ittle time he may have bestowed in studying the anatomy
of sentiments and the affairs of human life. Thus the hand has a
thousand ways of becoming dry, moist, hot, cold, soft, rough,
unctuous. The hand palpitates, becomes supple, grows hard and again is
softened. In fine it presents a phenomenon which is inexplicable so
that one is tempted to call it the incarnation of thought. It causes
the despair of the sculptor and the painter when they wish to express
the changing labyrinth of its mysterious lineaments. To stretch out
your hand to a man is to save him, it serves as a ratification of the
sentiments we express. The sorcerers of every age have tried to read
our future destines in those lines which have nothing fanciful in
them, but absolutely correspond with the principles of each one's life
and character. When she charges a man with want of tact, which is
merely touch, a woman condemns him without hope. We use the
expressions, the "Hand of Justice," the "Hand of God;" and a _coup de
main_ means a bold undertaking.

To understand and recognize the hidden feelings by the atmospheric
variations of the hand, which a woman almost always yields without
distrust, is a study less unfruitful and surer than that of
physiognomy.

In this way you will be able, if you acquire this science, to wield
vast power, and to find a clue which will guide you through the
labyrinth of the most impenetrable heart. This will render your living
together free from very many mistakes, and, at the same time, rich in
the acquisition of many a treasure.

Buffon and certain physiologists affirm that our members are more
completely exhausted by desire than by the most keen enjoyments. And
really, does not desire constitute of itself a sort of intuitive
possession? Does it not stand in the same relation to visible action,
as those incidents in our mental life, in which we take part in a
dream, stand to the incidents of our actual life? This energetic
apprehension of things, does it not call into being an internal
emotion more powerful than that of the external action? If our
gestures are only the accomplishment of things already enacted by our
thought, you may easily calculate how desire frequently entertained
must necessarily consume the vital fluids. But the passions which are
no more than the aggregation of desires, do they not furrow with the
wrinkle of their lightning the faces of the ambitious, of gamblers,
for instance, and do they not wear