Earlier text: WHAT CAN I DO?To Every Man His Work.
By Editor
IN a parable (Mark 13:34), our Lord sets forth what he expected of his servants during his absence in Heaven, where he has gone to prepare a place for us, and get a kingdom. Presently he will return, to reckon with his servants, and set up his kingdom. It is a matter of no little importance for us to look closely and carefully into our charge, and see whether we are faithfully carrying out his will and doing his work. "To every man his work" seems to include us all. There is a growing tendency on the part of the majority of church members to throw all responsibility and work upon the church officers, and among church officers there is a growing tendency to shoulder the work of the church off onto the pastor, and leave him to enlist such as he may be able to do in the work of the Lord. The bulk of Christians who come within our observation seem to act upon the principle that churches are organized and maintained for the sole purpose of providing them with a comfortable place in which to worship God, when they feel so disposed. For this they are willing to pay a reasonable pew rental to cover running expenses and provide a moderate salary for the minister. Having done this, it is assumed that they have fairly commuted for all work and responsibility. We are sorry to have to put the point of our pen into these sore spots in our church life; but "necessity is laid upon us." Our observation and information is that but a very small proportion of those church members who have both the time and ability to do so, are engaged in any definite work for the Lord. As for those who say they have no time to do any specific work for Christ, it might be well to ask whether that very fact is not a condemnation of them. What right has any Christian to become so absorbed in his own business that he has no time to attend in any degree to his Master's business, nor take part in any of the active work of his kingdom. Moreover, it cannot be true of any one that, between the home and the store or office, there never occurs an opportunity for doing some work, or leaving some little witness for him who loved us and gave himself for us, and who has chosen us to be a people for his possession, "zealous of good works." Jesus won a soul and started a testimony which stirred a whole city and made many believers, while he was "resting thus on a well," being weary with a fatiguing journey. John 4:6. Ought we not to learn something of the importance and advantage of utilizing chance opportunities like this, always occurring in the midst of the days? Might there not be a moment spared from the perusal of the morning or evening paper, while on the way from home or store, to say a word for Christ, or at least pass a tract which might commend him? Might not a little of the time consumed in political discussion be diverted in favor of another "Candidate," who is seeking the love and trust of sinners? One of the ablest and most useful Christians in a neighboring large city said, in answer to the question, "What led you to become a Christian?" "A half-pound pressure on my coat button for five minutes." By this he referred to the fact that, after consulting his lawyer, who was a Christian man, upon some matters of business, the lawyer gently laid hold on his coat button, and kindly asked him about his soul, and commended Christ to him. This seasonable word was used of the Holy Ghost to awaken his soul to its need of salvation. Have you no such opportunity? Some work for Christ is within the reach of every man, woman, and child, who are disciples of his. Else would he not have said, "To every man his work." What that work is which Christ has for you to do, is a matter which you ought to find out. There are many who say, I do not know what there is for me to do. We are sure that where there is first a readiness of mind and heart to do something for the Master there will not be long wanting a spiritual knowledge as to what there is to be done. Nor is it a mark of healthy condition to wait for your pastor to find something for you to do. If you are in real earnest to serve God and Christ you will be enabled to find your own work. We would despise a young man who stood about with his hands in his pockets saying he did not know what to do. We lose patience almost with some others, who are always wanting some one else to look up work for them. Find something to do. Do the first thing that comes. Do not stop to pick and choose work. Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do that with your might. Do it well and honestly and as unto the Lord, and he will give you more and better work to do. But do something; do anything rather than do nothing. If you can do no more, go and take care of some tired mother's children, and let her go to church. (This if you are a woman.) Go and hunt up some absent and careless member of your church, and find out what "ails him." Go and call upon some sick neighbor and take a flower with you, and give it in the name of Christ. Write a note and invite some neighbor, whom you know does not go to church, to go with you and tell him that you will call for him. Go and make a call upon the last family that came into the church and give them a hearty welcome, and thus make them feel at home. They will thank God and bless you for it. There are a hundred things to do, both small and great, lying at the door of every man and woman in the church, if only they had the eyes to see them; and they would have the eyes to see if they had the heart and will to do after seeing. Oh! the idlers and drones in Zion. If a man with means should come to church year after year, never hire a seat, and never give a penny to support the gospel, he would be universally regarded as a mean, covetous man. A committee would wait on him and labor with him. But there are hundreds of men and women who come and go to church year after year who never lift their hand to do any service for Christ, and they still retain their standing and the good opinion of their brethren and of the church. It is high time that we should awaken out of our sleep, and every man and woman find their work, and then do the work they find to do.—Independent. SHALL I keep my precious jewels?
