Certainly, as presented by the Principal, the picture was not a nice one. But one does not relinquish all one’s most sentimental customs without a struggle, and a warm discussion ensued between us, from which, however, I emerged the loser, as I might have expected. When I came to think of it, it was not pleasant to reflect that every drink of water I had ever had had possibly meandered its way through the dissolving tissues of some recently departed victim of cholera or fever. Even the idea of past near relationship to the too generously diffusive corpse was not consolatory, for it had a sort of cannibalistic aspect about it which did not argue true affection for the departed. I remembered that in my country one of the chief objections to cremation, apart from the purely sentimental reasons promulgated, was that in cases of foul play the process annihilated all chances of ever discovering the real cause of death, as no analysis of cremated remains can be made. On reflection, it struck me that it was less important that one malefactor should be brought to book, than that whole communities should be exposed to the risk of poison. I reflected also that the system of “Life Insurance” was mainly responsible for the crimes of our modern poisoners. Given the abolition of a system whereby our relatives and guardians are interested in our speedy demise, and the substitution of the plan which prevailed in New Amazonia, whereby every child of the State had its old age provided for, and poisoning, by becoming so evidently useless, would at the same time become our rarest crime. So I thought, while admitting to Principal Grey that burial was a dangerous and unsatisfactory mode of disposing of the dead. By-and-bye we began to talk of other things, and in the course of conversation it occurred to me to make some enquiries relating to Mr. Augustus Fitz-Musicus and his future plans. “I am afraid,” was the rejoinder, “that Mr. Fitz-Musicus can never be converted into a sober New Amazonian. He has revolted against wearing our National costume, and says that rather than sacrifice his British individuality, and look like everybody else, he will brave the probability of becoming a laughing-stock, and that he will wear his old clothes to rags rather than have his individuality swallowed up in a general resemblance to every nincompoop in the country. I am afraid it would necessitate him to live as long again as he has done, to bring him into the exact likeness of a native of New Amazonia. But his vanity is inextinguishable, and nothing could bring him to the belief that his appearance does not eclipse that of our handsomest men. When last I heard of him, he was seeking some stuff with a large pattern. He says that if he can find a nice big check, he may perhaps consent to have a suit made in native style, but he is not at all sure yet.” “But how does he intend earning his living?”