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f on y do the best we can. 0 But no Hugh came'. THE THREAD OF LIFE SUNSHINE AND SHADE. CHAPTER XL.â€"Ar Ilist AT LAST. VVinilred fell back on the pilloWs Wearily. “I love him," she whispered once more. “ He hates me. l'llsie; but in spite of all, I lovo him, I luv. .m.” For years shc .ud locked up that secret in her own soul. She had told it to no one. least of all to her husband. Bjit, confined to the narrow spice of her poor small heart, and battling there with her contempt and scorn, it had slowly eaten her very life out. Her face was growing very pale now. After all this excitement, she needed rest. The inevitable reaction was beginning to set in. She fumbled with her fingers on the baiclothes nervously; her face twitched with a painful twitching. The symptonzs alarmed and frightened Elsie; she opened the door of the little salon and signalled to the English doctor to return to the bedroom. He came in, and cast a keen glance at the bed. Elsie looked up at him with inquiring eyes. The doctor nodded gravely and drew his long heard through his closed hand. “ A mere question of hours," he,whispered in her ear. “ It may be de- layed; it may come at any time. She’s overtaxsd her strength. Hysteria. followed by proportionate prostration. Her heart may fail from moment to m..ment.” " Where’s her husband ‘1" Elsie cried in fever of dismay. “ I’ve sent him 03' about his business for an hour's stroll,” the doctor answered with professional calmness. ” She's evidently in a highly hysterical condition. and the sight of him only increases her excitement. It‘s a sad case, but a painfully common one. A husband’s presence is often the very worst thing on earth for a patient so affected. I thought it would do her far more good to have you alone with herâ€"you're always so gentle and so soothing, Miss Challoner.” Elsie glanced back at him with swimming eyes. “ But suppose she were to die while ne‘s gone," she murmured low with profound emotion. .The doctor pursed up his lips philosophic- ally. “It can't be helped,” he answered with a faint shrug. “That's \j on what’ll ha pen, I'm very much afraid. We can This crisis has evidently been too severe for her.” As he spoke, \Vinifred turned up from the bed an appealing face, and beckoned Elsie to bend down closer to her. “ Elsie,” she whispered, in a 10 w, hoarse voice, “ send out for Hugh. I want him now.-â€"I should like to kiss him before I die. I think I’m going. I I won't last much longer." ] Elsie hurried out to Warren in the ante- I room. “ Go," she cried eagerly, through her blinding tearsâ€"“ go and find Hugh. Wini- fred wants him : she wants to kiss him be- fore she dies. Look for him through all the streets till you find him,s.nd send him home. She wants to forgive him.” Warren answered her never a single‘word, she flung herself passionately into his circl- but. nodding acquiescence, rushed down'by' himself to the Psplanade and the shore in search of his enemy. Poor baflled enemy, how his heart ached for him! At such a moment, who could help pitying him 2 “ Is he coming '1" Winifred asked from the bed feebly. " Not yet, darling,” Elsie answered in a hushed voice; "but Warren's gone out to try and find him. He'll be here soon. Lie still and wait for him." Winifred lay quite still for some minutes , more, breathing hard and loud on the bed where they had laid her. The moments ap- peared to spread themselves over hours. At last she beckoned Elsie near-r again, with a frail hand that seemed almost to have lost all power of motion. Elsie leant over her with her ear laid close to Winifred's lips. The poor girl's voice sounded very weak and all but in- audible now. “I can’t last till he comes, Elsie,” she murmured low. “ But tell him I forgave him. Tell him I asked him to forgive me in turn. Tell him I wanted to kiss him good-bye. But even that last wish was denied me. And Elsie ” â€"her fingers clutched her friend's convul- sivel â€"“tell him all along I’ve always love him. I loved him from the very do the of my soul. I never loved any one as loved that man. When I hated him most, I loved him dearly. It was my very love that made me so hate him He starved I vividly my heart; and now it's broken." Elsie stooped down and kissed her fore- head. Asmile played lambent over Wini~ frsd's face at the gentle kiss. The doc- tor lifted his open hand in warning. Elsie bent over her with gathered brows and strained her eyes for a sign of breath for a moment. with mute lips of the doctor. "Gone," the