Shall I, can I yet withhold
From that living, loving Saviour,
Aught of silver or of gold—
Gold so needed, that his gospel
May be known from sea to sea?
Can I know Christ's service lacketh,
Yet forget his "unto me"? No; I lay them down, my jewels,
Freely on the altar now;
Stay, I see a vision passing
Of a gem-encircled brow;
Heavenly treasure, worn by Jesus,
Souls won through my gift outpoured;
Freely, gladly will I offer
Jewels thus to crown my Lord.
—Sel. GREELY EXPEDITION.
By Missionary Review
If the sufferings, heroism and endurance of the Greely party, in uninhabited Arctic regions, to get two miles nearer the north pole, had been exhibited in carrying the gospel to the degraded of Africa, or to the cannibals of New Guinea and other islands of the ocean, how much more honorable to humanity, while promotive of the highest well-being of man and the glory of God!—Missionary Review. Faithfulness to Truth
By Austin Phelps
If a man is faithful to truth, truth will be faithful to him. He need have no fears. His success is a question of time.—Prof. Phelps. A Competent and Faithful Ministry
By Methodist Recorder
THE great need of the church to-day is a competent and faithful ministry. Very much depends upon the character of the men who fill the sacred desk, and who dispense the word of life to the people. To a very great extent they give direction to the efforts of the church, and their influence is largely felt in moulding its spiritual character. An incompetent ministry cannot build up the church, because it lacks the ability—the essential qualifications—necessary to that end. A blind man is not a safe guide. A man who does not know the way himself, cannot safely be trusted to conduct others therein. This is eminently true of the ministry. Paul presents this subject in a very clear light in his second letter to Timothy. He says, "The things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also." In order to be a minister, it is not enough that a man be a good man—a faithful man—he must also be able to teach others, and instruct them in the saving truths of the gospel. No man can impart to others what he does not possess himself—can teach others what he does not know. Admitting the most that can be claimed for the aid of the divine Spirit, it must be admitted that in this as well as in other things, God requires us to employ the talents that he has given us, and he does not directly impart to us knowledge which may be obtained by diligent study and research. If men would be ministers of the gospel, they must qualify themselves by proper application and study for the duties of the sacred office. They must be able to teach others, as the result of having learned themselves. From a child Timothy had known the holy Scriptures, and he had no doubt strictly observed the requirement of the apostle, and given attention to reading and study. But even knowledge is not enough. To this must be added faithfulness. Ministers, above all others, should be faithful men. Not only the interests of time, but the interests of eternity—the salvation of souls—depend upon their labors. By faithfulness they may honor the Master, advance the interests of his cause, and save their own souls and them that hear them. But if they are unfaithful, and bury their talents, or neglect or refuse to labor faithfully in the vineyard of the Master, and the blood of souls is found in their skirts, how fearful their responsibility! We need competent and faithful men in the ministry. The harvest is great and the laborers are few. Let the church pray the Lord of the harvest to send forth more laborers into his harvest.—Methodist Recorder. The Tactful Spirit in Christian Work
The methods we employ in the attempt to reach and aid those in whose welfare we are interested, have much to do with our success. Expenditure of time and strength is not a test of the worth of service. The teacher who thoughtfully seeks to come into sympathetic relation with the child, and studies, with patient solicitude, to discover the way of access to mind and soul, has found one of the great secrets of helpful influence. In Christian work, the touch of the heart must be guided by a wise consideration of time, person, and circumstances, that is always loyal to the truth. The tactful spirit is indeed a savor of life. "Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing."—Sel. Chosen in the Furnace of Affliction
