place. For two years the firm has been Gauge, Burrill & Fountain. During this time I have lived with Burrill, who in my absence and much against my will had married my mother. The marriage of such elderly people has always seemed to me supremely ridiculous; but I must confess that both seem to be happier on account of their union, and my mother's careful ministrations have no doubt done much to prolong a useful and worthy life.

It is not need that has induced me to dwell thus modestly with these good people. My balance in the London bank was so swollen by deposits in my favor from time to time that before taking my departure I deemed it advisable to invest the greater part in bonds, which I placed on deposit with a safe company. I might therefore have figured as a rich man or engaged in speculation with abundant capital at my back; but I have no desire to be a "plunger," and do not know at what moment this money may be required for some other purpose. So I have lived quietly with the old people upon the Jersey hill-crest which fashion has ignored, though it is perhaps the sightliest place in the world, overlooking the homes of more millions than can be observed from any other point. Perhaps a special reason for this is the fact that the memory of the woman I love clings about the house and I keep hoping that her voice may summon me from it.

Where is she? I do not know; but I have this satisfaction: wherever she may be, it is my name that has furnished her an impenetrable cover from her enemies. No search has been sufficient to penetrate her disguise; no reward has proved adequate to discover her whereabouts. I am the only one who knows anything about her, and this is all I know.

Whether I shall ever know more I cannot tell. There have been strange revelations made in tracing up the life of Andrew Hazzard,revelations which, if they should once get beyond the barriers which the law places on the attorney's lips, would make the world wonder whether the financial miracles which have rendered his name famous for all time are any more wonderful than the power of self-obliteration and concealment of plans and purposes which enabled him to duplicate himself so many times, to live so many successful lives and leave no tangible clues to his identity in either. More than one who did not dream of relationship to him has found a part of the millionaire's estate proffered for their acceptance. To all questions of how or wh Mr. Swallow has been deaf and dumb. Some accepted without question; others demanded more; all eventually came to his terms. Mr. Minton's wonder at being selected as the counsel for the great estate was increased when he found that a portion of it was carved out for John Codman's erratic daughter's lost child.

Professor Cadmus was the one friend whom Hazzard had trusted in all, or at least many, of his aliases. He had known him as a poor visionary country tailor, and had advanced him the money necessary to secure his first patent. This had been many times repaid; but money did not stick to the fingers of this erratic genius, and financial reverses finally compelled him to appeal, like his more fortunate friend, to the security of an alias. The fame of his great case brought him

again to Hazzard's notice, and he was never afterwards allowed to feel the need of money. Mr. Swallow averred that the dead man desired this friend of his youth to be amply provided for, and it was done. So, too, some notable public charities were aided, Mr. Swallow declaring himself only the agent of the dead man's purpose. So the great estate melted into fragments. The evil of a life of wonderful activity and strange irregularity was at last partially remedied, and the name of the great financier left untarnished by tangible shame, so that it will long be cited as an example and an incentive to the young of a land which exults far more in the wealth of its millionaires than in all the other facts of its history.

But there is one thing the executor cannot find out; and that is, what has become of the woman who was the wife of Andrew Murray Hazzard when he died. That is my secret, my romance. We are told that men are romantic at twenty and sensible at forty. I think it must be the reverse with me. I am getting on towards forty, and am more romantic than ever before. So I sit and muse under the sloping roof, in the cosey little room where I first told my love, as the second year draws to its close since the dead man summoned me to do the work he left unperformed.

Will the world ever know my secret? I am sure I cannot guess. Never will my lips reveal it unless unsealed by the touch of hers. What is that? A cablegram for me? I snatch the yellow wrapper with its cautionary device, glance at the superscription, sign the receipt, and tear open the envelope. It has come. My waiting is at an end. To-morrow I begin a new life. Where? Oh, I care not. I am going to forget the past, live in the present, and dream of the future. What will I do? Write my name Gerald de Fontaine once more, after the good old style. Who is it from? What are its contents? I would not take all of Andrew Hazzard's millions for that little bit of paper, with its scrawly address and one word of message. It is from my wife, my wife, whom I married a short month after her husband's death, in the most popular church in London, and left hidden under her own proper name in the little villa at Ipswich. Not once has suspicion turned towards her or myself.

