The desire to gather omens from the various surrounding objects of every-day life has naturally included articles of furniture; and hence we find signs and portents attached to certain of these which are implicitly credited by many, from the highest to the lowest, who, notwithstanding, would consider themselves deeply insulted if the idea of their being superstitious were only so much as hinted at by some sceptical friend. Among the most common of these odd fancies are those relating to the looking-glass. As a piece of furniture this is most necessary, and its very importance is, perhaps, the chief reason why superstition has invested it with those mysterious qualities which certainly do not belong in the same ratio to chairs and tables. A chair, however beautiful and costly in its manufacture, may nevertheless be cruelly broken with perfect impunity; whereas, if some wretched, dilapidated looking-glass is accidentally cracked, the inmates of the house are thoroughly discomposed, from a conviction that such an event is sure to be followed by misfortune of some kind or other. In Cornwall, the supposed penalty for such an offence is seven years of sorrow; and a Yorkshire proverb informs us that this unfortunate occurrence entails "seven years' trouble, but no want." It has also been said to foretell the speedy decease of the master of the house; and in Scotland it is regarded as an infallible sign that some member of the family will shortly die. It has been suggested that this popular superstition dates very many years back, and probably originated in the terror inspired by the destruction of the reflected human image--an interesting illustration of how the formation of certain ideas is often determined by mere analogy. A similar style of thinking also underlies the mediæval necromancer's practice of making a waxen image of his enemy, and shooting at it with arrows in order to bring about his death.