mind the end for which we are assembled; and that end is, simply, the enjoyment of relaxation; a far more difficult thing to get than rest; for, to get that best medicine for body and mind, true relaxation, you must be both amused and consoled; you must get your enjoyment without fatigue and without unwholesome excitement; you must get gratification with the largest amount of ease and the least possible amount of labour. Therefore the little tea' is to be an elaboration of the daily home refreshment, which appeals to everybody's love of smooth ways, pleasant faces, seasons of rest, and the sunny thoughtlessness of leisure hours.

It follows, then, that to bring a well-considered party together for a good little tea is a thing by no means to be done without considerable care and thought. It may require no more power than we all of us possess, but then we really must rub up our endowments and use them for the good of our neighbours. I therefore beg leave to protest against certain things.

I protest against being received at the door by a servant who takes my wrappings, if such have been necessary; possesses himself of sticks, parasols, and such minor encumbrances, as if we were all going into a picture exhibition, and were not to be trusted with weapons of offence or mischief; hands me over to one or two trimlydressed domestics of the female gender, who offer me rations of food with a gentle hint that I may sit in their presence if I please, or if, after my walk, I feel too tired to talk standing to victims as ill off as myself: this sort of thing has no flavour of home in it; it is all business; cruel, hardly-ordered, unrelenting business. All this may herald in a very well-ordered and agreeable party, but we are not going to be blessed by 'little tea.' I submit, sorrowing in my heart; for this is not, I say it again, 'little tea.' I want Belinda,

'As o'er the fragrant steam she bends her head,'

and I find-well, I enter the room,

and try to be grateful, but it is only Kettledrum,' after all.

Now, as to the giving of little teas, they are easiest given in the country, but they are most wanted in towns. If you combine both, and tempt out friends from a neighbouring town to your little tea in the country you do a great thing; and being thus favoured by circumstances and situation, your work is well begun, and to carry it out ought to be easy.

Your little tea should be such a triumph of seeming simplicity that every guest, at the highest point of gratification, should feel that it is all so easy they could do it themselves. This will be quite untrue; but a self-deception so agreeable and so flattering will prove that you have accomplished a perfect success. My advice upon it is-Keep your secret, and do it again! And I think it will be found that such successes are only made under certain conditions, about which any amount of variety may circulate, according to seasons, places, and people, but which themselves remain, always, fixed.

These following are some of

them.

The rooms are airy, bright, not so full of furniture as to impede motion; for the ease of moving about must be in every one's power; and provided with a sufficiency of comfortable seats, and little moveable tables. People will group then, without trouble, and use one table between three or four for tea, books, talk, or any other entertainment. Little teas are thoroughly social gatherings.

Jean Paul exclaimed, with an exquisite pathos, How is each of us so lonely in the wide bosom of the all! Each encased as in his transparent ice palace, our brother is visible, but for ever unattainable.'

Now this description has a cry of despair in it; but there is also in it a truth that every reader must recognize. We find it everywhere: in the house, the city, the suburbs -'close by those meads for ever crowned with flowers'-in our walks, and by our own firesides, and-I must confess it-in the

world of ill-ordered little teas. But it is because they are ill-ordered. And if ever there was an assemblage to which Jean Paul's words are not applicable it is that which celebrates a perfect 'little tea.'

It is so desirable to have more rooms than one-if your party is large that the hall should be pressed into the service, and, if necessary, the staircase closed up by high-growing flowers and little trees in pots. But never let any carpenters' work appear. All should wear the look of being no more than the family hands could accomplish. Any evidence of laborious preparation is contrary to the spirit of a little tea, and quite out of harmony with the idea; for you must remember that you are not going to exhibit yourselves either as people of taste, or hospitality, or cleverness, or worst of all-of affluence. You may be all; in fact, I hope you are; but these facts must have no individuality given to them; they may be the assisting spirits, but there must be no consciousness of their existence: the one thing to be felt is, that you give perfect little teas with such a smooth fitting on of all surrounding circumstances that there is not a crevice for curiosity to pass through or to attract a questioning eye. I need not add, then, that though you may show a really kind courage in not shrinking from a little trouble, you will never be ambitious; simplicity is a characteristic of little tea.

A great point for consideration, on your way to perfection, is dress. The neatest and most elegant morning costume is the proper thing. You, who give the little tea, should be dressed, if in summer, in cool materials, as inexpensive as you please, but harmoniously arranged and perfectly well made. You are to stand the test of prolonged observation and daylight; and, moreover, you have invited criticism. Being in your own home, there must not be about you the faintest suspicion of being dressed in your best; and yet it must be plain to every guest that you have made yourself ready to receive them, and

put off, in compliment to them, your everyday apparel. The neathanded daughters of a house, from the exquisitely dressed hair to the scrupulously fitted little foot, should be models of home perfection; for the colouring of women over these little teas forms a great and genuine attraction. It is that which specially distinguishes them; and we, the guests, are injured if we feel that those indescribable but inestimable hues are either wanting or dimmed.

