G. K. GILCHRIST. Death must have come to Judge Gilchrist as a great relief. He has been an intense sufferer for many years. Twenty-five, twenty, fifteen, ten, five years ago his form was one of the most familiar fa-miliar on the streets of Salt Lake City, but of late he has merely been waiting for what came on Wednesday morning. In the early years of his residence here he was an accomplished lawyer and an American through and through. No man knew better the full history of our Government than did he, and anything which could be construed into a slight or reflection upon that Government was wormwood worm-wood and gall to him. In the old days he was a Liberal of Liberals. Trained in the law he could not understand how laws could be lightly considered con-sidered or how men could seek to compromise with crime. He always had the courage of his convictions, but all his motive instincts were tender ten-der and kindly and generous. His life was a most useful one until his infirmities sapped his strength. He had organic disease of the heart and his sufferings were intense, but they never drove away the old kindly smile or the generous, considerate words that were inborn with him. The comfort to his devoted wife must be the thought that his days and nights of pain are ended and that he earned the rest that has come to him.