ourselves often obliged to buy inferior articles, at nearly double the prices they are fairly worth, in the markets of the world. This would inflict a great loss on our po- | pulation, and one for which they would obtain no sort of equivalent. The treaty or compact establishing a Zollverein would necessarily have some definite limit, in point of time, or be liable to be terminated by notice after a stated number of years. In the meantime, Canada would have accommodated itself to the artificial state of things that would have been brought about; and she would lie helpless at the mercy of the more powerful contracting party in no position to make such terms as her interests would dictate. But why should Canada agree to a tariff so unjustly discriminating? Why should we specially direct such discrimination against a country to which, ties of affection apart, we owe far more than to any other? If Canada, in the fulness of time, should accept a complete independence, we feel sure it will not find a declaration in a hostile tariff. We are obliged to touch on this question, because this is what the Zollverein proposal asks us to do. There may be individuals, like Mr. Young, ready to accept these conditions at all hazards; but they count as nothing in the general run of national feelings and national opinion. This is admitted, in the report of the executive council of the Dominion Board of Trade, submitted to the Board at Ottawa, on January 17, in which they, referring to the resolutions passed at St. Louis, say: "your delegates, however desirous of seeing the old Reciprocity Treaty in force, were not willing to admit the possibility of carrying out a free trade policy between the United States and the Dominion, in manufactures, under the present high tariff of the former." Whatever there is of commercial belligerency, as Mr. Larned expresses it, between the countries, owes its origin to political feeling; and the belligerency is all on one side. Congress charges our wheat twenty cents, our barley fifteen cents, and our oats ten cents a bushel duty. We admit these articles free. One Session, a nominal duty was put on the small grains and coal of the United States-not discriminatingly-by our Ottawa legislators; but so strong was the feeling of the country against the impolicy of the Act, that the House of Commons insisted on its removal, at the very moment when the Joint High Commissioners were engaged in negotiating the Treaty of Washington. Congress is far from being opposed to the general principle of admitting raw products free of duty. At this moment, the free list of the American tariff embraces over two hundred and thirty articles. From this list, the raw products of Canada are, with one or two exceptions, rigidly excluded. Such legislation is liable to the suspicion of being studiously discriminating against a particular country. But the weight of the restriction falls as much on their own people as on ours. "We exchange with them," (Canadians) says Mr. Larned, "almost equal quantities of the cereals, and almost equal quantities, on an average, of flour. Except so far as concerns the barley that we buy from them, and the Indian corn that we sell to them, this trade originates on neither side in any necessity, but is chiefly a matter of simple convenience, of economy in carriage, or of diversification in the qualities of grain. Similarly, and for the like reason, we exchange with them almost equal quantities of coal.” Such being the state of this trade, it is a wonder that it does not occur to Congress that the United States carries on the trade at a great disadvantage; that American citizens enter on the race with the unequal weight of burthensome duties. The remedy is a very simple one: it is to be found in the example of Canada, which makes this trade free, on her side. The extent to which the discrimination of the American tariff is carried ence. own policy: one to which we have adhered for twenty years, and from which we now have no reason to depart. We levy duties for revenue, and for no other purpose; while the high and sometimes prohibitive tariff of the United States has not alone that object in view. Canada desires to establish a closer com in favour of raw produce, when it is not such as Canada produces, may be illustrated by a single article, though it is one which has undergone a certain process of manufacture, but which occasionally enters into other manufactures. Carbolic acid, when used for chemical and manufacturing purposes, is admitted free of duty; when it is used as a medicine to combat disease, it is sub-mercial connection with the United States; ject to a duty of ten per cent.; and when it but desirable as is that object, she cannot is used as a disinfectant to stay the approach pursue it at the expense of all other of disease, it pays a duty of twenty per countries. A demand for a commercial cent. This is the sliding scale of discrimin- and financial connection, in the shape of a ation in favour of manufactures, and against Zollverein, involves more than can be surone of the best guarantees of human exist- rendered