Then your guests must be of many ages, and educated enough to have patience with, if not to enjoy, each other's pursuits. It is quite allowable to make little occasions for the display of different people's attainments; this has to be carefully done without speech-making, but with a gentle decision which gets over objections and debate; it is even right to arrange that every one who is going to do anything for the general entertainment shall do it under the best possible circumstances, so as to attract to him- or her-self immediate and freely-given praise.

Music is the most general of all the entertainments provided for little teas. But lamentably poor is this fare too often. Still I look on it as a necessity. Quietness may be necessary for rest; but for relaxation of body and mind there must be something going on. Perpetual talking is a perpetual call on your attention; but singing and playing give you a choice. You may, or you may not, listen; as long as the noise goes on you are free; and if this noise, as I venture to call it, is not absolutely painful, you are probably to some extent entertained. Any how, while it is going on you are freed from all responsibility; simply, nothing is, for the time, expected of you; and this alone is ease to many a too sensitive soul.

I have taken music, you see, on the very lowest ground; alas, tha certain excruciating experiences and jarring recollections should have obliged me to do so! But why are not the singers of a family trained to sing expressly for the occasions of little teas? Why may not neigh

Some of the goods are subject to an ad valorem duty, according to a certain fixed per-centage of the value. In such cases the officers have to be keen, observant men. A trader is very much tempted to place a lower value than the real one on such commodities, in order that a lower sum may be payable in the form of duty, or to place them in a group more lightly taxed. But the officer is usually equal to the occasion. If he is certain that the articles have been purposely undervalued, with the fraudulent intent here intimated, he at once buys them in the Queen's name; the importer must sell them, and at the price named by himself; the money is paid to him, minus the duty and expenses. The system is certainly cunningly devised; for if the trader tries to evade the duty altogether, the goods are absolutely forfeited; whereas if he endeavours merely to lessen the amount of duty by naming an undervalue, he is caught in his own trap by being compelled to sell at that value. The experience acquired by the officers has taught them that one of the most fertile sources of deception is the combination of duty-payable with duty-free articles in the same ship.

The former are sometimes packed among the latter in the most ingenious way-barrels, kegs, boxes, hampers, cases, bags, parcels, trusses, canisters, bottles, bundles, wrappers, apparently filled with some kind or kinds of commodity admitted duty free, will often have duty-payable articles thrust out of sight in the very midst of them. The examiners are aware of this possibility, and if their suspicions are aroused, the search is made very close indeed. Every package thus fraudulently built up is declared forfeited; and if the proceedings are very glaring, a fine as well as a forfeit is imposed.

But it may be that the taxable commodities are entered in such a way that an immediate payment of the duty is not demanded. The importer, consignee, or wholesale merchant may wish to keep the goods in store for a while, perhaps in expectation of being able to sell at a better price next week or next

month than just at present. The Crown, if the accounts are honestly made up in all other respects, generally permits this; but the owner must not leave the goods in the ship, nor must he take them to his own premises, nor will the Crown take care of them-he must place them in a bonded warehouse. These bonded warehouses, which exist at nearly all the ports, belong to private owners, who are paid a rent for the time during which the commodities are stored; but they are specially licensed by the Crown, they are jealously watched by Custom-House officers, and not a package of anything must enter or leave the gates until these Argus-eyed officials know the reason why.' In such places the importer deposits his commodities' in bond,' as it is called, with most rigorous attention to bills of entry, bills of sight, and other documents. He must not transfer any of the goods from one package to another, nor must he inspect them or sort them, without the sanction and presence of officers. If any disallowed proceeding be inadvertently adopted, the owner may possibly be permitted to amend his notice, and make all right and square; but if intentional collusion or deception be discovered, down comes the law upon him: the forfeiture of his goods teaches him that there is something in the old proverb about honesty being the best policy. The Queen takes the tobacco, rum, or what not, from the bonded warehouse, and prepares to sell it by auction when and where she will.

There is another variety of circumstances under which owners part with their property in a way very uncomfortable to themselves. Many of our customs duties are imposed on foreign commodities only when for home consumption, that is, to be bought and retailed and used in the United Kingdom; if they are to be re-exported the duty is not charged. Now in such case there is great need of vigilance on the part of the officers, to see that goods so exempted are not surreptitiously sold for consumption at home. All kinds of artful dodges