Prior was going to leave. It was told with tears, genuine tears of sorrow, as she kissed her friend's cheek, and pressed her to her licart. " I only waited for Mr Vane's return, for I knew you would not miss me then," she said. "You must not ask me questions no-\v, I may toll you all yet. It is news I havo in connection with my nnfor tunate husband. I must go to-morrow."

And Mrs Vane, with the delicacy of a lady, forbore to ask a single question, and •only regretted that Edgar's mysterious absence must put off for a time the friend ship that was sure to spring up when they Itnew each other.

« Mrs IMor and I talked tho matter over long and anxiously on her return to town. I was for justice—she f»r mercj. It made my Wood boil to think of the prosperous hypocritical scoundrel escaping the punish ment that his crimes called for. At least, I argued, in reply to her statement that she had passed.her word to save him from public exposure, at least his wife should bo told, so that she might leave the rascal. "To what purpose ?" asked Mrs Prior. "It would, I believe, kill her, and deprive him of his only hope of reformation. lam dead to him, my faend. She is now his real wife, and bad as you know him to bo, he has been to her a good husband for 12 years, It is all between us two and him. I thought it due to our long friendship to tell you. But for my sake I p.sk you to pardon him."

I couldn't say that; but for her dear sake, dearest of women to me next to my own dear wife, her oldest friend, I gave a reluctant consent to her pardon. The curse of forgiveness has gone forth against Ealph Hope from the two in this world that he did the most to injure.

Origin of Proverbs.

"Two heads are better than one," was originated by Fremont Cooper, while head ing a barrel in his humble cooper shop. "All's well that ends well," was said by Hums, when he got a poultice on a lump raised by a hot branding iron, used in the gauger business. "Faint tart never won fair lady," was written by Crabbc when he sent a sour apple pie to his mother-in-law. "Devil take the hindmost,' was probably written by Pope. "Be sure you are right, then go on .head," was the remark of Hood. "Great cry and little wool," is original with Bacon.

"He jests at scars that never felt a ■"rewind."— " Shakespeare." " Man wants but little here below, nor •wants that little long."—" Fellow." "Too many cooks spoil the broth," shows that it must be Browning. " The milk in the cocoanut," is evidently -from the pen of Cowper. "Whistling girls and crowing hens," sounds like He-mans.

" Don't get your back up at trifles," are the words of Campbell. " Smooth words butter no parsnips," the •remarks of Darlyle. "A soft answer tnrneth away wrath," :shows how much Wordswoith.

"Enough is as good as a feast," sonnds as though the author didn't want Hannah More.

"The nearer the bone the sweeter the meat," is evidently Lamb. "As close as an oyster," sounds Shelley. " A thorn in the hand is worse than two in the bush," is from Hawihorne.

"Save at the spigot and waste at the ;hunghole," is from Fawcett. "Not so black as he's painted," sonnds like Dickens.

"Mightier than the sword," were the •words of AVilliam Pcnn.

"The horse leech hath two daughters, crying 'give, give.'" That is Moore, Moore.

"He doesn't know enough to go in when it rains," must be the sentiment of a man like Dryden. There are several others that will readily ■occur to the reader; and when yon do happen to think of them, dear roader, keep them to yourself. Don't print them. There is enough of this sort of nonsense now. \Ve wouldn't have made the foregoing public, :but for the reason that we couldn't think of •anything worse,—" Burlington Hawkeyc."

'The Young Man with a Great Future Before Him.

As yon arc of so numerous a class, and of such usefulness lo the public, a word or bo in yonr praise would seem to be in order. You make yourself felt wherever you go. You spice small parlour talk, you pepper the lycoum debate, and you give zest to -conversation in the shop, in the street car, in the family circle. You have learned the ■art of the kitchen, and you make it warm 'for the women of the noaso at breakfast. You have perfected yourself in thc_ pro fession of news gathering, and you critically ■edit the editor as you lead your morning paper. You have studied political science thoroughly, and on yonr way down town, you let your friends know by a cutting •epigram what fooh such and such statesmen are. You have gathered privately all the golden grain of literature, and you tear even the puffed-up Shakespeare to tatters by a thrast of your lance. You have settled the •problem of the future, and the preacher is levelled by a sly theological slash. But your moat pleasing and powerful accom plishment ia the sneer. It is a piece of ■frozen modesty in mask. It plainly lets people see that, though yon never have •done anything, yet yon have all your linen 4aid for any mentionable achievement oj which the object of your sarcasm has failed. Jones, who is innocent, but companionable, tells of glorious sights seen in the moun -tains and yon take him down a button by a twist of the lip Smith's story, though harmless, is not as classical a* one yon have in your mind, and with just a touch of brass ia the ironical lift of yonr eyebrow, you cut him short, to be continued in Ins next. You have a great future before you, and your delightful sneer niay, in time, become the smile angelic. — "Homo ■Journal.'1