calmer observer answered with a grave inclination of his head toward Elsie. “ Ripid collapse. A singular case. She sufiered no pain at the last, poor lady.” Elsie flung herself wildly into an easy- chair and burst into tears more burning than ever. A touch on her shoulder. She looked up with a start. Could this be Hugh 2 Thank heaven, no! It was Warren who touched her shoulder lightly. Half an hour had pass. ed and he had now come back again. But, alas, too late. “ No need to stop here any longer," be said reverently. “ Hugh’s down- stairs, and they’re breaking the news to him. He doesn’t know yet you’re here at all. I didn’t speak to him. I thought some other person would move him more. I saw him on the quay, and I sent an Ita- lian-I met on the beach to tell him he was wanted. and his wife was dyingâ€" Come up to my room on the floor above. Hugh needn't know even now, per- ha s, that you're here at Sm llemo." on full to speak, Elsie followed him blindly from the chamber of death, and stumbled somehow up the broad flight of "in to Warren's apartments on the next story. As she reached the top of the open flight, she heard a voiceâ€"a familiar voice, that would once have thrilled her to the very . heart â€"on the landing below, by Winifred’s bedroom. Shame and fascination drew her different ways. Fascination won. She couldn’t resist the dangerous temptation to look over the edge of the banister for a sec- ond. Hugh had just mounted the stairs from the big entrance hall. and was talking by the door in measured tones with the Egg- lish doctor. “Very well," he said in his cold, stern voice, the voice he had always used to Winifredâ€"a little lowered by conventional respect, indeed, but scarcely so subdued as the doctor's own. “I’m prepared for the “ Gone 1" she asked at last} l\pathetic worst. If she's (‘ead say so. You needn't be afraid of shocking my feelings; I ex- pected it shortly." She could see his face distinctly from the spot where she stood, and she shrank back aghast at once from the sight with surprise and horror. It was Hugh to be sure, but oh, what a Hugh! How changed and al- tered from that light and bright young dil- ottante poet she had loved and worshipped in the 011 days at “'hitestranrl ! His very form and features, and limbs and figure, were no longer the same; all were unlike, and the difference was all to their disad- vantage. Tne man had not only grown sterner and harder; he was coarser and commoner and less striking than formerly. His very styh had suffered visible degeneration. No more of tliojaunty old pnetlcil air; turnips and foot-and- mouth disease, the arrears of rent and the struggle against reduction, the shifting sands and the weight of the riparian pro- prietors’ question, had all left their mark stamped deep in ugly lines upon his face and figure. He was handsome still, butin a less refined and delicate type of manly beauty. The longsmouldering war between himself and \Viuifred had changed his expression to a dogged ill-humour. His eyes had grown dull and sordid and selfish, his li s had assumed a sullen set, and a ragged heard with unkempt ends had disfigured that clear-cut and, dainty chin that was once so eloquent of oetry and culture. Alto- gether, it was but a pale and flabby version of the old, old Hughâ€"a replica from whose head the halo had faded. Elsie looked down on him from her height of vantage with a thrill of utter and hopeless disillusion- ment. Then she turned with a pang of remorse to Warren. Was it really possible? Was there once a time when she thought in her heart that selfcentred, hard-hearted, cold-featured creature more than a match for such a man as \Varren '3 “ She is dead,” the doctor answered with professional respect. “She died half an hour ago, quite happy. Her one regret seemed to be for your absence. She was anxiously expecting you to come back and see her." Hugh only answered: “I thought so. Poor child." But the very way he said itâ€" the half~unconcerned tone, the lack of any real depth of emotion, nay, even of the de- cent pretence of tears, shocked and appalled Elsie beyond measure. She rushed away into Warren’s room and gave vent once more to her torrent of emotion. The painter laid his hand gently on her beautiful hair, “ 0 Warren,” she cried, looking up at him half doubtful, “ it makes me ashamed ”â€"-â€" And she checked herself suddenly. “ Ashamed of what ‘2" Warren asked her low. In the fever of her overwrought feelings, ing arms, “ Ashamed to think," she an» swered with a sob of distress, “ that I once loved him 1" CHAPTER XLI.