ion of
Sir Richard Musgrave of Edenhall, in Cumberland; and many other ancient
families still retain their amulets.

_"The Evil Eye"_

I was recently speaking to an Italian lady who informed me that belief
in "the evil eye" is still very prevalent in many parts of Italy. "I
myself believe in it," she said, "and whenever I pass a person whom I
think possesses it, I make a sign with my fingers"--and she held up two
of her fingers as she spoke. I certainly have observed that people with
a peculiar and undefinable "something" in their eyes are particularly
unlucky and invariably bring misfortune on those with whom they are in
any degree intimate. These people, I have no doubt, possess "the evil
eye," though it would not be discernible except to the extremely
psychic, and there is no doubt that the Irish and Italians are both far
more psychic than the English.

People are of opinion that the eye is not a particularly safe indicator
of true character, but I beg to differ. To me the eye tells everything,
and I have never yet looked directly into a person's eyes without being
able to satisfy myself as to their disposition. Cruelty, vanity, deceit,
temper, sensuality, and all the other vices display themselves at once;
and so with vulgarity--the glitter of the vulgar, of the ignorant,
petty, mean, sordid mind, the mind that estimates all things and all
people by money and clothes, cannot be hidden; "vulgarity" will out, and
in no way more effectually than through the eyes. No matter how "smart"
the _parvenu_ dresses, no matter how perfect his "style," the glitter of
the eye tells me what manner of man he is, and when I see that strange
anomaly, "nature's gentleman," in the service of such a man, I do not
say to myself "Jack is as good"--I say, "Jack is better than his
master."

But to me "the evil eye," no less than the vulgar eye, manifests
itself. I was at an "at home" one afternoon several seasons ago, when an
old friend of mine suddenly whispered:

"You see that lady in black, over there? I must tell you about her. She
has just lost her husband, and he committed suicide under rather
extraordinary circumstances in Sicily. He was not only very unlucky
himself, but he invariably brought misfortune on those to whom he took a
liking--even his dogs. His mother died from the effects of a railway
accident; his favourite brother was drowned; the girl to whom he was
first engaged went into rapid consumption; and no sooner had