" Mr Matthew?," said a little eirl to tl c celebrated actor, "I do so want to come anfl see you." So 3611 sh<H, my dear; but why do * ynu w»nt to come and ace met "B cause," replied she, " mamma said yon were next door to a bear."' •■'. '

SONG OF THE ANGELS.

[BY JOHN BLA.CKMAN.]

Mows than eighteen hundred yean have passed over this sin-stained earth since, in one of the outlying fields of Bethlehem, a few poor Syrian shepherds listened to tho Song of the Angels. Those humble shep herds, probably, were musing together in the shadows of the palm-trees which sur rounded thorn, while theii- sheep lay stretched in tho silvery moonlight; the morning star, "day's harbinger," was not yet visible over the blue mountains, and naturo was folded in unconscious silence. Not a voice, not a whisper, disturbed the shepherds' holy communions, save tho soft murmur of a neighbouring stream, and the scarco audible whirr of the leaves. It was the dawn of a new era in the history of human progiess ; tho advent of a now reve lation to mankind ; the birthday of Him who came, with love upon His lips, to reveal in His own character the divine image of the Everlasting Father. Amid that deep, mysterious silence, the heavens opened, and in a chariot of clouds came the angels, with tho ever-growing, over widening, moasagc of peace and goodwill to tho oppressed of all nations. It is an old story, so old, ideed, that some persons havo come to regard it as mythical and legendary; yet, however men regard it, the song is fraught with sweet significance, and worthy of quiot consideration at this festive season of the year. Tho Angels' Hong, in truth, ia so beautiful that it would l>e a sin to Suestion its authenticity; and hard must c the heart that is not softened by it« musical influence.

It is of small importance as to the forms and vestures of thoso angelic beings which appeared to those simple-mimled shepherds; it is enough to know that, in .some guise or other, the sweet anthem was hoard by mortal ears, and that its soul-elevating sen timents have come to us of to-day through the long dark vistas of centuries. In silence and in solitude, the soul listens for the voices of consolation and hope. There is great power in silence. The gentle (lowers unfold their potals, and thought grows amid its spcecliless solemnities ; the most blessed things of nature, the noblest human virtues, are nourished by silent culture, and tranquil, proccssivc energy. It is not in the whirlwind, nor in the tempest, nor in the rush of mighty waters, that the hal lowed breath of regeneration comes to man, but in the "still, small voice;" in that noiseless eloquence that reaches the spirit, and quietly falls upon the patient heart, softly as spring dews fall upon the daisies which nestle among the grass. Nor is it to accidental kings nnd nobles—noble alone ofttimes in name and p^sitioii—that Heaven reveals its divine and beneficent secrets. The world's greatest m»n are, frequently, cottage-born. The cradle of Christ was a manger ; His birth-song was first sung by angels to lowly shepherds, or peasants; and the burden of that song, sublime still, was, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill towards men." Even now, like a spirit voice, amid the din of war and savage hostilities, comes that sweet 3om» of the angels, with its unfulfilled wonts to the believer's heart: enmes with gentlest whispers through the evergreens of Christmas which decorate churches, mansions, and cottage?, arising, through our many cares, like the incense that perfumed the early a'inospliere of the Prince of Peace tit comes, with its divine harmonics, like the " music of the spheres," to charm the inner thought in the spiritual temple of life. At this happy period of the year, -the words of the Angels' Song thrill above and beyond the continued turmoils, anxieties, and disappointments of our clouded existence, l.ko the star of promise which guided the wise men to the cradle of the Christian's Hope. Pagans venerated the season for its ruddy festivities; Druids, amid its poetic aspects, rendered blind homage to the mistletoe ; but Christians have a deeper in terest in Christmas-tide—to them the season breathes a sacred histcy, has a, divine moaning, and awakens devout anti cipations of the dawn of a deathless future. The Angels' Song was not given for the tame reiteration of any particular com munity of religionists, nor exclusively for the practice of any sect of men. It was for "nil mankind ;" for tbe prince and peasant, for the statesman and artisan, for the rich and the poor, even for the most unfortunate of our raca " Good will to man " was the beneficent message of the angels—beautiful thought, but impotent in our time for uni versal service. The blind Bartimeuses of society still beg by the wayside of the golden city, -where many die, week by woek, of physical exhaustion. Can no "good-will" penetrate the purlieus of crowded life, and touch the sinkiog hearts of the veriest poor of largely populated places ? "Peace on earth," the desire of every irno and good man, is not yet the practical law of nations. Kings and emperors, in their insatiable thirst for power, pay no heed to those higher laws which promote physical and moral happiness, and tend to the culture of common necessaries; the art of war and weapons of destruction are still fostered and invented; the plough stands in the furrow, while the ploughman is hurried from the half-tilled field to the ruder field of slaughter. Eighteen restless centuries have passed, and generations suc cessively have followed each other to the shadow land; but peace, the burden of the angels' song, has not yet wholly possessed the unsettled hearts of the people. Christmas, with its sublime song, intro duced into our troublous and warring world the " Prince of Peace," and all who would fairly imitate His example must tread in his silent footsteps, and go about doing good. The assumed mission of the warring monarch, or emperor, is in direct opposi tion to the gomus of Christianity; and Christmas comes as a rebuke to the prevail ing war-spirit of the time. The voice of kim'-craft cries, "War, havoc, blood, debt, misery;" but, amid the devastation of the battle-field, comes the voice, whispering like a soft evening breeze over the Gall lean sea,. "I came not to destroy mens lives " But before wo can have a practical knowledge of the seraphic song, our ears must be quickened by trust and love, M spiritual influences are only visible to eyes which Faith and the awakening light ot Heaven hive opened. The season of