to any prospect of trading advanWe are not enquiring whether it be tages. In spite of appearances which seem more important that a nation should man- to negative any immediate hope of putting ufacture certain articles than preserve the the commerce of the two countries on a lives of its people from the ravages of dis- better footing, there are no sufficient reasons ease, but whether Congress does not contra- for despairing that the time is not far disvene its own general policy in the heavy du- tant when something may be done in this ties it levies on the raw products of Canada. direction. Since the Treaty of Washington We find in that general policy a sufficient was concluded, evidences of a better feeling answer to the assumption that Canada have been apparent. The recent Conferought to admit American manufactures duty ence at St. Louis contrasted, in this respect, free, on condition that Congress will restore favourably with the Detroit Convention, held our raw products to the free list, on which during the American civil war. When it they found a place during the existence of comes to be thoroughly understood, by the Reciprocity Treaty. In making this all parties in the Republic, that politics proposal, Americans ask us to do precisely and commerce must be kept entirely disthe contrary of what they do themselves. tinct, there will be a better prospect of imThat alone would not be any sufficient rea- proved commercial relations than at present .son against compliance; but amid all their exists. Against the proposed International economical errors, the practice of the United Commission there is nothing to be said: it States is, on this point, and where Canada may result in good, and can do no possible is not interested, mainly correct. It is our harm. ONE WOMAN'S VALENTINE. I BY L. M. WOULD not have you love me, because you think me fair— A fairer maid some day you'll meet, and then how could I bear Say not you love, because I'm good, or I must dread your changing, And love me not because I'm wise, or witty, grave, or gay, But love me for myself, spite of faults and contradictions, The good and ill, and dark and bright, around my nature twined; To justify your truth, seek for no poetic fictions, And let your heart, not fancy, a cause for loving find. Never call my face the fairest, only let it be the dearest, Never praise me more than others, but love me best of all; Say, "I know she is no goddess, and no angel, but a woman, "She is nothing more than mortal, but still she's all my own, "One day she stole within and softly took possession, Every fibre folded round her, and held her close and fast, Give me love like this, my lover, and then it will not alter, Through clouds, and winds, and waves, its constant light will shine, And I need not fear that heart will ever fail or falter, Which its own strong truth makes steadfast, more than any worth of mine. Love may vary every day, if it seeks a better reason For lasting than the faith noble hearts keep true and pure, But the majesty of love guards from any stain of treason Him who in the words "I love," gives a pledge that must endure! I A NIGHT OF TERROR IN THE BACKWOODS OF CANADA: A TRUE STORY: BY MRS. M. E. MUCHALL, AM growing old, my readers, and my hair once so dark and glossy is thickly lined with silver threads. My eyes, once bright and sparkling, are growing somewhat dim; and my children and grandchildren often tell me that my memory is failing fast. It may be so, but, although I cannot always | recall trifling events from one day to another, I can remember as perfectly as if it had only occurred yesterday-a night of terror that I once spent in the backwoods of Canada. It was in the year that we settled in our little log house, in the township of D—. Ours was the only clearing for over a mile on either side, and the road to my brother's was merely a blazed path through a thick pine forest. Soon after we came, my husband let the clearing of a fallow to a family-Burke by name. The family consisted of seven brothers; a wild, fierce looking set of men they were, with the exexception of the two youngest-Mike and John. Ulick, who was the oldest of the lot, was a remarkable looking man, with just the sort of face I have seen in pictures of Italian brigands. His features, strictly speaking, were handsome, but his expression was villanous. He was an awful tyrant to his brothers, that is, to all but the one next in age to himself. On Pat he lavished all the fierce love of his nature, and a word from him would have the effect of calming down Ulick's wildest gusts of passion which, on the slighest provocation, broke out and vented themselves on anything or anybody that came in his way. Often when he came over of an evening to sit with Isabella, my servant, with whom he was no favourite, would he question her about our affairs; whether we kept much ready money in the house, and where we stored the silver plate, which he one day caught sight of when she was cleaning it. It was her opinion that he was a desperate character, and that he was an escaped convict. For my own part I always felt an