Earlier text: An Interesting LetterThe Heathen Perishing Daily
Rev. Mr. Gill, of India, makes the following calculation: There are more than 800,000,000 in the darkness of heathenism. If a generation pass away in thirty-three years, then the heathen are dying at the rate of 66,000 a day. If the infants are left out, we still have 30,000 perishing every twenty-four hours, or more than 1,000 every hour. If we have a missionary meeting that lasts a little over an hour and a half, 2,000 heathen persons, who were alive at its beginning, do not live till its close. For fourteen years the American Board of Foreign Missions had a missionary ship, The Morning Star, on the Pacific Ocean, sailing among the Micronesian Islands, and carrying missionaries and teachers from Christian lands to teach the natives. The ship is now too small, and there is a movement on foot to build a new one. The Congregational Sabbath-schools of this country propose to furnish the money to pay for the new vessel.—Ex. Luxuries Versus Foreign Missions
If the money expended for luxuries—the ornamental and that which caters to the appetite—were given for the furtherance of the foreign mission work, we would have millions for Asia and Africa where we have our thousands. Retrench we should, and here. Alas! must the conquest of these vast fields be retarded on account of our vanity and sensuality? Must pagan millions be lost because we cannot deny ourselves?—Sel. A Favorable Time for Missions
THERE never was a time so favorable for missionary effort as now. "TIME and tide wait for no man." True Education.
By George Henry Bell
TRUE education aims to develop a perfect manhood,—to give to the world the best specimens of humanity that can be produced. It contemplates growth and culture, rather than the mere acquirement of knowledge. The mind may become a storehouse of facts, and yet be powerless to arrange them properly, or to use them to advantage. The ability to think, to reason, to gain knowledge from daily observation and experience; to arrange and classify our thoughts; to trace effects to their cause, and causes to their effect; to put our knowledge to good use; to understand the lessons which God teaches in nature; to see in all his works the manifest tokens of his love; to realize that he is the source of all wisdom, the author of all good, the one in whom we live, and move, and have our being—this, surely, is better than memorizing needless rules, or tedious demonstrations. The most and best that our schools can do, is to rouse the mind to action, direct it to proper fields of thought, and teach it how to work. The mind, like the body, requires food and exercise. Food for the mind is anything that awakens thought; the continued action of the mind constitutes its exercise. We may say in general that the whole mind acts at once, yet it is well known that, while certain faculties are especially active, others are comparatively at rest. This fact is well illustrated by bodily exercise. In walking, fencing, writing, speaking, chopping, or rowing, the whole body takes some part, yet it is only certain organs that are brought into vigorous exercise. It is also well known that the organs most exercised are the ones that are most rapidly and perfectly developed; and that those which are disused, become weak. Just so it is with the mind. Now this being the case, it becomes important to bring all the faculties into harmonious action, in order that the mind may be symmetrical and well-balanced. In too many instances this principle is lost sight of. It is a very common thing to cultivate the memory to the great neglect of nearly every other faculty. Judgment and reason must be cultivated. The mind should be taught to classify, to arrange and combine, to analyze and explain. But the work should not stop here. The imagination should be cultivated, correct tastes should be formed, and judicious habits of thought acquired. In this way we are gradually led to the cultivation of the affections and the moral perceptions. These, in turn, lead to the development of the spiritual sense and the Christian graces. Faith in God, trust, thankfulness, devotion, are all of them results of education. Neither can bodily conditions and training be neglected. The brain, which is the organ of thought, is a part of the body, and on its healthiness depends the proper action of the mind. A disordered or weakened condition of the body affects the temper also, and causes moral obtuseness. In such an education as this the public school-teacher can have but a small part; for the work must begin in infancy and continue to middle-life. Yet, where the parents' work has been well done, the teacher should supplement it skillfully; and where the parents' work has been neglected, the teacher should do his best to make up the lack. The theory advanced in this article is not new; yet it must be admitted that very little has been done toward carrying out the theory. If the principles are true—and there can be no doubt of it—why not follow them in our practice? Although broad, they are simple and natural. In carrying them out, however, it will be necessary to depart widely from common custom. It will not be easy to get out of the old rut in which we have run so long, and none but those who are thoroughly convinced that a change is imperative, will be likely to make it.