being struck here also with the fact that the means employed for such purposes have been the same in almost all ages. Readers of classic writers are familiar with the drum of Cybele--the Laplanders have from time immemorial had the same drum, on which heaven, hell, and earth are painted in bright colors, and reproduce in pictorial writing the letters of the modern spiritualist. A ring is placed upon the tightly stretched skin, which slight blows with a hammer cause to vibrate, and according to the apparently erratic motions of the ring over the varied figures of gods, men, and beasts, the future is revealed. The consulting savage lies on his knees, and as the pendulum between our fingers and the pencil of Planchette in our hand write apparently at haphazard, but in reality under the pressure of our muscles acting through the unconscious influence of our will, so here also the beats of the hammer only seem to be fortuitous, but, in reality, are guided by the ecstatic owner. For already Olaf Magnus ("Hist. Goth." L. 3, ch. 26) tells us that the incessant beating of the drum, and the wild, exulting singing of the magician for hours before the actual ceremony begins, cause him to fall into a state of exaltation, without which he would be unable to see the future. That the drum is a mere accident in the ceremony was strikingly proved by a Laplander, who delivered up his instrument of witchcraft to the pious missionary (Tornaeus) by whom he had been converted, and who soon came to complain that even without his drum he could not help seeing hidden things--an assertion which he proved by reciting to the amazed minister all the minute details of his recent journey. Who can help, while reading of these savage magicians, recalling the familiar ring and drumstick in the left hand of the Roman Isis--statues with a drum above the head, or the rarely missing ring and hammer in the hands of the Egyptian Isis? It need hardly be added that the Indians of our continent have practised the art with more or less success from the day of discovery to our own times. Already Wafer in his "Descr. of the Isthmus of Darien" (1699) describes how Indian sorcerers, after careful preparation, were able to inform him of a number of future events, every one of which came to pass in the succeeding days. The prince of Neu-Wied again met a famous medicine-man among the Crea Indians, whose prophecies