There is a natural tendency in the human mind to cast the burden of its doubts upon a higher power, and to relieve itself from the effort of decision by seeking in the unknown the solution of its difficulties. Between the fetish worshippers of Congo and the polished sceptics who frequented the _salon_ of Mlle. le Normant, the distance, though great, is bridged over by this common weakness; and whether the information sought be of the past or of the future, the impulse is the same. When, therefore, in the primitive _mallum_, the wisdom of the _rachinborgs_ was at fault, and the absence or equal balance of testimony rendered a verdict difficult, what was more natural than to appeal for a decision to the powers above, and to leave the matter to the judgment of God?[284] Nor, with the warlike instincts of the race, is it surprising that this appeal should be made to the God of battles, to whom, whether they addressed him as Odin or Sabaoth, they looked in every case for a special interposition in favor of innocence. The curious mingling of procedure, in these untutored seekings after justice, is well illustrated in a form of process prescribed by the primitive Bavarian law. A man comes into court with six conjurators to claim an estate; the possessor defends his right with a single witness, who must be a landholder of the vicinage. The claimant then attacks the veracity of the witness—“Thou hast lied against me. Grant me the single combat, and let God make manifest whether thou hast sworn truth or falsehood;”[285] and, according to the event of the duel is the decision as to the truthfulness of the witness and the ownership of the property. * * * * *