How did we arrange it? It was all arranged for us. We met Paris three days after his death, each acting by his direction, and Por, knowing whom we were to meet. His wishes were that we should foe married without delay, publicly and regularly, according to English law, and retire at once to the villa I had purchased. This would hide her effectually. No one would suspect the transformation until she chose to declare it, if she ever should.

It was not at all romantic. Harsh, cold, matter-of-fact was the dead husband's letter to the young widow. She made two conditions. The first was that she be allowed to renounce all claim to the husband's estate. I did not object. I do not love poverty, but I would have faced want to call her mine. The second was harder,-that I should leave her as soon as we were wed, and not see her again until she summoned me. When would that be? She did not know: she would give no hope. These terms she would not abate a jot, except that I

might write to her, not above once a month, and she would answer,if she chose. I accepted. She would at least be mine,-be known by my name. I have complied with the conditions, have waited, and written-twenty-three letters. Three brief notes have come in reply.

And this telegram of one word,-what does it mean? "Venez." That is all it says. In a fortnight the second anniversary of our marriage will occur. Does she want me then? Has she learned to love me a little? I do not know. She has summoned me, and I obey. Whatever happens, I shall never return to the old life.

Am I not afraid through her to link my soul with Hazzard's sin? Did not all the good of that wild, wonderful life spring from her unstainable uprightness, her sinless sinfulness? Do not quote any wise saws to me. Did you ever note in what soil flowers grow? But it matters not: I think I would give for her all there is of life, present and to come. I am not sure that to give her ever so little joy I would not bar myself from all chance of happiness.

Yet I am not without hope. On what is it based? She has written no word of love,-given no hint. But in the Salon this year there was a wonderful picture,-at least a curious one. Somebody sent me a photograph of it. It was entitled "The Betrothal." A woman in widow's weeds, her face turned away from the beholder, holds a letter in her right hand, the arm falling straight down against the black drapery. She is talking to a man who holds a richly-ornamented casket upon his knee. The painter is unknown. All Paris is agog to guess the riddle. The face is mine.

Albion W. Tourgee.

WHY I DENY EVOLUTION.

T must be creation or evolution,-creation by some personality and action; or by some impersonality from the lowest point of life, by slow development reaching higher and higher in the scale of beingy until man has been reached,-the most complex and perfect of organisms.

The following argument and demonstration, both on paper and by the mechanical duplication of a complex organ, showing its actual application to the living being, are made in answer to Mr. Darwin's two queries or demands.

1. He says, "Demonstrate to me a complex organism that can be made in any other way than as I say by slow slight modification, and my argument falls to the ground."

2. In contemplating the human eye and how nearly man had by mechanics and the law of optics duplicated it, Mr. Darwin was led at once to doubt his own arguments, since he had denied design and intel

ligence in nature. He says, He says, "Is it not presumption to suppose the Deity works intelligently as man does?"

To Mr. Darwin's first query, I reply that I have duplicated by design and intelligence the most complex organ in the human body and made it perform the same function as the natural organ, and I can explain all the laws by which it was first designed and then made.

To the second query I can but say, "O God, I do thy works intelligently, as thou didst, by the same intelligence, before me.'

The following claims, then, embody the arguments which I propose to place in book form. These will suffice to draw attention to the facts and prepare the reader for a broader and more detailed exhibit which shall show throughout that there is yet something which evolutionists have never had brought to their attention. I simply ask to be heard and studied from this stand-point.

I claim to have discovered the laws by which organic forms are shaped in order to reach their highest efficiency.

