limited in its effect to a few selected persons whose course has been determined long before, and no power on earth can change or turn it, not even the death of the hero, for he comes miraculously back to life. This conception, which rests on the belief that the best must inevitably come to the best, independent of the circumstances in which he has been born, is akin to the type of the Youngest Brother or Cinderella, for they were also born to use a phrase of the eastern tale-with the star on their forehead and with the golden crown on the brow. In the one case the history begins at the birth, or shortly before the birth, in the other after they have grown to manhood or womanhood. The experiences of the one are often indistinguishable from those of the other. Both undergo a certain amount of hardship and danger ere they reach the object of their ambition.

But this world is not filled only with heroes and kings; there are also abnormal beings lurking everywhere, and with them the hero has to fight, or by them he may be helped in his daring adventures. It is a remarkable feature that not a single normal animal appears in all the fairy-tales as the antagonist of the hero. The only animals which he has to fight are the mythical dragons, or misshapen creatures which by their deformity show that they are standing outside the range of the regular and natural; monsters in human or animal shape, the like of which are not usually met with, which are a source of danger and evil to persons or countries, and of which these are ridded by the hero. The weapon employed is superior knowledge. Ruse, cunning, or intelligence, decides the contest between the giant, or the terrible monster, and the small human being. Size is of no moment; Toin Thumb understands better how to overcome difficulties than his huge temporary masters, and the giants are always portrayed as great louts, limited in intelligence,

the hero is helped by men who can do prodigious things, having the power of giants with the size of men. The one can uproot whole forests, the other drink a river, the third is as fleet of feet as the quickest thought, another can blow hot and cold, and, again, another can see at enormous distances. But they do not betray their qualities outwardly, and are recognised only by the feats which they perform. Even in this case physical force does not stand on the same plane as keen intelligence. With all their strength they are stupid; a humanised and reduced form of the lordly giant.

We have now been roaming, I think, long enough in the realm of the fairy-tales. We have scaled the heavens on a beanstalk like Jack, or, perhaps, on sunbeams; we have followed the aerial flight of the swan-maidens ; we have descended into the nether world; we have ransacked the storehouse of the fairies' palaces. But what does it all mean? Is it a mere play of fancy coming from nowhere and going no whither? Is it the birth of a day, not destined to see the sun of the morrow, or is it as everlasting as the heroes of the tale? And if so, why so? What does it all portend, and whence the deep interest it has been able to rouse, and the enthusiasm it has been able to kindle everywhere and at all times? I have come back to my starting-point, but no longer with empty hands, a mere questioner at the closed door. The door has opened and we have had a glimpse of the treasures heaped up in the palaces of the fairies. And more than that: a whisper of the fairies has been overheard. I hope to have heard aright what they spoke. Should I have missed its true meaning then I trust that someone else will be more favoured and bring you a better message than has been vouchsafed to me.

What I heard was this. The fairy-tale was the first

the first attempt to understand the ways of the world, and to offer an explanation of all that seems so disconcerting and difficult to understand. We are surrounded by ills and troubles; we are placed in the midst of beings, some savage, some tame, some kind, some unkind; illness and death, poverty and misery, hardship and wrong seem to reign supreme. There is a throbbing, fighting, disporting animal life of which we know nothing, and some of the animals seem to possess qualities higher than man. There are some whose movements are furtive, mysterious, whose powers for evil are great. There is a world of flowers and trees, each one living in its own way, also endowed with mysterious properties. We are told, then, that all these are parts of one whole, are filled with one universal soul. There is no essential difference between one creature and the other, and the sight of the eye is deceptive. Everything is subject to the same law of eternal change; but this change does not affect the fundamental unity of the universe, nor is it limited in any way whatsoever. The differences between various species and kinds are obliterated in nature, and supreme equality lies at the root of the social conditions of mankind. What the one is to-day the other may be to-morrow. It is all so democratic, and withal so well defined. True, there are degrees in society, but there are no insurmountable barriers between the one and the other; the best, the bravest, the truest, the most upright wins in the long run. Things are not what they appear, the lowest contains in itself the possibilities of the highest. And the mark of the highest is physical prowess and moral rectitude. This world, then, with its infinite possibilities is not left a prey to the wicked. The fundamental principle which governs it is that of absolute justice. No wrong remains unpunished, no evil without redress, though not always in the manner expected by

wicked, and reward and punishment are meted out in the end to the innocent and to the guilty.

As such an ideal state cannot be found in the real world, the poetic imagination of mankind,—the divine gift placed in the cradle of man at his birth,-has created this imaginary world of unity, beauty, and justice, and has transplanted thither all the ideal hopes and aspirations of man. For what have been the ideals which have inspired man from the beginning and which animate him still in his noblest pursuits? Are they not the desire to realise some of the pictures of the fairy-tales? to create a world that is better, happier, and more glorious; where the differences between man and man have disappeared; where illness and troubles, fleeting shadows like the clouds, are dissipated by a warm and radiant sun; where justice reigns instead of wrong and oppression, and where virtue is rewarded. We may call such a picture a vision or an Utopia, for we look more to the difficulties which prevent its realisation. We are too scientific; we are calculating machines and men of exact science, we have allowed our imagination to shrivel up and our poetry to disappear. With them departs the best that is in man, the possibility of enthusiasm, the glow of inspiration, the joy of life, and the glory of the world. And yet all the while we are deceiving ourselves into a semblance of satisfaction and pretend to have got nearer the solution of the riddle than those were who told the first tale.

Are these not the same ideals which have inspired men of genius in all ages and at all times? Has not man tried to obtain the mastery of nature, and to fathom the mysterious properties of the elements? to utilise the very same forces which nature in a better and a more loving mood offered voluntarily to the hero of the tale? What is the aim and object of all science, if not to provide for man the same means for his happiness,-health, long life,

the objects are almost identical. We desire to shorten space, as they did by the flying horse and the magic carpet. We wish to spy out the mystery of heaven and see down the depth of the sea as they did when the man of long sight searched for the hidden beauty among the places above the skies or at the bottom of the sea. It is immaterial whether Dick Whittington is a tale or a legend, the fact remains that he had a Puss-in-boots, and that we also are turning to the dumb animal world for help in our adventures. No greater truth has yet been formulated than that there exists a herb of life. What else was the dream of the alchemist but to find the elixir of life, the stone of the philosopher? so as to change the elements, to turn base metals into gold, just as the fairy does by the touch of her wand, to prolong life just as the "water of life" does in the tale. And is not the final aim of modern science to discover and place, as they say, on a scientific basis, the Unity of Nature? Unity presupposes the possibility of all these marvellous changes which are dreamt of in the tale and make its charm so great. Magic is only a secondary stage of this conception, for a man can only perform those changes when he believes that it can be done, that the one can easily be permutated into another and that life is essentially one and the same in the whole of Nature. I shall be confronted by the argument that not all the tales have either a moral background or a moral ending. This is quite true; but such tales are the poor remnants of a much more complete tale in which these features made its fortune. Herein lies the value and importance of our Society. We are taught to take a comprehensive view, to gather all the variants and forms in which a tale has been preserved, and to reconstruct it so that we recover the old form with all its charm and all its poetry. Whilst doing so we shall feel the