CHOSEN in the furnace of affliction, the people of God are a sorrowing people. Chastisement is their badge of sonship, and great tribulation their appointed discipline. The pilgrim's pathway has been sprinkled with tears, and from the cradle to the grave his life is one continual struggle. With the poet he can truly say, "No tranquil joys on earth I know;" with the psalmist, "My tears have been my meat day and night." "You'll not forget your mother's words to you, Jimmy." "No, I won't, Aunt Ruth." "What were they, my boy?" "Never to go to sleep without saying my prayers, and to read my Bible whenever I have a chance." "Don't let her words slip away from you, Jimmy, and don't let folks make you feel ashamed of doing what is right. It's easy enough at home where you've always been encouraged, but you'll find it far different when you get amongst folks who don't think as you've been taught to think. And don't you let 'em laugh you out of doing your duty." With the remembrance of his mother's last words and her newly made grave, Jim thought there was little danger of his failing to keep her words in mind. He was going away from everything he called home and friends, to work in a large factory town, and was fully resolved in his own mind to be steadfast in the performance of his Christian duties. He fully expected to meet with many who might ridicule him, but felt quite sure that he would take a manly stand against it and never yield a jot of his firmly fixed principles. He found work in a noisy room full of whirling, humming machinery, which at first made him dizzy, in a great mill in which were hundreds of boys, the most of them older and a few younger than himself. They took but little notice of him during the hours of work or at the long table in the boarding-house where he took his meals, for everybody seemed too hungry to spend any time in talking. But at night, when the tired workers sought their place of rest, Jim found himself in a large room which he was to share with a number of boys of various ages. Rough jokes and loud talk and laughter were going on all about him, led on by one who seemed older than any of the others, a young man whom they called Van. The boy from the country felt a little more in awe of him than of any one else. And now he felt his courage melting away like snow before the sun of an August day. How could he kneel down and pray before this careless crowd? He could easily tell as he looked from one face to another and listened to coarse remarks, with here and there an oath, that not one of those about him could be in the least degree in sympathy with all he had been taught to hold most dear and sacred. It was a very trying position for a boy to be placed in, but if poor Jim had come out of it with triumph, we may be sure he would have rejoiced over it all his life. It may be that his heavenly Master, looking down in tender kindness upon the weak ones of his fold, had seen that our boy needed to be shown how weak were his best resolves. "How can I?" he said to himself in great perplexity. "If I kneel down now these boys will never let me alone about it. And any way" (how carefully the evil one watches at the door of our poor hearts to slip in his crafty suggestions!) "it's no time to pray in all this noise. It wouldn't do me a bit of good." "Come, youngster," shouted Van, as he sat on the side of his bed, hoping they would soon be quiet and put out the light, "ain't you goin' to turn in?" "Yes," said Jim hesitatingly. "What you waitin' for?" Van eyed him curiously. "Nothing." Jim undressed himself and lay down, feeling more wretched and lonely than he had even by the side of his mother's grave. When all was quiet, he got up and prayed, but lay down again feeling that he had placed a distance between himself and the Saviour whom he had failed in confessing before men. When the next night came, he wished he had begun right the night before, for it seemed harder than it had seemed then. But he knelt down as before in the dark after being quite certain that all those about him were sleeping. Sunday came and he found his way alone to a little church in which he listened to words which seemed to carry him back to the days when it had never been so hard to do