instinctive dread of the bold stare he never failed to bestow on me, if by any chance I entered the kitchen while he was in it, which I did as seldom as possible if I knew he was there. Once he sent a message to the effect that he was ill and would like me to go over and read to him. Feeling sorry for his suffering I immediately made a little custard for his dinner, and was just crossing the garden on my way to the shanty, which stood at the foot of it, when I met Isabella, who had been out carrying a lunch to my husband. I mentioned to her my errand. No sooner did she hear it than she said— "Wait till the master comes in, Mem, or let me take the custard over myself." "But, Isabella, the poor man wishes me to read to him. He sent word by Mike that he was all alone; the men are busy in the fallow." "All the more reason for you to stay at home, Mem. I know that man better than you do ; the chances are that he is not sick at all; 'tis only an excuse to get you over there just to frighten you, for he knows right well that you dislike him; and I can see by the way he looks at you that he hates you for it, and would like dearly to play some trick on you." Of course I gave up all idea of going after hearing this, and from that hour my dread of Ulick Burke increased greatly. I looked forward anxiously to the time when our fallow would be chopped, and the shanty rid of its rough inmates. It was in the early part of the month of February that business of importance obliged my husband to take a journey to C- -a town, some miles from home, and in those days it was a journey which involved both fatigue and delay. In the house we had no man-servant, not even a boy, so that Isabella was my only protection in my lonely dwelling in the wilderness. My brother's house, as I before mentioned, was over a mile away, and John's departure was so sudden that we had no time to let him know about it. Often All day long after I parted with my dear husband I felt oppressed with a vague sense of coming danger, which rather increased than diminished as night closed in. through the day I cast a longing look at the dark pine woods which belted us in like a great black wall, and felt sorry that I had not ventured through them to my brother's, as I knew how gladly he would have welcomed me. Never had the wind sounded so mournfully in my ears as it did on that February evening, as it moaned and sighed through the tall pine trees, or blew in fitful and angry gusts across our clearing. Ulick and some of the other brothers had that day gone down to P to purchase supplies of pork, whiskey and tobacco. It was about nine o'clock when the harsh voices of the men shouting to their tired oxen broke upon my ear, and as they drove into the yard loud words and horrid oaths showed only too plainly that they were by no means sober. After a time, however, I heard nothing more, and hoping that they had gone quietly to bed for the night I was just rising to tell Isabella that I wanted her to sleep in the little room next to my own, when raising my eyes towards the window I caught sight of a face pressed close against it, which, even in my terror, I recognized as Ulick Burke's. Fortunately I had sufficient command over myself not to scream, though my knees knocked together with fright. I rose up at once and staggered rather than walked into the kitchen. Isabella was sitting with her back towards me, and before she caught sight of my ghastly face the door opened, and in walked Ulick. He closed the door carefully behind him, and stepping up directly in front of me fixed his dark gleaming eyes upon my face with a leering expression of triumph that sent every drop of blood up to my heart. I could not articulate a single word; a deadly fear crept over me more than once. I tried to speak but the words died away on my lips. "What brings you here so late, Ulick? The fire is out in the shanty, I reckon, and you are wanting a coal to kindle it," said Isabella, coolly. "The fire is not out," he replied, slowly, without removing his eyes from my face, but I knew the master went away this morning, so I just stepped in to sit a while with your mistress and you. 'Tis a lonesome thing for two helpless women to be by themselves in the bush, let me tell you." As he ceased speaking he drew a chair to the fire and sat down. Isabella sat behind him so that I could see her face, while he could not. She answered my imploring look by making signs to me, not to show so plainly how terrified I really was. Then turning round she said "The mistress and myself are obliged to you, Ulick, but did not you know we expect the master every minute? I thought it was himself when you opened the door." He laughed a low, scornful, mocking laugh and again fixed his eyes on me as he said— "You may spare your looks then, for he started about noon for C—. It'll be some time before you see him again; perhaps never." "Sure," she answered, quickly "did he not leave them papers that he was going about behind him, and the Missis told me herself that he could do nothing without them, SO we would see him back this very night for them. It |