gression, would seem to prove a common descent, and opens a wide field of speculation for the psychologist, not the least interesting part of which would be the question whether the promise of dress was a part of the temptation of our great ancestress.

There are many points of resemblance between grown-up persons of average stature and the little people. In respect of the logical faculty, it is questionable whether they have not sometimes the advantage over us. The following accurate piece of reasoning might well be envied by any middleaged logician. A young lady, previous to her first introduction to public religious worship, was informed that it is exceedingly unbecoming to speak in church. She accordingly behaved with the greatest propriety. Upon being asked her opinion of the service, she was good enough to say that she liked it "welly much, but a naughty wude man would talk all the time,"-alluding, of course, to the minister. Almost as much dissimilarity exists among the "Children," as they are sometimes termed, as is observable in their larger compatriots. Some will astonish you by an exhibition of weird wisdom, while others are of a charming artlessness. An admirable example of the latter character was so kind as to introduce herself to me at Eastbourne a few weeks ago. She commenced the acquaintance by taking from a suitably-sized pail that she carried in her hand a shell, and observing, "Isn' that a pretty shell?” It was impossible not to agree with her, though its beauty did not strike me. She then produced a mussel, and requested me to open it. I represented that it wouldn't like it, perhaps. She said. "Never mind, you open it;" and I am sorry to say I did. She next discovered a small, white

stone; "It's like a goody, isn't it?" said this young observer, and tried it gravely with her tongue. Oh! if I had only been a necromancer, it should have been the most succulent dainty that ever went into a rosebud of a mouth. "Have you any little girls?" was her next query. I humbly answered, "No." Any little boys?" My culpable deficiency was never so plain to me before. "Where is your son?" then asked the tiny inquisitor, in such a direct and positive tone that I felt I must have one somewhere, and tried to think where he could be. It was evidently useless to deny the possession of a relation of the sort, which my young friend plainly considered indispensable. So I had nothing for it but to assure her that my son was beyond the seas, whence, let me observe en passant, I devoutly hope that he will never return. "That's my nurse; Mamma bought her for me," continued my Liliputian ; "and that's my sister in a blue blouse." The exceedingly diminutive person in question was actively engaged in shovelling back the sea. "And that's my brother; isn't he little?" At this point of our intercourse two ladies approached, bearing three gallant vessels for my friend and her family. The boy tottered up the beach for his ship, and taking possession of his sister's seat next to me, stared up in my face with grave and respectful wonder. The girls-fickle lassies!— ran off to try their new nautical property. Not so the boy. Perhaps he did not care for female society. Boys rarely do, though they make up for it later; or perhaps he thought it would be rude to leave me there. He pointed out his "sip" to me, and mentioned it was "boke." I endeavoured to reassure him as to the seaworthiness of the craft, and we got on capitally, though I do

his

not remember that he amplified the conversation. At length, feeling that I was trespassing upon courtesy, I asked him whether he would try the capabilities of his vessel. He assented. I left that firm of shipowners enjoying themselves greatly; their barques were all upside down, but floating comfortably in that anti-Plimsoll condition. Sometimes the evidence of an existence prior to our knowledge of this particular planet is glaringly apparent in the ways and words of the Liliputians. Such an observation as "Ah! that's so like you," which followed a humble attempt of mine to amuse her, argued an experience on the part of the small speaker utterly incommensurate with the period of her sojourn here; while the oracular utterance à propos of a very recent arrival, "Ah! you'll have a deal of trouble with that boy, what with his teething and trousering, Mrs. Smith,” could only have been possible to the diminutive Sybil on the hypothesis of observation extending over a field beyond our ken.

There can be no doubt that the advance of the Liliputians in civilisation has been well-nigh as marked as our own progress. Their literature shows, perhaps, an even greater improvement, for though we should shrink from appearing to undervalue such classical performances as "Old Mother Hubbard," "Dame Trot," and others of the like type, it is impossible to overlook the fact that the periòdical literature of infancy is purely of modern introduction. In respect of their advancement in art, it is only necessary to compare the rude designs supplied to their predecessors, with the exquisite pictures furnished for the delight of children now-a-days by Sir John Gilbert, Mr. Birkett Foster, and a score of other artists.

Every man worthy of the name loves the deni

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zens of Liliput, rejoices in their society, and does what he can to promote their happiness; and justly so, for only fancy what a world this would be without children. Without the Sun, it would be less dreary and dismal.

AN AUTO DA FE.

BURNT-OFFERING, undoubtedly the earliest recorded form of religious observance, is, moreover, that which seems to have been the most widely adopted, every nation at one time or another of its history having practised it. There was of course great variety in the nature of the articles incinerated, and the institution periodically underwent important modifications, the substitution of one's enemies for one's flocks and herds as a fiery sacrifice being, in point of convenience, perhaps the most marked of the changes in the rite which resulted from advancing civilisation. The economical superiority of this process naturally insured its acceptance by all prudent and pious communities, and though she has never dared to emulate the auto da fe of Spain, our own favoured land can point to the "bon" or "good" fires of Smithfield with pardonable pride. The scarcity and consequent dearness of wood, together with the circumstance that coal was not available, were no doubt the causes of the grand old custom of burning heretics having fallen into disuse. In stating that mankind no longer commit their enemies to the flames, the agreeable practice of certain savage nations is not forgotten, but this article does not propose to deal with anything of a culinary nature. It