There are three old saws that nobody in the world appears to be paying the least bit of attention to just now but even a principle allows: "Comparisons are odious." [?] [?] often say: "Comparisons are onerous," or "Comparisons are offensive." These speeches are the result of three men trying to say the same thing, each in his own way. [balance of paragraph illegible-14 lines of print]. Every paper, every pen ordeal is out of this century as compared with last. Now one's head fairly reels with comparisons. It would be such a relief if some adventurous sage or ubiquitous outcast would leave reminding us and began to [?] for a second. The poor last century is suffering so by being contrasted with the new one. And alas! I did state it as a comparison, offensive and odious. So the one precise, to bridge the charm of dividing years are, brevity [?], and are the probabilities of the next century; let us have a little propriety, instead of quite so mean a history.

Everyone appears to be making comparisons from his or her own particular point of view. Margaret Sangster would thrash the young man of a century ago, and young woman of today. The game on the eve of the last cycle [?] [?] in season and out of season. She broke into tears at the slightest provocation and was thoroughly unaware of the eighteenth century acceptance of the word. We may smile sagaciously at these manners of our great grandfathers, and mentally pat ourselves on the back for our improved methods but if these methods are to be judged by [?] she must [?] had the "why girls of those days got her own way quite as easily by the same [?] methods of tears and as we do by much more [?] methods. Perhaps she was a little ahead of us in the long run for she was able to preserve that mysterious and dainty aloofness and sanctify of sex which we have affirmed ourselves able to dispense with but it is nevertheless and always will be the trump card in a woman's hand.

If freshly laundered resolves are to be the order of the day here is one for your consideration. It has been mentioned before, we've no doubt, but being freshly brought to notice, Sunday it cannot yet have been sufficiently impressed on every body. Nearly all of us belong to some one particular church, where we know everyone and are known to everyone. We are perfectly at home there. We have our own particular pew, and became accustomed to its comfort. Very many of us can remember, without any great effort of memory, that there was a time when we did not have a church home, and can also remember with a little 'smarty' feeling still how uncomfortable we have been made to feel at strange churches which we visited. By active rudeness? Perish the thought, certainly not! Simply by calm, cold indifference. Surely the great social safeguard of the "introduction" might be waived in the Master's House. Don't "size up" the stranger who has been shown into your seat before you speak to her. Speak first, and the probabilities are that you will have lost all desire to "size her up" afterward. The way the discrimination and classification process goes on in the church of the great, I use the term in all reverence. Reform and Class leveller Jesus Christ, is a truly marvellous thing. If there is one thing in the world that will convince one of the absolute truth of the statement; "With God all things are possible," it is the assurance we have that in Heaven there will be no distinction between Whitechapel and Mayfair, the Tenderloin Distinct and Fifth Avenue--It is almost more than the mind of mortal can conceive--that we shall be able to dispense with introductions. Kindness and courtesy in church or chapel, irrespective of a last year's bonnet, and a leg of mutton sleeve, will do more toward convincing others of the sincerity of "Christian charity" under the sun than almost any other thing. I don't mean the courtesy that prompts the appointing of say, two or three elders or deacons to stand at the church door and shake hands with the departing visitor, and so relieve the congregation of its duty, but the courtesy that prompts individual smiles and words of welcome and invitation to come again. The shake-hands-at-the-door idea is all right, but it is just a wee bit of a farce when it comes to making a young man or woman feel at home; don't you think?

The popularity of the shirt waist is in no sense waning, particularly does the black silk shirt waist appear to have come to stay. It is just popular as ever and is really a case of "the survival of the fittest," for really, anything more "fit" for nearly every occasion, it would be hard indeed to imagine. The black taffeta waist should be a part of every woman's wardrobe. French flannels also continue to be much in vogue and the new ones are very pretty, and come in almost every conceivable shade, white, old rose, black, grey, [?], navy blue, brown and red. Dots are preferred to stripes in design, and the waists are plainly made either with tucks or stitched bands and gilt or pearl buttons as the trimmings. The long sleeve is still the popular sleeve for the shirt waist, with the flare cuff of course. [?] [?] and broad lace collars are worn with almost every description of bodice and add greatly to be a dressiness of effect. The Empire girdle is the most fashionable at present, and a [?] fastened at the left side with a bow. Floral and velvet ribbon for both neck and waist are coming again.

Mrs. Acheson of Middletown, Connecticut, who has been staying in town with her parents at Waveney, has returned home.

Mrs. Peplar, of Port Hope, has been staying at St. Stephens Rectory with her parents, Rev. A. J. Broughall and Mrs. Broughall. Mr. and Mrs. Goldwin Kirkpatrick entertained the Euchre Club on Friday night at Cochrane.

Mrs. Mackenzie Alexander gave a small informal tea on Saturday afternoon in honor of Mrs. Bingham (England).

Mrs. Corey and Miss Corey, who have been spending Christmas and New Year in Hamilton, have returned home.

Mrs. Young and Miss young of Hamilton, are the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Henry Cawthra, Yeadon Hall.

Mrs. S. G. Beatty of Oakdene will entertain the German Conversation Club on Saturday evening.

On Saturday afternoon Miss Fulton, Church Street, gave a tea for her guests, Miss Grace Beck of Kansas, and Miss Lula Risbon of St. Thomas, Miss Fulton was assisted by Mrs. J.N. Fulton, Miss Hobson, Miss Jessie, Perry and Mrs. W. A. MacLaren. The tea room and table were decorated with pink and white roses, and pink shaded lights. Glionna's orchestra was in attendance.

Invitations are out for the second Assembly of Royal Grenadiers to be held at the Horticultural Pavilion, January 18th, 1901, at 9 p.m.

Mrs. Macbeth reopens today her cooking classes at the Y.W.C.A, McGill street this evening at eight o'clock. Mrs. Macbeth, will lecture on "Invalid Foods" to a class of nurses from the Sick Children's Hospital.

To-night at eight o'clock in the Guild Hall, McGill street, Mr. R. A. Donald will give a talk on "The Religion of Four Novels." They will be considered in this manner (a) "The Reign of Law" by James Lane Allen. Motive, "There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds." (b) "The Redemption of David Carson," by Charles Frederick Coss. Motive, "As long as the lamp holds out to burn, the vilest sinner may return." (c) "The Farrington's" by Miss Forster. Motive, "And they were canopied by a clear sky, so cloudiness, clear and purely beautiful that God alone was seen in heaven." (d) "The Master Christian" by Marie Corelli. Motive:

"Truth crushed to earth will rise again,
The eternal years of God are hers,
While error mounted writhes in pain,"
And dies among its worshippers."

On Tuesday evening Dr. Kathryn Bradshaw will lecture on "Respiration" in connection with the physical culture class at the Y.W.C.A.

On Thursday evening the ambulance class in connection with the Nursery and Hygiene class at the Y.W.C.A. will meet, with Dr. Fenton in the chair.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise to the heart, and gather to the eyes.
In looking on happy autumn fields
And thinking of the days that are no more.

Fresh as the first beam, glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the under world.
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge.
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those, by hopeless fancy feign'd,
On lips that are for others: deep as love,
Deep as first love and mild with all regret--
O, Death in Life, the days that are no more.

"The Princess," Tennyson