Christmas in the other hemisphere, though not with colonists, appears dreary, and (materially considered) of no special ac count: there it comes at mid-winter, here at mid-summer; but whether amid the re fulgence of a colonial summer, or the ap parent solitude of an English winter, the lesson is the .same. Nature ever lives. As Christ slept, so Nature sleeps; and as lie awoke from the dead, so Nature awakes to now life and flowering splendour. There ii no real pause, or woarinosi, no waste in that endless task of the spirit of Nature to evolve the beauty and clothe anew the seemingly lifeless forms of creation. With life and death, and life again, but always with change unceasing—gentle, yet neces sary—Nature weaves the web of the universe into a pattern of unmatched beauty, which she seasonably destroys, that she may make it still more wonderful for the pleasures of sense and sound, that it may minister to tho physical and intellec tual wants of mankind.

Christinas is tlie cradle of the new year ; ami in this wise the season is typical of the Good Shepherd, whose birthday dawns once more upon the earth with good tidings for yearning hearts and languishing spirits ; and can it be unreasonable to believe that what Nature is doing for the visible world, Heaven is doing for the world unseen? Surely, from end to end of creation, the Creator tenderly regards the creatures of his handiwork —from the highest to the lowest—from the best, to the most imper fect, of men. God loves us all, and works His good-will with us; that we may delay but cannot defeat His endless wis dom and inexhaustible love; that we may hasten the time of the pro mised "peace" between man and man — between heaven and earth —by living, not for the transitory hope of day, not for the gold which we mn«t leave be hind us, not for Hellish toil in the acquisi tion of personal wealth and evanescent fame, but for that wealth which is im perishable, for that fame which hallows the turf with sweet memories, reflected from good deeds, and hearts we leave behind. To do this, and in order that the Song of the Angels may become a practical verity among peoples, right action and honest toil are imperative. Wben this beautiful Christmas song, in its several sublime bearings, shall be alike understood by teachers and peoples, then wars will cease, the dawn become morning, and "good will," like the blessed sunlight or the pure mountain breeze, will brin>> the full mean ing of the Angels' Song; and with its realisation will also come-not only at merry Christmas-time, but throughout the year—the opening of that happier era—

" When man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brithers be."

Italian Duke's Unsuccessful Love Suit.

