Although the belief in witchcraft has nearly passed away, the civilized world is yet full of necromancers and fortune tellers. The mystic science of "palmistry" is still practised by many a haggard and muttering vagrant.

The most celebrated fortune teller, perhaps, that ever lived, resided in Lynn, Mass. The character of "Moll Pitcher" is familiarly known in all parts of the commercial world. She died in 1813. Her place of abode was beneath the projecting and elevated summit of High Rock, in Lynn, and commanded a view of the wild and indented coast of Marblehead, of the extended and resounding beaches of Lynn and Chelsea, of Nahant Rocks, of the vessels and islands, of Boston's beautiful bay, and of its remote southern shore. She derived her mysterious gifts by inheritance, her grandfather having practised them before, in Marblehead. Sailors, merchants, and adventurers of every kind visited her residence, and placed great confidence in her predictions. People came from great distances to learn the fate of missing friends or recover the possession of lost goods. The young, of both sexes, impatient at the tardy pace of time, and burning with curiosity to discern their future lot, especially as it regarded matters of wedlock, availed themselves of every opportunity to visit her lowly dwelling, and hear from her prophetic lips the revelations of these most tender incidents and important events of their coming lives. She read the future, and traced what, to mere mortal eyes, were the mysteries of the present or the past, in the arrangement and aspect of the grounds or settlings of a cup of tea or coffee. Her name has every where become the generic title of fortune tellers, and occupies a conspicuous place in the legends and ballads of popular superstition.

A man was suddenly missed by his friends from a certain town in this commonwealth. The church immediately sent a member to consult the far-famed fortune-telling Molly Pitcher. After making the necessary inquiries, she intimated that the absent person had been murdered by a family of negroes, and his body sunk in the deep waters behind their dwelling. Upon this evidence, the accused were forthwith imprisoned, and the pond raked in vain, from shore to shore. A few days previous to the trial, the missing man returned to his friends, safe and sound; thus proving that the fortune teller, instead of having received from Satan certain information of distant and unknown events, actually played off a piece of the grossest deception upon her credulous visitors.

We are told by travellers that there is scarcely a village in Syria in which there is not some one who has the credit of being able to cast out evil spirits. About eight miles from the ancient Sidon, Lady Hester Stanhope, the granddaughter of the immortal Chatham, and niece of the equally immortal Pitt, recently lived in a style of Eastern splendor and magnificence. She spent her time in gazing at the extended canopy of heaven, as it shed its sparkling light upon the ancient hills and sacred groves of Palestine—her soul absorbed in the fathomless mysteries of her loved astrology, and holding fancied communion with supernatural powers and spirits of the departed.

There recently died in Hopkinton, Mass., an individual by the name of Sheffield, who had long followed the art of fortune telling by astrology. He professed to unfold almost every secret, or mystery, even to foretelling the precise day and hour any person would die. In case of lost or stolen goods, it was only necessary to enclose a small fee in a letter, containing also a statement of your name, age, and place of residence, and forward the same by mail to his address. In two or three weeks, the information you sought, as to the person who stole the property, &c., would be forwarded to you, leaving you to judge of the case for yourself. He did quite a business in his line, and made something of a fortune out of a long-exploded science.

There are many who trust to the declarations of such persons, and are often made unhappy thereby. In fact, it is doubtful if a more unhappy class can be found than those who are in the habit of consulting fortune tellers of any character. It is discontent, chiefly, that leads them to pry into futurity. And after having had their fortunes told, as it is termed, they are no better satisfied than before; for the best of fortune tellers are famous for their errors and mistakes, although it would be strange if they did not blunder upon some facts in the whole routine of their business. But we pity those who rely upon their prognostications. If told they will die at such or such a time, or if they are to meet with some dreadful accident, misfortune, or disappointment, their imaginations will lead them to anticipate and dread the event, which will be the surest way to produce its fulfilment. If a husband or wife is told that he or she will marry again, it will lead them to be dissatisfied with the partner with whom they are at present associated. And look at this subject as we will, we shall find it productive of a vast amount of evil, and therefore deserving of our entire disapprobation.