right. He had almost begun to excuse himself, but as he now listened his cheek reddened with shame at the thought of his cowardice. Taking his Bible in his pocket, he took a long walk in the afternoon, not stopping until the green grass was beneath his feet, grand old forest trees arching above his head, and no sound in his ears except the whispering of the soft wind and the song of the birds among the branches. Here he settled the matter for life with his own conscience. With tears of sincere repentance he laid his burden before the mercy-seat, exchanging it for the burden of earnest resolution manfully to fight the good fight of faith, and feeling sure he would never find it so heavy to carry as the other had been. That night he drew near the tallow candle which lighted the room, and took out his Bible. There was a hush as keen eyes followed his movements, for the sight of any book among them was a novelty. Then a hum arose as one or two peeped over his shoulder. "Hello, boys, here's a saint among us!" "Hi! a preacher. Give us a text, parson." "Can't you let a fellow read, boys?" said Jim, good-naturedly, as hands were held before his face and his book was rudely jerked. "This is a free country, you know." Stockings were rolled up and flung into his face. Shoes followed, amid a hubbub which grew and increased, and his light was thrown over and put out just as he had caught sight of the dreaded Van coming towards him. "Quit this fuss, all of you," said Van, angrily relighting the candle. "What you up to any way?" "It's the parson's doin's. He's gettin' ready to preach. Make ready, boys." "You're that sort of a chap, are you?" said Van, looking at the book. "And you've been getting up these nights to pray, ain't you?" "Yes," said Jim, in a low voice. "I wasn't asleep. I used to be where they did that kind o' thing, and p'raps I'd a' done better if I'd a' stuck to it. Why did you wait till we was all asleep, hey?" Jim's only answer was in his reddening cheeks. Van sat down on a low bed near him and rested his chin on his hands. "Seems to me," he went on, "you Christian folks makes believe you've got the best master there is a-goin', don't you?" "Yes," said Jim; "and it's true." "And that he's a-goin' to stand your friend all your life and never go back on you, and no matter what other folks does he'll stick like a burr; and no matter how mean you treat him, he's ready to shake hands and forget it all the moment you're ready to turn 'round and begin again, hey?" "And that one o' these days he's a-goin' to take you to his own house and keep you there, and give you all you want, and never turn you out, and that he couldn't do all this till he'd died for you. You see I've heard 'em talk it all over. Is that the kind o' thing you believe in?" "Well, then," Van gave a stamp with his foot to emphasize his words, and spoke slowly, "if anybody was a-goin' to do all that for me, I'd think I was the meanest, sneakedest, cowardliest cur that ever breathed the breath o' life if I wasn't ready to stand up true and honest for him, instid o' crawlin' 'round in the dark when I wanted to have a word with him. What you think o' that, now?" If Jim's cheeks had tingled before, how they burned now in shame at the criticisms of the rough fellow from whom he had feared things so very different. He looked humbly up at Van. "If you know so much about him, why don't you take him for your master?" he ventured to ask. "Why," said Van, with a keen but a good-natured look at his questioner, "I'd rather not do it at all, you see, than do it and then be afraid to own him." Poor Jim felt that his lesson was a very bitter one, as he crept into bed with the fear in his heart that the course he had taken would always stand in the way of any good which he might try to do to these boys. "Look a-here, now, all of you," said Van, raising his voice, "you let this chap alone, or you'll settle it with me. Keep it up, Jim. A bad beginning makes a good endin', you know." This gave Jim a little courage to mix with his firm resolve to wipe out as far as lay in his power the reproach which he had cast on his best friend. Quietly he stood his ground; in time he was able, as Van and others came to inquire more of what was in the Bible he loved, to lead others in the way of life.—New York Observer. The Home Circle.