—G. H. Bell, in The True Educator. "John!" Thomas Belknap spoke in a firm, rather authoritative voice. It was evident that he anticipated some reluctance on the boy's part. John, a lad between twelve and thirteen years of age, was seated on the doorstep reading. A slight movement of the body indicated that he heard; but he did not make any response. "John!" This time the voice of Thomas Belknap was loud, sharp, and imperative. "Father," responded the boy, dropping the volume in his lap, and looking up with a slightly flushed but sullen face. "Didn't you hear me when I first spoke?" said Thomas Belknap, angrily. "Then why didn't you answer me? Always respond when you are spoken to. I'm tired of this ill-mannered, disrespectful way of yours." The boy stood up, looking now dogged as well as sullen. "Go and do what I tell you. Get your hat and jacket." The boy moved slowly, and with a very reluctant air, from the room. "Now don't be all day," Thomas Belknap called after him, "I'm in a hurry. Move briskly." How powerless the father's words died upon the air! The motions of John were not in the least quickened. He passed out into the passage and up the stairs, while the impatient Thomas Belknap could with difficulty restrain an impulse to follow after and hasten the sulky boy's movements with blows. He controlled himself, however, and resumed the perusal of his newspaper. Five, ten minutes passed, and John had not yet appeared to do the errand upon which his father designed to send him. Suddenly Thomas Belknap dropped his paper, and, going hastily to the bottom of the stairs, called out— "Didn't I tell you to hurry?" "I can't find my jacket." "You don't want to find it. Where did you lay it when you took it off last night?" "I don't know. I forget." "If you're not down here with your jacket on in one minute, I'll warm your shoulders well for you." Thomas Belknap was quite in earnest in this threat, a fact plainly apparent to John in the tone of his father's voice. The boy opened a closet, and, singularly enough, there hung his jacket in full view. At the expiration of the minute he was standing before his father with his jacket on and buttoned up to the chin. "Where is your hat?" asked Thomas Belknap. "I've looked everywhere." "Look again. There; what is that on the hat-rack, just under my coat?" The boy answered not, but walked moodily to the rack and took his hat therefrom. "Ready at last. I'm out of all patience with your slow movements and sulky manner. What do you stand there for, knitting your brows and pouting your lips?" The lad, thus angrily rated, made a feeble effort to throw a few rays of sunshine into his face. But the effort died fruitless. All was too dark, sullen, and rebellious within his bosom. "See here." Thomas Belknap still spoke in that peculiar tone of command which always stifles self-respect in the one to whom it is addressed. "Do you go down to Leslie's and tell him to send me a good claw-hammer and three pounds of eightpenny nails, and go quickly." The boy turned off without a word, and was slowly moving away, when his father said sharply:— John paused and looked back. "What did I tell you to do?" "Go get a claw-hammer and three pounds of eightpenny nails." "Very well. Why didn't you indicate in some way that you heard me? Haven't I already this morning read you a lecture about this very thing? Now go quickly; I'm in a hurry." For all this impatience and authority on the part of Thomas Belknap, John moved away at a snail's pace. As the farmer, in a state of considerable irritability, gazed after the boy he felt strongly tempted to call him back and give him a good flogging in order that he might clearly comprehend the fact of his being in earnest. "If that stubborn and incorrigible boy returns in half an hour it will be a wonder," muttered Thomas Belknap, as he came back into the sitting-room. "I wish I knew what to do with him. I never saw such a boy. He knows I'm in a hurry, and yet there he goes, creeping along like a tortoise. What is to be done with him, Aunt Mary?" Thomas Belknap