that he should be ousted from the seat which he had held ever since his entry into political life in Canada. Mr. Devlin, an Irish Catholic, and a prominent member of the Montreal Bar, was brought out as an opposition candidate, and the most shameless devices were resorted to to secure that gentleman's return. "Every vile epithet calculated to rouse ignorant Irish Catholics,"--says the author of "The Irishman in Canada,"--"was hurled at McGee. He had, as his manner was, gone right round from denying the existence of Fenianism in Montreal, to exaggerating the extent of it, and denouncing it, not in undeserved terms, but in terms which seemed violent from a man of his past history. He won his election, but by a majority which convinced him that his power had greatly waned. He had, however, the consolation that if he had lost popularity, he had lost it in enlightening his countrymen." He had felt it to be his duty to place Fenianism in its proper light before his fellow-countrymen in Canada. He knew that the order was powerless for good, and that it would entail pecuniary loss, if not absolute ruin, upon many well-meaning but ignorant and misguided persons. So far as the Fenian scheme contemplated an invasion of Canada, he regarded it with all the scorn and abhorrence of a loyal subject. For this he was denounced by the Fenians, and held up to execration as one who had sold himself to the spoiler. Before the opening of the first session of the Dominion Parliament he was attacked by a long and severe illness, which brought him to death's door, and from which he only recovered in time to attend at the opening of the session. It was noticed that there was a decided change, not merely in his physical appearance, but in the workings of his mind. He had formerly been addicted to frequent indulgence in strong drink. He had now become rigidly abstemious and regular in all his habits. He seemed to be pervaded by a seriousness which almost amounted to melancholy. His friends believed these characteristics to be something deeper than the temporary humours of convalescence. His serious indisposition had made him reflect, and his situation was one which afforded ample food for reflection. Ever since the delivery of the Wexford speech he had been in receipt of frequent anonymous letters in which he was anathematized as a traitor, and warned to prepare for death. Some of these came from Ireland. The envelopes of a few of them afforded evidence of their having been posted in Montreal; but by far the greater number came from the United States. He affected to console himself with the proverb that "threatened men live long," but he could not bring himself to regard these truly fiendish communications with indifference. He knew the desperate character of the class of Irishmen from whom they emanated, and he shuddered as he reflected that he had at one time been the idol and fellow-worker of such as they. The shadow of his impending doom was upon him.