By Miss A. C. Scammell
O FRIEND, if you would only share with me
Your cup of joy that never yet was full,
If you would only break with me your bread,
Nor large, nor light enough to fill your soul,
I think your half-filled cup would soon o'erflow,
Sweet, leavened loaves your scanty food would grow. For, if I had a well-spring bubbling up,
I still should thirst for drops that you could give;
My heart would ache with all its weight of joy,
Could I not give to you and see you live
A fuller, richer life. 'Tis our great need,
This interchange of thought, and word, and deed. Even had I only dregs to give to you,
And had you only tears to give to me,
We need each other's bitterness of grief,
To gauge our blessings and less selfish be,
To grow more Christ-like as we learn to weep,
O'er others' buried joys fond vigils keep. We say, "Our Father"—let us live it more;
God means you as his messenger to me;
He bids me be his minister to you;
Not cheerfully obey? I cannot see
Another way our lives may be complete,
Rounded and ripe, and for the Master meet.
—Miss A. C. Scammell, in Christian at Work. Hannah More had a good way of managing tale-bearers. It is said that when she was told anything derogatory to another her invariable reply was, "Come, we will go and ask if it be true." The effect was sometimes ludicrously painful. The tale-bearer was taken aback, stammered out a qualification, or begged that no notice be taken of the statement, but the good lady was inexorable; off she took the scandal-monger to the scandalized, to make inquiry and compare accounts. It is not likely that anybody ever a second time ventured to repeat a gossip story to Hannah More. One would think her method of treatment would be a sure cure for scandal.—Sel. The One-Man Power
By S. S. Times
It is a very common thing to protest against the one-man power, in political, or in social, or in religious communities; yet, after all, there is no other power in this world worth mentioning, except the one-man power. The real cause of trouble, when complaint is made of the one-man power, is not that it is one man, but that it is that man, whose power is felt and recognized, just now and here.—S. S. Times. "The last word" is the most dangerous of infernal machines, and the husband and wife should no more fight to get it than they would struggle for the possession of a lighted bomb-shell.—Douglas Jerrold. The Teacher’s Poor Lunch-Basket
By Editor
A WRITER in a school journal finds a cause for the frequent failure in health of lady teachers, in a poorly supplied lunch-basket. We heartily concur with the following observations on the subject:— “If many of our lady teachers are not unhealthy, it is due more to good luck than good management. They starve themselves. No wonder they lose their plumpness, and no wonder their blood is thin, eyes either droopy or vacant. It is almost a miracle that they are not tortured with tic-douloureux and neuralgia. Blotched faces, smoked complexions, and shriveled skin, should not be complained of, because they came in obedience to their bidding. All these are the result of starvation. “The interior of the average teacher's lunch-basket is a curiosity. There are a few cookies, a piece of pie, a slice of cake, a taste of cheese, and an apple or orange. There may be half a dozen pea-nuts and a few caramels, but this is only on special occasions, such as the day after having been at the opera. Anything would grow sickly, thin, and pimpled on such a diet. There is scarcely any nourishment in it, particularly of the kind necessary to repair nerve waste. There being no food for the teeth, they become full of bone-colored spots, which sooner or later turn black.” Prose and Poetry of Funerals.
They had the poor woman in a fifty-dollar coffin. The beautiful bunch of white roses in the one hand that was exposed did not conceal the marks of toil on her fingers, the calloused places, the distended joints, and the rough skin. Her iron-gray hair was neatly brushed down on the sides of her wrinkled forehead, and the black silk gown, folded so gracefully about her, was full of luster, new, and evidently expensive. There were ten hacks for friends of the family, and the hearse was driven by a man in livery, and had eight costly plumes on top. "How natural she looked, and what a lovely funeral," said a woman who had known the family. "How unnatural she looked, and what an inhuman thing that funeral was," said a male cynic who accompanied her. "Because. There was a good woman, a hard-working wife and mother, who never had a ride in a hack, whose fingers never pressed a flower, and who never wore silk. She didn't have any time and didn't have money. Now look at her. Flowers rare and sweet in her dead hands, lots of carriages following her hearse, and a costly shroud for a body which in life was deemed none too good for a thirty-cent worsted. A queer world this, which ignores fashion in life and falls a blind votary to it in death." She lay in her lonely coffin,
With her wasted fingers pressed
Over the fair, full roses
They had placed upon her breast;
And the head, that ached no longer,
And the pitiful, haggard face,
They had pillowed with gleaming satin,
Had shaded with costly lace.