â€"Rsniv1va ! . Hugh sat that evening, that crowded even- ing alone in his dingy, stingy rooms with his dead Winifred. Alone with his weary, drea- ry though tsâ€"his thoughts, and a corpse, and a ghostly presence ! Two women had loved him dearly in their time, and he had killed them bothâ€"Elsie and Winifred. It was a hateful nightâ€"hateful and. ghastly ; for in the bedroom at the side the attendants of death, despatched by by the doctor, were al- ready busy at their gruesome work, perform- ing the last duties for poor martyred Wini- fred. He had offered her up on the altar of his selfish remorse and regret for poor martyred Elsie. The last victim had fallen on the grave of the first. She, too, was dead. And now his house was indeed left unto him do- solate. Somehow, as he sat there, with whirling brain and heated brow, on fire in soul, he thought of Elsie far more than of \Vinifred. The new bereavement, such as it was, seemed to quicken and accentuate the sense of the old one. \Vas it that VVinifred's wild belief in her recognition of Elsie that day in the street had roused once more the picture of his 10st love’s face and form so in his mind? Or was .it that the girl whom Winifred pointed out to him did really to some slight extent resemble Elsie 'f and so recall her more definitely before him? He hardly knew; but of one thing he was certainâ€"Elsie that night monopolised his consciousness. His three-year-old grief was still fresh and green. He th’ught much of Elsie, and little of Winifred. Late at night the wellfavoured landlady came up, courteous and Itplian, all respect- ful sympathy, in a black gown and a mourn- ing head dress, hastily donned, as becomes those who pay visits of condolence in what- ever capacity to the recently bereaved. As for Hugh himself, he wore still his rough travelling suit of gray homespun, and the dust of his journey lay thick upon him But he roused himself listlessly at the land'- lady’s approach. She was bland, but sym- there would Monsieur sleep ? the amiable proprietressinquired in lispiug French. Hugh started at the inquiry. He had never thought atall of that. Anywhere, he answered, in a careless voice ; it was all the same to him ; sous les wits, if necessary. The landlady bowed a respectful depreca- tion. She could offer him a small room, a most diminutivs room, unfit for Monsieur, in his present condition, but still a chambre de maitre, just above Madame. She regrett- ed she was unable to afford a better ; but the house was full, or, in a word, crowded. The world, you see, was beginning to arrive at San Remo for the season. Proprietors in a health resort naturally resent a death on the premises, especially at the very out- set of the winter; they regard it as a slight on the sanitary reputation of the place, and incline to be rude to the deceased and his family. Yet nothing could be mor e charming than the landlady‘s manner; she swallowed her natural internal chagrin at so untoward an event in her own house and at such an untimely crisis, with commend- able politeness. One would have said that a death rather advertised the condition of the house than otherwise. Hugh nodded his head in blind acquiescence. “ 0n vous voulez, Madame,” he answered wearily. “ Up stairs, if you wish. I 11 go nowâ€"I’m sorry to have caused you so much inconven- ience ; but we never know when these un- fortunate afiairs are likely to happen.” The landlady considered in her own mind that the gentleman's tone was of the most distinguished. Such sweet manners! So thoughtfulâ€"so considerateâ€"so kindly res- pectful for the house's injured feelings ! She was conscious that his courtesy called for some slight return. “ You have eiten nothing, Monsieur," she went on, compas sionately. “ In effect, our sorrow makes us forget these details of every-day life. You do not derange us at all; but you must let me send you up some little refreshment." Hugh nodded again. She sent him up some cake and red wine of the country by the Swiss waiter, and Hugh ate it mechanically; for he was not hungry. Excitement and fatigue had worn him out. His game was played. He followed the waiter up to the floor above, and was showuâ€"into the next room to \Varren's. He undressed in a stupid, half dead-alive way, and lay down on the bed with his candle still burning. But he didn‘t sleep. \Veariness and remorse kept him wide awake, worn out as he Was, tossing and turning through the long slow hours in silent agony. Strange to say, the sense of