The custom of giving wedding presents as it now exists is a social tax which, though paid by every one, is only paid grudgingly and on compulsion. It represents neither affection nor interest, and is not productive of the smallest profit to any save the tradesman whose wares are sold for the purpose. Its counterpart can only be found in the custom which existed a short time ago of giving leaving-books at Eton. The fashion was exactly analogous little boys gave them to big boys, to whom they always had been, and to whom they continued in after life, complete strangers, subscribing themselves their "sincere friends on their leaving Eton." The head-master submitted to the custom at a smaller cost; wise in his generation, and being an elegant classic, he had published or privately printed a quarto edition of some Latin author which, it is needless to say, nobody ever wanted, and no one ever bought. This peculiarly useless volume was exchanged for the sum of ten pounds deposited in some corner of the room by the boy who was bidding good-bye, whence it was generally supposed that the head-master ultimately took it.

This pleasant mode of

escaping the tax was unfortunately not open to those who paid for the leaving-books presented by their sons to their sincere friends, and who not unnaturally considered that the annual expenditure of fifteen or twenty pounds was hardly compensated by the possession of some scores of soiled copies bound in yellow calf. What these books are to the library, wedding presents are to the ordinary furniture of a house. What is to be done with the windmill? Should the first opportunity be seized for getting rid of it, there is the risk that its donor will tenderly inquire after it. It cannot be given away after the lapse of six months, for its colour is gone, and it looks as if it might have been present at Hilpah's wedding to Shalum. The poor thing eventually finds a shelter and a home in some spare bedroom of a country-house, where damp and dust hasten its decay. Sometimes it is destined to a harder fate. One swallow does not make a summer, and the gift of a wedding present does not insure the celebration of a marriage; the engagement may very possibly be broken off, and one of the consequences is the return of the windmill to its unhappy and original

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possessor, whose feelings on its reappearance we forbear from commenting on. If the State would include wedding presents among the assessed taxes, and fix a definite sum to be paid at the beginning of each year, great relief would be experienced; the Government would of course realise a profit, and a large sum would still remain to be distributed as marriage portions. The present inequality would be remedied; for, as it is, those who never marry at all (and their number is daily increasing) receive no return for their original outlay; but on the institution of the tax this need no longer be the case. Single women, on attaining the age of forty-five, might, on condition of subscribing a declaration setting forth the extreme improbability of their marrying, and their aversion to that condition, receive the sum to which they would have been entitled on marriage. Widows, on the other hand, would get nothing under any circumstances, being exhorted to remain contented with the ormolu of the first marriage. During the interval before the adoption of this plan we have but one remedy to propose. Surely the old shoes which are now so lavishly

thrown away at the departure of the bride and bridegroom are capable of conversion into some valuable substance; which cannot be predicated of wedding presents. Let, therefore, the next "groomsman" set a bright example, and deserve well of society and the oppressed; as the carriage starts let a shower of aneroids, barometers, bellows, candlesticks, vases, mosaics, and antiques gracefully fall and flutter around it. Thus we feel sure that a "peculiar interest would be excited," while the struggles of the crowd to possess objects which to their inexperienced eyes might seem capable of being exchanged. for a shilling would give additional animation to the scene. The prevalence of this custom might be expected to modify to some extent the present fashion, the chief compensation for which must be found in the advantages which result from a study of the pages of the 'Court Journal.'

THE END OF THE HOLIDAYS.

THE English lunatic may be expected in a very few days to return from the Continent, and the newspapers will doubtless chronicle his arrival in town on his way "to join the family circle " at the asylum in the country. If, however, the country loses quiet in one direction, it gains it in another. The local objects of interest will no longer be a prey to the tourists, who, fortunately for the preservation of archæological monuments, are obliged during a considerable portion of the year to work for their living. Sad nonsense is talked about trusting them, which is only possible as long as they are kept in sight. One well-known house has lately been closed to the public in consequence of the visitors having indulged in the pleasing practice of writing