turned as he spoke to an elderly lady with a mild, open face and clear, blue eyes. She was a valued relative, who was paying him a visit. Aunt Mary let her knitting rest in her lap, and turned her eyes upon the speaker. "What is to be done with that boy, Aunt Mary?" Thomas Belknap repeated his words. "I've tried everything with him." Aunt Mary paused, and seemed half in doubt whether it were best to give utterance to what was in her mind. "Tried what?" asked Thomas Belknap. "May I speak plainly?" said Aunt Mary. "To me? why yes! the plainer the better." "Have you tried a kind, affectionate, unimpassioned manner with the boy? Since I have been here I notice that you speak to him in a cold, authoritative tone. Under such treatment, some natures that soften quickly in the sunshine of affection grow hard and stubborn." The blood mounted to the cheeks and brow of Thomas Belknap. "Forgive me if I've spoken too plainly," said Aunt Mary. Thomas Belknap did not make any response for some time, but sat, with his eyes upon the floor, in hurried self-examination. "No, Aunt Mary; not too plainly," said he, as he looked at her with a sober face. "I needed that suggestion and thank you for it." "Mrs. Howitt has a line which beautifully expresses what I mean," said Aunt Mary, in her gentle, earnest way. "It is,
'For love hath readier will than fear.'" Ah! if we could all comprehend the wonderful power of love! It is the fire that melts, while fear only smites, the strokes hardening or breaking its unsightly fragments. John has many good qualities that ought to be made as active as possible. These, like goodly flowers growing in a carefully-tilled garden, will absorb the latent vitality in his mind, and thus leave nothing from which inherent evil tendencies can draw nutrition." Aunt Mary said no more, and Thomas Belknap's thoughts were soon busy with a new train of ideas. Time moved steadily on—nearly half an hour had elapsed, in which period John might have gone twice to Leslie's shop and returned, yet he was still absent. Thomas Belknap was particularly in want of the hammer and nails, and the delay chaffed him very considerably—the more particularly as it evidenced the indifference of his son in respect to his wishes and commands. Sometimes he would yield to a momentary blinding flush of anger and resolved to punish the boy severely the moment he could get his hands on him. But quickly would come in Aunt Mary's suggestion, and he would again resolve to try the power of kind words. He was also a good deal strengthened in his purpose by the fact that Aunt Mary's eyes would be upon him at the return of John. After her suggestion and his acknowledgment of its value, it would hardly do for him to let passion so rule him as to act in open violation of what was right—to wrong his son by unwise treatment, when he professed to desire only his good. The fact is, Thomas Belknap had already made the discovery that if he would govern his boy he must first govern himself. This was not an easy task, yet he felt that it must be done. "There comes that boy, now," said he, as he glanced forth and saw John coming homeward at a very deliberate pace. There was more of impatience in his tone of voice than he wished to betray to Aunt Mary, who let her beautiful eyes rest, for a moment or two, penetratingly upon him. The balancing power of that look was needed, and it performed its work. Soon after the loitering boy came in; he had a package of nails in his hand, which he reached, half indifferently, to his father. John started, with a half-frightened air. "Indeed, father, I forgot all about it!" said he, looking up with a flushed countenance, in which genuine regret was plainly visible. "I'm sorry," said Thomas Belknap, in a disappointed, but not angry or rebuking voice; "I've been waiting a long time for you to come back, and now I must go to the shop without nailing up that trellis for your mother's honeysuckle, as I promised her." The boy looked at his father a moment or two with an air of bewilderment and surprise, then he said earnestly:— "Just wait a little, father; I'll run down to the shop and get it for you in a minute; I'm very sorry that I forgot it." "Run, then," says Thomas Belknap, kindly.13 How fleetly the lad bounded away! His father gazed after him with an emotion of surprise not unmixed with pleasure. "Yes, yes," he murmured, half aloud, "Mrs. Howitt never uttered a wiser saying, 'For love hath readier will than fear.'" Quicker than even Aunt Mary, whose faith in kind words was very strong, had expected him, he returned with the hammer, a bright glow on his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes, that strongly contrasted with the utter want of