The social rules being such that introduc tions and intercourse arc uot readily to be had as in Anglo-Saxon countries, the sus ceptible Italian in the search for a wife looks about in public to discover some one that may captivate his fancy. 'Die very restrictions placed by society on the easy ac cess to the unmarried ladies only serve to augment his passions and warm his imagi nation, thus casting a halo of charms over a yonng person, ccen by chance ami under difficulties, which ho might never have perceived had he had the same .unre stricted freedom of social intercourse as exists in America between the youth of both sexes. At all events the attraction wonld have come slower and perhaps surer in its results. Here it takes the form of immediate passion end action. I will illustrate the cause and ctlect by n little hi-tory as narrated to me by the heroine herself—tot an Italian, hut 1 shall nut dis close her nationality. Some years ago she was travelling in Italy with a large family party. In one of the chief cities they were sight-seeingin the usual fashion, when they noticed in the gallery with them a young man of dis t nguished appearance, who seemed to re gard their circle more than the pictures. Returning to their hotel they thought no more of such a common incident as a youth gazing nt a party of pretty girls. They had, however, made the acquaintance of a priest of their nation, who had become a regvlar visitor. One day lie took the lather aside, and said ho had a communication of much importance to make to him. A young Italian. nobleman of distinguished family, large wealth, sound health, and an excel lent person every way, had scon his daughters, fallen at sight deeply in love with one of them, whose name lie did not know, had followed them to their lodgings, ascertained who they were and now begged permission to be allowed to visit them with a view of paying his addresses in person to the lady of his choice, The natural Anglo- Saxon instinct was to decline the honour promptly and decidedly. But the priest represented that the young man was serious and honourable as well as |titled and rich, and it would be but fair to the young ladies, as the particular one was unknown to them, to give both parties an opportunity of acquaintance, to see what might come of it, especially as besides his four daugh ters there were four other young and attractive ladies in his party, one of whom might be the lady he was smitten with. At all events, they ought to have the chance to anpwer for themselves Convinced of the honourable intentions of the candidate for one of the young ladies' hand and the girls themselves thinking it a good joke rather than taking the matter seriously, the father consented that the priest should brins; his friend to make their acquaintance. But on the evening desig nated, in order to my*tify him somewhat, they decided among themsolvcs each to wear the same costume, a black silk with only the difference of coloured bows and neck ribbons and to come into the room separately after he arrived. They carried out their programme perfectly. The elegant lorer came punctually, was presented to the parents, and immediately after giving time for the separate presentations and words of ceremony, each young lady, not knowing but she was the object of hisaftec tions,entered the room at regular intervals, underwent the formal introduction, and took lier seat. It was a pioccs'ion. tbat must have seemed endless 'o him, and almost a reproduction cacli time of the preceding lady. To an Anglo-Saxon's masculine nerves and heart it would have been a very

trying ordeal, well calculated to bewilder a youthful lover, and make him doubt flic evidence of his eyes. But not so cor Italian. With the; easy grace of man ner of his race and breeding, lie pre soryed his self-possession. Faultlessly ]ii)lifc iiiul scrutinizing all, notwithstanding tlie wearisome ordeal of genuflections and polite speeches he had to undergo, ho re ninined master of the position. AY'licn the last and youngest entered, his eyes brightened. 1I« placed his chair beside hers, and immediately began conversing, (bus quietly lintiiiiating that he had at last discovered the being, tlie distant view of whom a few dnys before had captured his affections. It was smooth sailing for him now, and in a short time lie made himself, by his manly elegance and intelligence a welcome visitor and attendant of the family, doing Hie honours of the city, and, ill fact, becoming one of them with the per fect tact such as accomplished Italian gentlemen thoroughly possess. In a brief time, with the consent of the parents, he offered himself to tlie youngest, pleading his intense love from lirst sight, and declar ing that he asked for no dowry, his own property was sufficient, and* tllftt if she was reluctant to leave her mother while so young he would agree to give her n house, to settle a large income on her and live half the year in her own country and half in his own. Furthermore, as he was somewhat of a Radical in politics and a Republican in principle, and had dropped his legitimate title, ho would resume it, and as his wife she would be Duchess •, with the arms on her cards and carriages, and all the other paraphernalia of social consideration which belong to aristocratic rank of long descent in Italy. This certainly was a tempting proposition, besides, the youth, sincerity, and unexceptionablcncss of the supplicant to a young lady, but her heart was untouched,and she respectfully declined him lifter a long and passionate pleading of his cane, not unfavoured by her oM'ii family. They parted excellent friends, and years alter he married n princess of his own race.

