all to mind the doings of the Spirits of the Beryl.

In a large number of stories the magic mirror is not a looking-glass at
all. But the beryl, the ink-pool, Dr. Dee's famous spherical speculum,
the rock crystal, or even a glass of water, may all, according to the
adepts, have the same properties as Vulcan's mirror, in which Penelope,
the wife of Ulysses, beheld, according to Sir John Davies, a vision of
all the wonder and grandeur of Queen Elizabeth's Court to be. Even a
polished sword-blade has been asserted to have made an effective magic
mirror, and it is recorded that Jacob Boehme penetrated into the
innermost secrets of nature and the hearts of men by means of a tin cup.

As to cups, the Septuagint gives one to understand that the cup placed
by Joseph in the sack of Benjamin in Egypt was not an ordinary
drinking-vessel, but a divining-cup. Now, the way of divining with a cup
was to fill it with pure water, and to read the images which were then
reflected.

Some writers have supposed, from the mention of Urim and Thummim in
Exodus, that divination by mirror was a recognised institution among the
Jews. Urim signifies 'lights,' and Thummim 'reflections,' and the names
were applied to the six bright and six dark precious stones on the
breastplate of the high priest when he went to seek special revelations.

Cambuscan's mirror was, according to Chaucer, of Oriental origin. It was
given by the King of Tartary to the King of Araby, and it seemed to
possess all the virtues of several kinds of magic mirrors. Thus it
showed whether love was returned, whether an individual confronted with
it were friend or foe, and what trouble was in store for those who
consulted it. Merlin's mirror, also called Venus's looking-glass, had
some of these properties, but was made in Wales, and was given by
Merlin to King Ryence. It revealed what was being done by friend or foe
at a distance, and it also enabled the fair Britomart to read the
features, and also the name, of her future husband.

The consultation of a pool, on certain special occasions, for the
lineaments of 'the coming man,' has been a common enough practice with
love-sick damsels in much more recent times.

The wonderful looking-glass of Lao, described by Lien Chi Altangi in
Goldsmith's Citizen of the World, reflected the mind as well as the
body, and the Emperor Chusi used to make his ladies dress both their
heads and their hearts before it every morning. Great, however,