interest displayed in his manner a little while before. "Thank you, my son," said Thomas Belknap, as he took the hammer; "I could not have asked a prompter service." He spoke very kindly and in a voice of approval. "And now, John," he added, with the manner of one who requests, rather than commands, "if you will go to Frank Willson's and tell him to come over and work for two or three days in our garden, you will oblige me. I was going to call there as I went to the shop this morning; but it is too late now." "Oh! I'll go, father—I'll go," replied the boy, cheerfully. "I'll run right over at once." "Do, if you please," said Thomas Belknap, now speaking from an impulse of real kindness; for a thorough change had come over his feelings. A grateful look was cast by John into his father's face and then he was off to do his errand. Thomas Belknap saw and understood the meaning of that look. "Yes, yes, yes"—thus he talked with himself as he took his way to the shop—"Aunt Mary and Mrs. Howitt are right. Love hath a readier will. I ought to have learned this lesson earlier. Ah! how much that is deformed in this self-willed boy might now be growing in beauty!"—Arthur's Magazine. GATHER them to your loving heart—
Cradle them on your breast;
They will soon enough leave your brooding care,
Soon enough mount youth's topmost stair—
Little ones in the nest. Fret not that the children's hearts are gay,
That their restless feet will run;
There may come a time, in the by and by,
When you'll sit in your lonely room and sigh
For the sound of childish fun. When you'll long for a repetition sweet
That sounded through each room,
Of "Mother, mother," the dear love-calls
That will echo long in silent halls,
And add to the stately gloom. There may come a time when you'll long to hear
The eager, boyish tread,
The tuneless whistle, the clear, shrill shout,
The busy bustle in and out,
And pattering overhead. When the boys and girls are all grown up,
And scattered far and wide,
Or gone to the undiscovered shore,
Where youth and age come nevermore,
You will miss them from your side. Then gather them close to your loving heart,
Cradle them on your breast;
They will soon enough leave your brooding care,
Soon enough mount youth's topmost stair,—
Little ones in the nest.
—Unknown. Fancy Work an Uncanny Thing.
By Eliza Archard
FANCY work is the small vice of the female sex. It is to women what smoking is to men. In some respects it is worse indeed, for man can read or write and smoke at the same time. Fancy work, on the contrary, is so absorbing as an intellectual exercise that it is not possible for a woman to make the Kensington stitch and do anything else, unless it be to gossip. In brief, we arraign female fancy work as a waster of time, a destroyer of eyesight and health, a deadener to all nobler ambitions, and a promoter of scandal besides. We shall prove it. Fancy work is an uncanny thing. There is some strange fascination in the miserable darning and knitting that blinds their eyes to the nobler achievements that lie all about them. In the summer hotels, and winter hotels, groups of fair young matrons sit, hour after hour, their bright eyes bent over some queer, fuzzy-looking, contemptible little stuff, as though the salvation of the world depended on banding the equator with a girdle of knot-fringe before tomorrow morning. Now they cover ghostly pillow-shams with weird chain-stitch. Now it is ric-rac, and again it is crazy quilts. At this point it may be remarked that of all contrivances that are ugly enough to scorch one's eye-balls, the crazy-quilt goes up head. Anon, the fancy-work madness drives them to the production of tapestry pictures that make your hair stand on end. Or may be it is "darned net." This is the head-fiend of fancy work. It is safe to say that on the average, darned net drives 1,000 American women a day to premature spectacles. "Pretty? Yes, it ought to be pretty. It nearly put my eyes out." She had made her little daughter a robe of this demonish, woman-killing fabric. Her eyes were red and swollen, her nerves were all unstrung so that she kept springing like a jumping-jack at every little sound. She had got herself in such a state over the pesky stuff that she hadn't slept for two nights. "I'm just ready to cry!" she said. No wonder. The time and labor she had spent on that execrable gown would have made her an accomplished student in microscopy, and not hurt her eyes either. Then she would have had a peep into the fairy land of science, and at least learned enough to make her a charming and entertaining companion for a month. And a month is a long time when it comes to entertaining anybody, especially one's husband. We arraign fancy work because