I have related this, not on account of its special interest as a story, but as :m illustration of the impulsive, im }noniptu, Italian niannor of falling in ovo on no acquaintance at all, and their eagerness and honourable sincerity of pur suit. It also shews that money is not always a consideration with the Italians in seeking foreign wives, a« other in stances I know of also prove.— Home Letter, in New York Times.

A Romance of Crime.

A MURDEUER OF TWENTY YKAKS AGO ON TIUAL.

Philadelphia, Oct. 20—One of the most startling romances of crimo is being developed in the trial of Theodore McGurk for the wilfulnnirder of J. Needs.a coloured porter of White's dental establishment, this city, who, nearly twenty years ago, was found bound, gngged, and murdered by safe-robbers. It was a time when that association of crime, the Moyamensin" hose, was in full swing that this faithful janitor was murdered. The assassins were believed to be members of the hose, and so ellectivcly did they cover up the tracks of their crime that no clue to the murderers was ever obtained, and the crime became lost in the oblivion of time. Eighteen years passed away, when; sud denly the news came from Erie, in the north-western part of the State, that the murderer of James Needs was in custody. The story of the capture and the events which led to it is thus described by the witness:

A few years ago a young and exceedingly beautiful widow of McKean, Erio County, the daughter of a well-known and highly respected farmer, came to this city for the purposo of ministering to the temporal and spiritual needs of the poor nnd unfortunate of Philadelphia. Having just lost her hus band, even in the honeymoon of their marriage, she felt no inclination to roturn to the society she formerly moved in, but ex pressed an earnest desire to devote herself to God. In this desire she was assisted by Christian friends, and she entered one of our hospitals. While performing the duties of a nurso or sister, it was her lot to minister to the wreck of what was once a iine-looking man, He was but little known and was considered beyond human aid. He appeared to bo unconscious of his danger, and discouraged all efforts to discover his identity, which he was anxious to conceal Believing his days numbered, the young widow felt the tenderest compassion for her patient, and frequently sat at his bedside, reading to him or conversing with him about the salvation of his soul. The man would lie staring at her for hours, drinking in, as she_ supposed, the words of comfort she believed _ she was giving, Contrary to expectations, the man recovered, and when he was about to be discharged he called his gentle nurse, and begged her for God's sake to save him from returning to

A LIFE OF CHIME. He told her that for many yean he had been associated with a powerful organiza tion in this city, whose members consid ered no crime' too deep for commission. He had participated in deeds of violence that would appal her could she but know, and he was anxious to escape from their toils ; would she give him a chance to save that soul she professed to bo so anxious about, by getting him a place out in the country, away from the temptations of this city? The young lady agreed to help him in his endeavour to help him self, and to that end she wrote her father, requesting him to find a place on the farm for this m's guided but repentant brother. Farmer Ellis consented, and the man of crimp was transplanted to one of the most beautiful of rural spots in all Pennsylvania, Here he workea hard for some time, attended church, became a communicant, and began to be regarded as an exemplary character. It was noticed that he shunned company, and whenever visito's came from Phila delphia, or other large cities of the State, he would absent himself from the duties in the house and avoid letting himself be seen. In the course of time, the young widow's health made it necessary for her to abandon her course of life and return to