I claim to have made a demonstration of the construction of a complex organism-the human teeth-according to these laws; a demonstration which accounts for all the functions of the natural organism.

I claim that this demonstration is the true representation of the jaw made for the first man; that from it there can be no variation to a higher type; that the only change possible would be retrogression.

I claim that the human jaw was a special creation, not a "work of evolution," and that nature, or the Deity, could not change it now for the better.

I claim that if I am able to form such a complex organism by a single act of creation, I must be greater than nature, or must have anticipated her by millions of years.

I claim that this organism could not have been made from that in any other existing type of animal or combination of animals.

I claim to have discovered that the lower jaw of man is an equilateral triangle, and that all races have it, and that it has so existed from the advent of the first man.

I claim that it belongs exclusively to man; that this equilateral triangle shows that there cannot exist any organism higher in the scale of being than man; and that, as the circle is the recognized embodiment of perfection of form, the equilateral triangle in the hexagon is the only angle that is the equal of the circle.

I claim that the six superior incisors of man make just the onethird of a circle, and that the radius of that circle is found in the mean diameters of the superior centrals, laterals, and cuspid of one side; that the mean diameters of the base of the incisors and cuspids of the human teeth show that each one is an equilateral triangle; that unless this were so arranged the human jaw could not be absolutely perfect; that inasmuch as the equilateral triangle cannot be gotten into any other than a perfect circle, it shows that the jaw has reached its limit of usefulness and efficiency.

I claim that it is as necessary to have six incisor teeth, which form the third of a circle or one arm of the equilateral triangle, as it is to

have six sides to a hexagon; that less than six would disarrange the whole organism.

I claim that if the hexagonal cell of the bee is a perfect geometrical figure and cannot be improved upon, that the lower jaw of man from the centre of each condyloid to the other, and from these to the median line at the incisor teeth, being an equilateral triangle, and the embodiment of the hexagon or the perfect circle, no other form of jaw could have been made to give to the human teeth such perfection of form.

Since the laws of geometry and mechanics underlie not only the principle of formation of the human jaw and teeth, but of all organisms that have shape and action,

I claim that as Newton discovered that geometry and mechanics governed the formation and action of the astronomical worlds, I have an equal right to the discovery of the relation of the same laws to the structural organic world.

I claim that, if the first law of motion be correct, namely, that a body once set in motion will continue to move in a straight line forever unless deflected by surrounding bodies and made to describe an orbit, then, as no world ever did go in a straight line, but began at once to make a circle or ellipse, and since we have no evidence that there is such a thing as a straight line in nature,-only in art,-nature must abhor a straight line, and it is plain that it never began the universe by making one world at a time and throwing it into space, it being absolutely necessary that there should be at least three worlds in order to counterbalance each other and make the first law of motion a fact.

I claim, then, that if this be true the truth is just as applicable to the organic world; that it is utterly impossible to conceive of the existence at any time in the history of life of an organ that was not globular; that if globular or spheroidal then it could not have existed alone at any moment for a single instant; that if of such shape it must have action, since it was so shaped by attraction and repulsion from all sides, and motion must be begotten and kept up from the combined effort of many bodies.

I claim that the bare assertion of attraction and repulsion is evidence that there must have been a third factor giving power to these; and that as evolution has to begin from a single germ, the first law of motion denies the theory.

Hence I claim that the laws of geometry and mechanics deny evolution.

And I claim still further that from the highest to the lowest forms of organic life each is absolutely true to these laws, and that if we admit their prior existence in governing the formation of bodies from molecules into spherical masses we must grant that law is order and that intelligence is implied, and that where there is intellect there must be personality.

I claim, then, that life could not have been prolonged without the fittest-the most efficient-organ having been made at the earliest stage; otherwise it could not have been continued; that all organic life that has motion must have some point of attachment for muscles or a fulcrum by which the levers act, since they are not, as claimed by