it dwarfs women's intellects. It gives them just occupation enough to make them believe they are doing something. They sit and moon over their one, two, three cross-stitch till the practical interests of life fade from their mental horizon. They are the true hasheesh eaters. Fancy work is a genuine deadening drug, cheating ladies into a fool's paradise. While they delude themselves with thinking they are at work, they are doing absolutely nothing at all that is worth while. It is worse than nothing. It ought to be relegated wholly to very aged women, so old that they have lost all interest in active affairs, and have nothing to do but snooze through the days like placid old tabbies. "Aw—American women don't get out-doors enough to give them a decent complexion, you know," says the Englishman. Trimming is the wretch that is to blame. Show us a lively, healthy, practical, intelligent woman who is a confirmed trimming maker, and we will find you an honest politician.—Eliza Archard, in N. Y. World. BACKWARD and forward in her little rocking-chair went Alice Lee, now clasping her beautiful waxen doll to her bosom, and singing low, sweet lullabies; then smoothing its flaxen curls, patting its rosy cheeks, and whispering softly "I love you pretty dolly;" and anon casting wistful glances towards her mother, who sat in a bay window, busily writing. After what seemed to be a very long time to the little daughter, Mrs. Lee pushed aside the papers, and looking up, said pleasantly:— "I am through for to-day, Alice, you may now make all the noise you choose." Scarcely were the words uttered ere the little one had flown to her, and nestled her head on her loving heart, saying earnestly:— "I'm so glad! I wanted to love you so much, mamma." "Did you, darling?" And she clasped her tenderly. "I am very glad my Alice loves me so; but I fancy you were not very lonely while I wrote; you and dolly seemed to be having a happy time together." "Yes, we had, mamma; but I got tired after awhile of loving her." "Oh," because she never loves me back!" "And that is why you love me?" "That is one why, mamma; but not the first or the best." "And what is the first and best?" Why, mamma, don't you guess?" and the blue eyes grew very bright and earnest. "It's because you loved me when I was too little to love you back; that's why I love you so." "We love Him because He first loved us," whispered the mother; and fervently she thanked God for the little child-teacher. The Woodpile Test
By Oil City Derrick
If your wife is cross at meal-time, take an observation of the wood-pile. The woman who can go out in a storm of sleet and dig soggy wood out of the snow to cook her husband's dinner, and still wear a cheerful countenance and speak honeyed words, is more than human.—Oil City Derrick. Knowledge Must Be Applied
If ye know, happy are ye if ye do. Knowledge, if not applied, is like a lever without a fulcrum. It would be folly to harness a wild horse merely to have him roam the prairies. THE GREAT CONTROVERSY BETWEEN CHRIST AND SATAN.
This is a series of four volumes, covering the entire period from the creation and fall of man to his final redemption. Volume One is devoted to Old Testament history. It is not merely a narrative of the leading events in the lives of the patriarchs and prophets; but moral lessons are drawn therefrom, in such a way as to make the book practically useful to the men and women of to-day. Volume Two commences with the life and mission of John the Baptist, and considers the first advent of Christ, his life and mission, as manifested by his miracles and teachings, and the nature and necessity of his life-work. It closes with Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Volume Three takes up the subject at this point, and brings to view the most thrillingly interesting portion of Christ's earthly career—his betrayal, trial, crucifixion, and resurrection. It closes with a brief history of the early church, including the missionary labors of Peter and Paul. Volume Four (in press) contains a history of the church from that time to the end, closing with the coming of Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the establishment of the everlasting kingdom of Christ on earth. These books are not argumentative, but they throw a vast flood of light upon the sacred page. They are written in a clear, simple style, and are of absorbing interest to both young and old. They offer special encouragement and instruction to Christians; and there is nothing better to place in the hands of skeptics, to convince them of the truth of the Bible. 400 pp. Price per volume, $1.00. Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal. OUR COUNTRY'S FUTURE FORETOLD.