freedom was the strongest of all the feelings that crowdcll in upon him. Now that Wini- fr :d was dead, he could do as he chose with his own. He was no longer tied to her will and her criticisms. When he got back to Englandâ€"as he would get back, of course, the moment he had decently buried Winifredâ€"ho meant to put up a fitting gravestone at Orfordness, if he sold the wretched remainder of Whitestrand to do it. A granite cross should mark that sacred spot. Dead Elsie's grave should no longer be nameless. So much, at least, his remorse could effect for him. For Winifred was dead, and Whitestrand was his own. At the price of that miserable manor of blown sand he had sold his own soul and Elsie's life ; and now he would gladly get rid of it all, if only he could raise out of its shrunken relics a monument at Orfordness to Elsie. For three long years, that untended grave had silently accused the remnants of his conscience: be deter- mined it should accuse his soul no longer. The big clock on the landing ticked mon- otonously. Eich swing of the pendulum tortured him afresh ; for it called aloud to his heart in measured tones. It cried as plain as words could say : “ Elsie, Elsie, Elsie: Elsie 1” Ah, yes ! He was young enough to begin life afresh, if that were all. To begin all over again is less than nothing to a brave man. But for whom or for what? Selfish as he was, Hugh Massinger couldn‘t stand up and face the horrid idea of beginning afresh for himself alone. He must have some one to love, or go under for ever. And still the clock ticked and ticked on ; and still it cried in the silence of the night ; “ Elsie, Elsie, Elsie, Elsie 1" At last day dawned, and the morning broke. Pale sunlight streamed in at the one south window. The room was bareâ€"a mere servant’s attic. Hugh lay still a 1d looked at the gaping cracks that diversified the gaudin painted Italian ceiling. All night through, he had fervently longed for the morning, and thought when it came he would seize the first chance to rise and dress himself. Now it had really come he lay there unmoved, too tired and too feeble to think of stirring. Fiveâ€"sixâ€"half-past sixâ€"seven. He al- most dozed out of pure weariness. Suddenly, he woke with a quick start. A knock at the door lâ€"a timid knock. Some- body came with a message, apparently. Hugh rose in haste and held the door just a little ajar to ask in his bad Italian, " What is it 2” A boy’s hand thrust a letter sideways through the narrow opening. “ Is it for you, signor '3" he asked, peering with black eyes through the chink at the Englishman. Hugh glanced at the letter in profound astonishment. 0 heavens, what was this? How incredible-how mysterious 1 For a moment the room swam wildly around him ; he hardly knew how to believe« his eyes. Was it part of the general bewilderment of things that seemed to conspire by constant shocks against his perfect sanity ‘2 Was he going mad, or was some enemy trying to confuse and confound him? Had some wretch been dabbling in hideous forgeries ‘2 For the envelope was addressedâ€"0 horror of horrors lâ€"in dead Elsie’s hand ; and it bore in those well~known angular characters the simple inscription, “ Warren Rolf, Esq., Villa della Fontana (Piano 3°), Avenue Vittorio-Emmanuele, San Rsmo.” He recognized this voice from the grave at once. Dead Elsie l To Warren Relf! His fingers clutched it with a fierce mad grip. He could never give it up. To Warren Relf 1 And from dead Elsie l “ Is it for you, signer ‘2" the boy asked once more, as he let it go with reluctance from his olive-brown fingers. “ For me ?â€"Yes," Hugh answered still clutching it eagerly. “ For me lâ€"Who sends it ?" “ The signorina at the Villa Rossaâ€" Signorina Chaloner,” the boy replied, getting as near as his Italian lips could manage to the sound of Challoner. “ She told me most stringently to deliver it up to yourself, sig- nor, into your proper fingers, and on no account to let it fall into the hands of the English gentleman on the second story." “ Good,” Hugh answered, closing the door softly. “ That‘s quite right. Tell her you gave it me.” Then he added in English with a cry of triumph: “Good morning, jackinapes 1” After which he flung himself down on the bed once more in a perfect frenzy of indecision and astonishment. For two minutes he couldn’t make up his mind to break open that mysterious missive from the world of the dead, so strangely de- livered by an unknown hand at his own door on the very morrow of Winifred's sudden death, and addressed in