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 us; in the most unexpected way justice finds out the

C and punishment are meted out in ent and to the guilty.

ca state cannot be found in the real magination of mankind,—the divine gift le of man at his birth,—has created this d of unity, beauty, and justice, and has aner all the ideal hopes and aspirations so what have been the ideals which have ...rom the beginning and which animate him xoblest pursuits? Are they not the desire

e of the pictures of the fairy-tales? to create better, happier, and more glorious; where ccacca between man and man have disappeared; and troubles, fleeting shadows like the clouds, ed by a warm and radiant sun; where justice ad of wrong and oppression, and where virtue . We may call such a picture a vision or an

4 we look more to the difficulties which prevent ...eation. We are too scientific; we are calculating asia and men of exact science, we have allowed

Amation to shrivel up and our poetry to disappear. ... chem departs the best that is in man, the possibility

husiasm, the glow of inspiration, the joy of life, dhe glory of the world. And yet all the while we deceiving ourselves into a semblance of satisfaction putend to have got nearer the solution of the riddle ... those were who told the first tale.

V these not the same ideals which have inspired men utus in all ages and at all times? Has not man tried obtain the mastery of nature, and to fathom the stations properties of the elements? to utilise the very The forces which nature in a better and a more loving od offered voluntarily to the hero of the tale? What dhe aim and object of all science, if not to provide for the same means for his happiness,-health, long life, oyment and knowledge-as "once upon a time"? Nay,

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 same sensation which stirred the alchemist of old when

he felt himself on the track of the elixir of life. Our imagination is set on fire. The days when the "world was young" dawn again upon us. Everything in us and around us is suffused by this glow and we see mysterious powers working for good. They who told the tale for the first time cast the picture back into days that had gone by long ago; we are throwing the rays of light before us into the days that are to come. For these tales express in a pithy and poetical form the ideals of mankind. The secret of the fairy-tales is that they are thoroughly human, no difference of faith or race, or station in life is recognised. They draw man to man, thereby weaving a spell over our mind. They find a ready echo in our heart; they appeal to every man, woman and child who is not yet affected by the conventionalities of life, who is still responsive to the perfume of the flower, to the warbling song of the bird, to the music of the murmuring stream, to the poetry of forest and glen, to the glory of the skies, and to the beauty of the world. They are a vivid reflex of those times when every day brought forth another wonder, and the fragrance of the poetry of life is wafted into our soul, refreshing, vivifying, and quickening. Our Society has drunk of that fountain of youth, and it is our privilege to have kept the access to the "eau de jouvency" free to all comers. The Fairy Godmother still showers her gifts upon us. It is for us to appreciate the gifts and to recognise the glint of the gold in the clay out of which we fashion the bricks for the future Palace of Folklore. May you be able to detect a minute fraction of it in the brick which I have endeavoured to add to the grand fabric, and forgive me if I now break the spell and bring you back, let me hope refreshed, to the world of stern realities. It was "only a Fairy Tale."

M. GASTER.

LOCAL TRADITIONS OF THE QUANTOCKS.

BY THE REV. C. W. WHISTLER, M. R.C.S., L.S.A.,

VICAR OF STOCKLAND, BRIDGWATER.

(Read at Meeting, 20th November, 1907.)

THE Quantock district of West Somerset, some of whose traditions are here to be recorded, lies between the Severn Sea and the wide fenlands of the Tone and Parrett, which, roughly speaking, run from north to south, and then from east to west, to form what was once an almost impassable frontier against an invader from south or east. The more open western side of this quadrilateral is dominated by the Quantocks themselves, rising to an extreme height of over 1200 feet about midway of their length, and studded with ancient camps at every point where a crossing could be attempted. In early days there have been practically only two roads into the district from the eastward-one across the Parrett and its marshes by ferry at what is now Bridgwater, where the way was kept in Roman times by earthworks on either side; the other by a ford, passable only at low water, at Combwich, some six miles to the seaward. Except to marshmen, there could have been no way into the district from the south, where Athelney lies hidden in the fens; and the hill tracks to the west across the Quantocks were camp-guarded. There were two of these hill tracks. One still keeps the significant