Then I said—and my heart was heavy,
Recalling her life forlorn—
"Let none lay a rose on my bosom
Who have planted my life with thorn."
—Sel. THE advantages of pain are most obvious in case of injury. When a joint is sprained, the pain caused by movement in it compels the rest which is essential to repair. If there were no pain produced by motion, the parts would almost certainly be exercised, to the detriment and to the delay of the reparative processes. So too in broken bones, the agony caused by motion is such that a fixed position is maintained for weeks, with the result that the part, being kept in absolute rest, is thus permitted to recover as speedily as may be. The pale, bloodless creature who is the prey of facial neuralgia, or that pain in the intercostal nerves which is felt below the heart (and commonly referred to that organ), is compelled thereby to desist from exhausting efforts, and to seek in rest and good food that relief which is so imperatively demanded by the pain. Here pain is the protector of the system generally, and its expressive though inarticulate tones attract attention to the requirements of the organism. If not attended to, the call becomes more urgent in its reiterated and sharper demands. Headaches often alone can secure that rest which the brain requires; and the headache of exhaustion is as marked as is that pain at the top of the head which tells us that the brain is insufficiently supplied with blood. The headache after a day of exertion, excitement, or enjoyment, so commonly met with in ladies, secures a day of complete quiet, during which the system regains its tone.—Sel. The superintendent of the Massachusetts reformatory prison has compiled some startling and instructive statistics in regard to the drinking habits of the female prisoners in that institution. It appears that, out of 200 degraded women, 128 began their ruinous career with beer, 37 with whisky, 20 with wine, 8 with gin. Ninety-one began at the house of friends, 64 in saloons. Sixty-seven were Irish, 52 Irish-Americans, 7 negroes. Many of these women began drinking while employed at the mills, in the neighboring dram-shops. Beer had been the most common drink at first, but 181 had got to use whisky as their favorite, and some added chloroform to make the whisky hotter. One strong point brought out in the recitals of these wretched women was the sense of utter hopelessness as long as they were compelled to meet the ceaseless enticements of the bar-room and gin palace. The statements of these women showed what an appalling amount of tippling goes on even where there are no overt signs of actual intoxication. This tippling is practiced by great numbers of women. What many affect to think a mere harmless indulgence is the prolific source of the more developed evils. In a recent article in the London Lancet this noteworthy statement is made:— "Alongside of all the teetotalism that exists, there is an appalling amount of tippling that does not distinctly intoxicate, but saturates the principal organs and destroys them more quickly than would an occasional debauch."—N. Y. Observer. THERE was once an old monk walking through the forest with a little scholar by his side. The old man suddenly stopped and pointed to four plants close at hand. The first was beginning to peep above the ground; the second had rooted itself pretty well into the earth; the third was a small shrub; whilst the fourth and last was a full-sized tree. Then the old monk said to his young companion:— The youth easily pulled it up with his fingers. The youth obeyed, but not so easily. But the boy had to put forth all his strength, and use both arms, before he succeeded in uprooting it. “And now,” said the master, “try your hand upon the fourth.” But lo! the trunk of the tall tree (grasped in the arms of the youth) scarcely shook its leaves; and the little fellow found it impossible to tear its roots from the earth. Then the wise old monk explained to his scholar the meaning of the four trials. “This, my son, is just what happens with our passions. When they are young and weak, one may, by a little watchfulness over self, and the help of a little self-denial, easily tear them up; but if we let them cast their roots deep down into our souls, then no human power can uproot them, the almighty hand of the Creator alone can pluck them out. For this reason, my child, watch well over the first movements of your soul, and study by acts of virtue to keep