buried Elsie’s hand, as clear as of old, to his dearest enemy. What a horrible concatenation of significant cir- cumstances. He turned it over" and over again unopened, in his awe ; and all the time that morose clock outside still ticked in his ear, less loudly than before : “ Elsie, Elsie, Elsie, Elsie !" At last, making up his mind with a start, he opened it, half overcome with a per- vading sense of mystery. And this was doubt, in dead Elsie's _very own hand- writing: VILLA ROSSA, Thursday, 7.30, morning. Dssnssr WARRENâ€"I will be ready, as you suggest, by the 94’). But you mustn't hiotherkin by the 6.39 on Saturday even- ing San Remo till after dear VVinifred's funeral what he read in it. beyond shadow of go with me farther than Paris. That will allow you to getback to Edie and the .â€"â€"1 wish I could have waited here in was over; but I quite see with you how dangerous such a course might prove. Every moment I stop ex- poses me to the chance of an un- expected meeting. You must call on Hugh when you get back from Paris, and give him poor Winifred‘s last forgiving message. Some dayâ€" you know when, dear- est â€"1 may face seeing him myself, perhaps ' and then I can fulfil my promise to her iii person. But not till then. And that may be never. I hardly know what I'm writing [feel so dazed ; but I'll meet you at thd station at the hour you mention.â€"No time for more. In great hasteâ€"my hand shakes with the shock still.â€"â€"Yours, ever lovingly and devotedly, Ernie. The revulsion was awful. For a minute or two, Hugh failed to takejt all in. You cannot unthink past years at a jump. The belief that Elsie was dead and buried at Orfordness had grown so ingrained in the fabric of his brain that at first he suspected deliberate treachery. Such things have been. He had forged himself 2 might not Warren Rolf, that incarnate fiend, be turn- in his own weaponâ€"meanlyâ€"against him? IBut as he gazed and gazed at dead Elsie‘s handâ€"dead Elsie's own handâ€"unmistakably hersâ€"no forger on earth (not even himself) was ever half so cleverâ€"the truth grew gradually clearer and clearer. Dead Elsie was Elsie dead no longer : she had escaped on that awful evening at Whitestrand. It wasn’t E1 .ie at all that was buried in the nameless grave at Orfordness. The past was a lie. The present aloneâ€"â€"the present was true. Elsie was hero, to-day, at San Remo 1 He buried his face in his hands and wept â€"iwept as he never had wept for Winifred â€"wept as he never had wept in his life be- foreâ€"wept with frantic gladness for Elsie recovered. Slowly his conceptions framed themselves anew. His mind could only take it all in piecemeal. Bit by bit he set himself to the taskâ€"no less a task than to reconstruct the univarse.â€"â€"Winifred must have knowu Elsie was here. 1t was Elsie herself that Winifred and he had seen yesterday. Fresh thoughts poured in upon him in a bewildering flood. He was dazzled. dazed, dumfounded with their nu nber. Elsie was alive, and he had something left, there- fore, to live for. Yesterday morning that knowledge would have been less than noth‘ ing worth to him while Winifred lived. To- day, thank heavenâ€"for Winfred was dead -â€"it meant more to him than all the wealth of Crresus. How opportunely Winifred had disap- peared from the scene l In the nick of time â€"on the very stroke and crisis of his fate I At the turn of the tide that leads on to for- tune! Felix opportunitate mortis, indeed! He had no regret, no remorse now, for poor betrayed and martyred Winifred. Winifred! What was Winifred to him, or he to Winifred. in a world that still held his own beloved Elsie? All’s well that ends well. The Winifred episode had come and gone, But Elsie re- mained as permanent background. And how strangely Winifred herself, in her mad desire, had contributed to this very denouement of his troubles. “ I shall go to San Remo, if I go at all, and to nowhere else on the whole Riviera. I prefer to face the worst, thank you i” The words flashed back with fresh meaning on his soul. If she hadn’t so set her whole heart on San Reine, he himself would never have thought of going there. And then he would never have known about Elsie. For that at least, he had to thank Winifred. ‘ “ When I'm dead and gone, you can marry Elsie 1" But what was this discordant note in the letterâ€"Elsie’s letterâ€"to Warren Reliâ€" Warren Rolf, his dearest enemy 2 Was Warren Rolf at the pension, then? Had Warren Rolf been conspiring against him? In another flash, it all came back to himâ€" the two