the chance. So the old glass makers set themselves to provide picture stories,—beautiful, no doubt, but the beauty was not their only motive. "Art for Art's sake," a modern theory, found no place in their plan. They desired to instruct. As an old writer puts it: "Picturæ fenestrarum sunt quasi libri ecclesiarum,"—"Pictured windows are as it were the Church's books." In those days the eye learnt, as it fell on glass and fresco, and mosaic work on the walls of the church, as we learn to-day from print and paper.
I was reminded of this lately. Going into the church one day—a public holiday—I came across some visitors from the South. One of them, an old man—a Scotchman—with his son and daughter-in-law, of the type of Presbyterian which used to regard stained glass as a mortal offence in the House of God. I took them round and explained each window. "Eh!" said the old man, "but ye can read your Bible in yon windows."
The total cost of the church has been £20,697, exclusive of many valuable gifts, such as reredos, marble panelling, pulpit, lectern, altar rails and font. Of this some thousands remain as debt, but it is all taken up in debentures by parishioners, and we have every reason to think that in a few years it will be wiped out. Nearly every penny of it has come from St. Mary's people, and their generous liberality has not crippled their annual contributions for the maintenance of the ministry and the general upkeep of the church.
The day of Dedication of the completed portion of the church was a red letter one in the annals of the parish. The Bishop of the Diocese and forty visiting Clergy were present. At 11 a.m. the Dedication took place, followed by a Choral Celebration of Holy Com-