your passions well in check.” "TREASURES of wickedness profit nothing; but righteousness delivereth from death." Prohibition is successful wherever it has been fairly tried. The Toronto Globe, some five years ago, sent a correspondent to Maine to investigate the result of the Maine law. His letters testified that although known drinkers could get liquor in some places, practically it had made drinking impossible to the great mass of the people, and that a generation was growing up in Maine who knew neither the sight nor taste nor smell of intoxicating beverages. The editor of the Toledo Blade (Petroleum V. Nasby) one year ago made personal investigation, with the same result. A member of the Standing Temperance Committee of the Presbyterian General Assembly, about the same time, sought for liquor on sale while on a visit to Maine and could find none. The following figures are repeated from their place in the article of the Rev. D. C. Babcock, in the Statesman, of February 5: "Kansas has a population of 1,000,000; Nebraska, of 453,000. Kansas, in 1884, paid $64,635.92, tax on spirits, and $27,672.43 on fermented liquors. Nebraska, during the same time, paid $1,364,850.38 on spirits, and $95,725.38 on fermented liquors. In Kansas the share of tax, for each man, woman and child, was 6½ cents on spirits, and 2¼ cents on fermented liquors. In Nebraska the share was $3.01 on spirits and 21 cents on fermented liquors. In Kansas the total tax on account of the grog-shop was 8¾ cents per head; in Nebraska it was $3.22 a head. Kansas is under prohibition. Nebraska is one of the highest of high license States." In other words, prohibition under all its disadvantages in Kansas has proved itself thirty-six times as effectual in restraining the traffic as high license has in Nebraska.—Christian Statesman. The Woman's Booth at New Orleans
By Editor
THE following is from Mrs. E. E. Kellogg's notes on the New Orleans Exposition, which appeared in the March number of Good Health:— "Prominent among the attractions of the Woman's Booth is the beautiful pavilion of the National W. C. T. U., with its comfortable seats and inviting fountain, where the weary and thirsty may find rest and a drink of pure water, the only place upon the grounds, we were told, where nature's beverage is obtainable, though beer gardens and ale stands are plentiful enough. [Since the above was written, the managers have insisted upon the removal of the fountain, and will not allow the ladies of the W. C. T. U. to supply water to visitors, even at their own expense, as the privilege of furnishing drinks has been sold for a liberal sum to beer and whisky venders, who are now in full possession, and virtually prohibit the use of any drink upon the ground, except such as they delight to dispense.]" —France is making overtures for peace with China. —The Bank of England covers three acres of ground. —President Cleveland was forty-eight years old March 18. —The British army, volunteer and regular, now numbers 392,200. —Attorney-General Gray, of Delaware, succeeds Bayard in the U. S. Senate. —The frost in the ground is nearly three feet deep in the vicinity of Boston. —James N. Berry, of Arkansas, succeeds Secretary Garland in the U. S. Senate. —Emperor William, of Germany, was eighty-eight years of age last Sunday. —The damage caused by the recent dynamite explosions in London was only $43,000. —There are about 100,000 Jews in New York City, and they have over thirty synagogues. —A large portion of the New Jersey capitol building was destroyed by fire March 21. —Reports from all parts of the country agree that a colder March never had existence. The suffering is terrible. —The ice in the Mississippi is nearly two feet thick, and is causing gorges and floods. —The schools in Montreal have been nearly stripped of pupils by an epidemic of measles. —March 16, the city of Panama was attacked by a party of 250 revolutionists, but they were repulsed. —The Samoan Parliament has passed an act for the annexation of the Samoan Islands to New Zealand. —The Oriental Hotel at Seattle, W. T., was burned March 19, and in it two men were burned to death. —St Joseph's Academy at Emmettsburg, Md., one of the finest Catholic structures in the country, was burned March 20. —Great damage has been done by a gorge and overflow of the Missouri River at Waverly, Mo., and about a dozen persons have perished. —The Supreme Court of Iowa has declared the Iowa prohibition law constitutional, and