scenes at the Cheyne Row Clubâ€" Warren’s conversation with his friend Potts â€"the mistakes and errors of his hasty pre- conceptions. How one fundamental primor dial blunder had coloured and distorted all his viewe of the case! He felt sure now, morally sure, that Warren Rolf had rescued Elsieâ€"the sneak, the eavesdropper, in his miserable mud-boat! And yetâ€"if Warren Relf hadn’t done so, there would be no Elsie at all for him now to live for. He recognised the fact ; and he hated him for it. That he should owe his Elsie to that cur, that ser- pent l Discordant note 1 Why, yesâ€"see this : “ Some dayâ€"yaw know when, dearestâ€" I may face seeing him myself, perhaps. But not till then. And that may he never." That may he never ! 0 precious words ! She was leaving the door half open, then, for her poet. Poet l His heart leaped up at the thought. New vistasâ€"old vistas long since closedâ€" opened out afresh in long perspective be. fore him. Ay, with such a fount of inspir- ation as that, to what heights of poetry might be not yet attain ! \Vhat peaks of Parnassus might be not yet scale 1 _On what pinnacles of glory might be not yet poise himself! Elsie, Elsie, Elsiel That was a talisman to crush all opposition, an “ Open Sesame” to prise all doors. With Elsie's love, what would be impossible to him ? Life floated in new colours before his eager eyes. He dreamed dreams and saw visions, as he lay on his bed in those golden mo- ments. E mm was dearer, fairer, than he ever deemed it. The fervor of love and ambition and hate was upon him now in full force. He reeled and revelled in the plenit- tude of his own wild and hectic imagination. He could do anything, everything, any- thing. He could move mountains in his fervent access of faith ; he could win worlds in his mad delight ; he could fight wild beasts in his sudden glory of heroic temper- And all the while, pacr dead Winifred lay cold and white in the bedroom below. And Elsie was offâ€"ofl to Englandâ€"with Warren Ralfâ€"that wretch ! that serpent ! â€"by the 9 40. (T0 or. CONTINUED.) __"_‘_â€" The growth of the Ontario cheese trade is wonderful within a few years. The ex- ports of the Dominion now amount in value no over $7,000,000, and the season just closed shows the largest business on record. The shipments from Montreal this season were 1,134 349 boxes, as against 1,104,065 boxes last year, 507,019 in 1880 and 349,252 in 1374. Of this season’s exports 499,391 boxes went to Liverpool, 140,594 to Glasgow, 235,176 to London and 259,353 boxes to Bristol. Instriking contrast to this state- ment is our foreign trade in’butter. The exports this season were only 46 528 pack- ages, as against 50853 last year, 194,366 in 18§0 and 80,206 in 1874. Of this year’s shipments some. 26,014 packages went to Bristol and 20,253 to Liverpool. ITEMS 0F INTEREST. To keep the lips soft an in good colour, bathe them occasioally v th alum water, followed by glycerine camphor-ice. The Montreal “Witness” oints out that for the first time since it w completed, ‘20 years ago, a train has run ofl‘ “to track in the Montrealbridge. and that this speaks volumes for the care of the Grand Trunk railway offi- cials and employes. It is exceeding fortu- nate that the accident happened to a slow freight train and not to a passenger express. in the latter event the bridge would have been partly destroyed and there would have been a frightful sacrifice of life. A just principle of taxation has been for- mally recommended in a bill introduced into the United States Conmess, having for its object the establishment of a graduated tax on all incomes over $5,000. It is argued by a large class of social reformers that the citi- zen who has a large income can ufi'ord to pay more taxes proportionately than he who re- ceives barely enough wages to supporthimself and family. This is, in fact, a principle reâ€" cognised in Canada by the exemption from taxation of all incomes below a certain fig- ure. The Lopdcn Daily News is landing as a Russian invention the plan of exhibiting inside each railway car a placard containing the name of the nzxt station the train stops at. This is an American invention Which has been in use for many years on certain railways in New England. The reason it is not in universal use is probably because it brings no extra returns to the company’s excequer, and the public-simply taken it as a right instead of an accommodation. In practice it does not di<pense with the neces- sity of shouting out the names of stations for there are the