head of hair, was remarkably cruel.  He professed to have been able, from a long course of observation, to assign to every different colour and variety of hair, its peculiar temperament and character.  One mental quality was indicated by its length, another by its fineness, and others again as it chanced to be greasy, or lank, or curled.  He would also blow on it with a bellows, to see how the parts arranged themselves:  hold it near the fire, and watch the operation of its crisping by the heat:  and although he had often been mistaken in his estimates of character, by the rules of his new science, he did not lose the confidence of his disciples on that account—­some of them refusing to believe the truth, rather than to admit themselves mistaken; and others insisting that, if his science was not infallible, it very rarely deceived.”

It was now our turn to submit our hands to Avarabet for examination.  He discovered signs of the loftiest virtues and most heroic enterprise in the Brahmin; and, near the bottom of one of his nails, a deep-rooted sorrow, which would leave him only with his life.  A transient shade of gloom on the Brahmin’s countenance was soon succeeded by a piercing, inquisitive glance cast on the diviner.  He saw the other’s eyes directed on the miniature which he always wore, and which discovered itself to Avarabet as he stooped forward.  A smile of contempt now took the place of his first surprise, and he seemed in a state of abstraction, during the continued rhapsodies of the oracle.

My hand was next examined; but little was said of me, except that I had been a great traveller, and should be so again; that I should encounter many dangers and difficulties; that I possessed more intelligence than sensibility, and more prudence than generosity.  Thus he discovered in me great courage, enterprise, and constancy of purpose.

A hale, robust, well-set man, now bursting through the crowd, and thrusting out his hand, abruptly asked the wise man to tell him, if he could, in what part of the country he lived.  Avarabet mentioned a distant district on the coast of Morosofia.

“Good,” said the other; “and what is my calling?”

After a slight pause, he replied, that he got his living on the water.

“Good again.  Shall I ever be rich?”

“No, not very:—­never.”

“Better and better,” rejoined the inquirer, at the same time giving vent to a loud and hearty laugh.  Surely, thought I, sailors are every where the same sort of beings, rough and boisterous as the elements they roam over.

“And what is your opinion of me farther?”

“You are bold, frank, improvident, credulous and good-natured.”