her home in Eric County. Tims it was that the eyes ot the servant ami reclaimed sin nor were lifted up in love for the young mistress. The man's line form liiul lieen developed by work, and possessing a good address and fine education, lie began HIS WOOING After the most approved method. lint (lie lady gave him uo encouragement, Her love was buried with her dead husband, and she assured her convert Unit ho must relinquish all hopes of over being any more to her than a sinner brought to Jc<u.s through her effort*. But this he urged as one of his strongest claims to her love. She had saved his soul, and ought to complete the good ■work by saving his body, etc. Mrs Sanborn resisted this wooing with becoming dignity, but when his importu nities became otfensivo she acquainted her father, and the man was not allowed in the house when siie was present. About this time an accident brought about the fact that McGurk had a wife and two children living in Michigan, lie having abandoned them there. Mrs San horn was shocki dat the deception practised by her convert and more than ever Bought to avoid him. When spoken to about his deserted wife, and reproved for his wickedness in daring to oiler infamy to one who had been so kind to him, the convert fell upon his knees, besought forgiveness of God and the lady, and straightway pleaded his unholy love again, lie was about to be packed oil' about, his business, when, one hot summer afternoon, he was .stricken down by the heat, and was carried into the house almost lifeless. Again he was declared to be dying. Within a week the physician pronounced him n dead man, and could only leave him medicines to alleviate the agonies of death. At such a time, the young widow could not refuse to visit him, us of old. She generously ig nored his past conduct to hor,uud ministered to him as faithfully as when he was lying tick in this city. ■ no night, about the lust ho ever expected to sec, he called her to his bedside and asked her to pray for him. " Pray for a blood-stained soul," said he; and the- lady assumed a sun..limit posture and prayed long and ca r v.-tly for the dy ing. CRIME-STAINED CKIiATUEE. When she arose he clasped her hand and cried: "Oil, God, I cannot die with this crime on my soul." Then, still holding her hand, ho raised himself in his bed and poured into her ear the tale of that foul murder of James Needs, lie described the hall, the faithful janitor's brave defence of his master's property, the struggle and the convulsive contortions of his body as he, the relator, choked him. When ho had concluded the narration of this foul deed, he asked her to pray again for him, and Mrs Sanborn, weak with fright, sank to her knees without ellbrt mid invoked the mercy of God onco more. Once more McUurk dis appointed the doctors. When by every law of medicine he ought to have been dead and buried, ho astonished everybody by getting well, and rising from bis bed a halo man once more. With bis return to health, Mrs fcianborn'sfears of him came back with tenfold force. He renewed his wooing, this time urging that the possession of ilia secret made it necessary to marry him for his own preservation. The young lady was dis tracted, not knowing whether it was her duty to sacredly preserve the confession as a dentli-bcd confidence or divulge it. In

her distress she sought the advice of the Roy. George Irwin, and he told her to con sult a lawyer immediately. She took his advice and laid bare the whole matter be fore Judge Vincent, of Erie. Mayor Stokely, of this city, was telegraphed, and in a few days McG'urk was captured in the McKean Woods, after a desperate resis tance, by Oflicer Fogbach. lie was brought here, and, being tried before Judge 151 ---cock, was convicted and sentenced to bo hanged. His attorneys, Messrs Smith and Morris, obtained a new trial, and it is this second chance for his life which is now pending. Tho celebrated liill McMullcn is a witness, and McGurk's former associates believe they have enough political in fluence to get him off in case of a second conviction. McGurk states that his con fession was the outgrowth of delirium. He has stated that Mrs Hanborn seeks to rid herself of him for the purpose- of covering up amours. Such a statement is believed by none, nnd has increased the public feel ing against the man. The trial will pro bau'y close on Monday.

The Poison of Human Salira.

Recent observations by M. Gauticr (com municated to the Paris Academic dc Mode cine) afFoid reason for believing that the poison of serpents differs from human saliva m the intensity of its effects rather than in essential nature, so that the fears with which a human bite is often regarded may not be wholly unreasonable. M. Gautier took some twenty grammes of human saliva, and, after lixiviating and purifying, obtained a substance which, injected in the form of solution under the skin of a bird, had remarkable toxical effects. Almost immediately the bird was se'zecl with trembling. It staggered and fell to the ground in a state of coma and complete stupor, terminated by death in half an liour or an hour, according to the dose injected aud the vigour of the animal. The pheno mena resembled fully those produced by the bite of a venomous serpent. The poi sonous matter of the saliva is thought to be an alkaloid similar to the cadoveric poisons called ptomaines', which MM. Brou ardcl and Boutmy have isolated. Like them, it produces Prussian blue when mixed with fcrrocyanide of potassium. The facts stated throw some light on the ques tiou of virulent maladies. The present case, it is pointed out, is not that of a true virus; for at hij-h temperatures a virus is destroyed, but when the salivary alkaloid is heated to more than 100° its poisonous property is not affected. M. Gautier studied comparatively the poison of the cobra (one of the m<st foimidablc of Indian serpenTS)'. This, injected in a dose of one milligramme in a quarter of a cubic centimetre of water, under the skin of a chaffinch or a sparrow, kills it in 5 to 12 minutes. One observes torpor and coma, then a period of excitation, with convulsions and tetanic contraction. In connection with the subject, a correspondent in "La Nature" calU attention to a passage of Rabelais in which the poisonous nature of hnman saliva is recognised.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, DECEMBER 24, 1881.

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