ignorant, the dim-sighted and the old to be cared for, just the peo. ple who are least able to take care of them- selves. , It is, of course, a deplorable thing that in resisting the attempt of a mob of lynchers to force an entrance to the gaol in Birming- ham, Ala., the authorities should have had to shed blood, but the lesson, although a stern one. was badly needed in the United States. Lynching or mob law has been al- together too common in many parts of the Union, and the outrages of the White Caps still remain unpunished. If irresponsible people"are allowed to make their own laws and then execute them, society in general will soon revolveitself into its original chaos. The N. Y. “Times” says2â€"The usual custom for sheriffs and gaolers has been to allow themselves to be overpowered by the mob, and surrender their prisoner to be suspended fera branch of the nearest tree, and this course has encouraged the self-constituted executors of the law of capital punishment until they have become fairly reckless in their criminal proceedings. The Birmingham officers acted on the theory that it was their duty to guard their prison- ers at all hazards. The theory was the correct one, and the bloodshed which follow- ed was only a necessary incident of its ap- plication in practice.” It is to the credit of ‘anada that lynch law is unknown, the punishment of criminals being left to the regular courts of law. ’ ‘A New Denomination. The five Baptist ministers who were ex- pelled from the Baptist Church of the Mari- time Provinces for preaching the holiness doctrine have formed a new denomination, the principal tenet of which is complete sanctification. In Galt five members of the Presbyterian Church have since professed and taught the doctrine, and have in conse‘ quence been tried by the session and by a committee of the Presbytery. The session found them guilty and declared for their ex- pulsion; but the Committee of the Presby- tery has not yet reported. With a view to clearly understanding the position of the ac cused parties the Committee of the Presby- tery. submitted to them these four questions : 1. “ Do you believe that in the case of any man such grace is given in this life that he may perfectly keep the commandments of God in thought, word and deed 2” 2. “ Do you believe that in any case the believer is, in this life, delivered from the in-being of sin ?” 3. “ Do you believe that in this life any mere man is able to keep the commandments of God perfectly ?" 4. “ Do you believe that there is any sea- sons in the experience of any Christians when he does not need to confess sin and ask par- don for same ?" All answered in the afirmative except one, who replied “ no " to question No. 3. The accused parties admitted that they had held meetings for the propagation of the doctrine. It is probable that Ontario will soon have a branch of the new Maritime denomination. __â€".â€"â€"â€"- Episcopal Incomes. The Bishop of New York has the largest personal revenue in this country. It is $10,- 000 ayear. The Bishop of Maine has the smallest. It is $1,300 a year. The Bishops of Californis, Chicago, Long Island and Massachusetts have each $6,000 a Year- Others have'incnmes running from $5.000 down, while eight of the American prelates are content with $2,000 a year each. and are not perfectly sure of getting it in time to meet their butcher’s nooks and coal bills. In England, where the State takes the place of the voluntary contribution in support of the church, the head of the pielacy has an income of $75,000 a year. two of the bis- hops-have each $30,000. Others run from $40,000 down, the average revenue of the episcopate below the greatest named being between $25,000 and c20,000 a yeahâ€"[Chi- , cago Tribune. w out of the Old Man’s Barrel. A young clergyman, receiving a visit from his rather clerical father, treated him to a rather long sermon at the Sunday morning service. “ What did you think of my ser- mon this morning, father ‘2" he asked his reverend parent at the dinner-table on their return home. “Intolerany long, my son. I wouldn’t blame any parishioner for gomg to sleep over such an infliction." “TM-t"! what I thought when you first preached it, father. I dug it up out of your barrel this morning." W General Harrison denies having given utterance to opinions attributed to him that a central fea‘ure of his policy would be an- nixation of Canada to the United states by purchase. The new President has some pro- per ideas of what international comity and official etiquette demand.