meaning that they have counted all their fingers, and are beginning their toes. He proceeds to compare the Persian words, pentcha , hand, and pendj , five, as being connected with one another, and gives various other curious instances of finger-numeration. We may carry the theory further. The Zulu language reckons from one up to five, and then goes on with tatisitupe (“take the thumb”), meaning six ; tatukomba (“take the pointer,” or forefinger), meaning seven , and so on. The Vei language counts from one up to nineteen, and for twenty says mo bande —“a person is finished”—that is, both fingers and toes. I venture to add another suggestion. Eichhoff gives a Sanskrit word for finger, “daiçini” (taken apparently from pra-deçinî , forefinger), and which corresponds curiously with “daçan,” ten; and we have the same resemblance running through many of the Indo-European languages, as δεκα and δακτυλος, decem and digitus ; German, Zehn and Zehe , and so on.
Here the Mexican numerals will afford us a new illustration. Of the meaning of the first four of them— çe, ome, yei, nahui —I can give no idea, any more than I can of the meaning of the words one, two, three, four, which correspond to them; but the Mexican for five is macuilli , “hand-depicting.” Then we go on in the dark as far as ten , which is matlactli , “hand-half,” as