Guileless and Good
We all hold ourselves very dear; flaws in our natures, however serious and detrimental to character, seem trifles light as air. We appear to ourselves—especially when we are young—to be very good and guileless. We are assured that all follies will be conquered, repented of, left far behind us in the land of oblivion, long before old age catches us in the hip and thigh. And the palmist will often find that those who clamor most loudly for frank and impartial revelations are just those who are wounded by a single word that jars their self-esteem or questions the high price set upon their individual qualities.
For this reason he must go gently, speaking without flattery or undue censure, and upon such occasions he would do well to keep his mind from diving beneath the surface of the trivial pleasant prophecies expected of him. He should never wound the susceptibilities of some nervous, high-strung soul by prophesying ill-health, bereavement, or death.
The more serious side of the science can be dealt with only when the exponent and subject are secure from prying eyes and listening ears, and even then the palmist should be the very embodiment of tact, sympathy, and discretion.
Should the subject really desire the probings of some past secret misfortune, the palmist may voice his interpretation of the history written in his hand, but, in a manner of humane and tender kindness, making much of the lighter side, and endeavoring to encourage and help by faith in a happier future.
To blurt out some past tragedy or foretell one before others is a wanton cruelty of which the palmist should never be guilty. He should always endeavor to put himself in the place of the subject, and even when the latter is, as often happens to be the case, incredulous of his powers and eager to show his ignorance, the palmist should not allow himself to be stung to retort by revealing a jealously-guarded secret.
The physician, the clergyman, the lawyer are the recipients of pathetic and strange confidences; the palmist will also discover many, and must ever hold them as inviolably.
He must be a gentleman in the highest sense of the word—honorable, chivalrous, humane; and, whenever the opportunity occurs, strong to encourage the weak and console and comfort the men and women, both young and old, whose hands reveal their heart-break, weariness, and sense of failure.