maintains the abatement of saloons as nuisances. —The president has nominated and the Senate has confirmed Joseph S. Miller, of West Virginia, to be Commissioner of Internal Revenue. —There are over fifty penitentiaries and 2,400 jails in the United States. They contain 50,000 criminals, and their estimated cost is $500,000,000. —March 6, an explosion occurred in a colliery in Austrian Silesia, where 147 men were at work. We have not learned whether any at all were rescued. —An Indian Industrial School is to be opened at Santa Fe, New Mexico, about the first of April. That city has given 100 acres of land to the school. —Near Reading, Pa., are several communities of Hungarians, who have aroused the hostility of the neighboring farmers by eating up all the dogs they can get hold of. —A freight train on the Pennsylvania Railroad was derailed near Carpenter's Station, March 16. A brakeman and four tramps were killed and twenty cars demolished. —Secretary Lamar has ordered the public sale of all horses, carriages and equipments which belong to the Interior Department, except those used for trucking purposes. —Further severe shocks of earthquake were felt last week at Granada, Loje, and Alhama, Spain. A number of houses in those places were destroyed, and several lives lost. —March 18, 217 miners were shut in by an explosion of fire-damp in a colliery at Camphausen, near Saarbruck, in Rhenish Prussia. Only seventeen were taken out alive. —A terrific explosion occurred in the Usworth Colliery at Sunderland, England, on the 3d inst. Twenty-seven persons were killed. The explosion is said to have been caused by fire-damp. —Iron bridges are sent from this country to Brazil now at the rate of about four a month. They are shipped in sections, and when they reach Brazil, are put up in place of wooden bridges on the Brazilian highways. —Large quantities of barbed wire for fencing purposes are now being shipped from this country to Brazil and to Central America. A short time ago a vessel sailed for Honduras with barbed wire as one-third of her cargo. —During December, January, and February, five persons died in Otsego Co, N. Y., who were one hundred years old and upward. All but one died of pneumonia, and all were in good health till a short time before death. —In the United States, during the month of February there were 202 fires, each causing a loss of $10,000 or over, the total loss being $10,000,000. For the two months of January and February the loss was $18,500,000. —A horse named "Old Turk," died at the county farm, Richmond County, N. Y., March 6, that was within a few days of being fifty years old. His color was bay when he was young, but turned white as snow in his old age. —The whisky-sellers of Iowa, are sending up a most doleful howl at the late decision of the Supreme Court. They claim that the enforcement of prohibition in that State has destroyed $16,000,000 of their property, and the industry by which thousands of laborers and their families were supported, has fallen to ruin under the hand of fanaticism. Good. We only wish the leaven would hasten to work its way to every part of the world, and starve out the vile traffic.207 —The Lick Trustees have received a letter from the East stating that a perfect crown-glass disc for the great telescope at Mount Hamilton, California, has at last been made. More than twenty of such attempts have hitherto proved unsuccessful. —Mrs. E. B. Crocker, of California, has given to the California Museum Association, a building and contents, valued at nearly $300,000, to be used for "science, art collections, and schools," provided the association will raise $100,000 for an endowment fund. —A petition against woman suffrage, numerously signed by the most fashionable and wealthy women of New York City, has been presented to the State Senate. "They told Senator Otis that it seemed to them that every year the women suffragists got more and more attention, simply because they are persistent, while the great mass of women have refrained from making themselves heard." —It has been discovered, says the Paper World, that in order to get the benefit of the low rate of postage in the United States, Canadian merchants and manufacturers who have a very large correspondence, send their letters in large bundles by express to the nearest post-office in the United States, where they are mailed at two-cent letter rate, whereas they would have to pay three cents if mailed in Canada.