By Uriah Smith
THE UNITED STATES IN PROPHECY.
This is a full exposition of a portion of prophecy which applies to our own Government, showing the position the United States holds in prophecy, and the part it has to act in the closing scenes of time. Which is now attracting such general attention, is thoroughly canvassed, and abundant testimony is given to prove that it is fast coming to be the ALL-IMPORTANT QUESTION in this country. Dealing with our own land and applying to our own time. Of surpassing interest to every American reader. New edition; revised and enlarged. Cloth, 225 pp., 75cts. Paper covers, new edition, condensed, 186 pp., 25cts. Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal. THE SPIRIT OF GOD: ITS OFFICES AND MANIFESTATIONS TO THE END OF THE CHRISTIAN AGE.
By J. H. Waggoner
This is a brief but comprehensive argument on the solemn and important subject of the Spirit of God. Its chapters embrace the following heads: The Holy Spirit of Promise; The Power from on High; Circumcision of the Heart; The Unity of the Faith; The Law and the Testimony; Try the Spirits; The Great Commission; Gifts in the Reformation; In the Present Century; Spirit of Prophecy Restored. These are subjects of vital importance to all, and especially to those who are looking for the return of their Lord. Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal. HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION.
By J. H. Merle D'Aubigne
By J. H. Merle D'Aubigne. This book is indeed a standard in evangelical literature, and is so well and favorably known as to need no description; it is the most complete and impartial history of the Reformation extant; and certainly no one should need to be urged to seek all the information possible concerning the history of one of the greatest revolutions ever effected in human affairs. Bound in cloth, 5 vols. in one..............................................$1.50
Larger edition, illustrated....................................................... 4.00
Address, PACIFIC PRESS, Oakland, Cal. SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF PAUL.
In this book the history of Paul's life, from the time when he "made havoc" of the church until he was "offered up" as its chief representative, is traced in a clear and connected manner. Paul's allusions to himself in his epistles are connected with the record in the book of Acts in such a manner as to throw great light both on the epistles and the "Acts." But that which gives the book even greater value than its historical accuracy, is the lessons that are drawn from Paul's words, and the hardships which he endured, and their practical application to our own times. This is a marked feature of this work, and the instruction given in this way cannot be estimated in dollars and cents. 234 pp. Neatly bound in cloth, 80 cents. Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal.; Or, REVIEW AND HERALD, Battle Creek, Mich. —Ripe cherries were in the Sacramento market on the 22d ult.
—It is reported that a Buddhist temple is to be erected in Paris.
—The president of the Effingham, Ill., Bank has absconded with $40,000.
—The exodus from Quebec and vicinity is said to be alarming the officials.
—For the week ending April 19, there were landed in San Francisco, 990 immigrants.
—Reports from all parts of California are favorable for large grain and fruit crops.
—The Cuban authorities are arming laborers on the public roads against filibusters.
—Late news from the far East report fresh massacres of Christians in Laos, Southern Asia.
—Another flood is reported in Arkansas, owing to heavy rains, and much property was destroyed.
—Prime Minister Ferry says the time has come for a moderate revision of the French Constitution.
—It is stated that Indians of British Columbia have declared that no more steamers shall ascend the Nass River.
—The wife of a Jew peddler has been accused at Nashville, Tenn., of the murder of her husband to obtain his life insurance.271—High water in Lake Champlain, last week, caused heavy washouts on the Delaware and Hudson railway tracks, stopping all trains.
—From April 19 to 22, it is reported that 10,000 immigrants arrived at New York on sixteen vessels, with twelve more vessels on the way.
—Congressman Henley of California has introduced a bill providing for free postage on newspapers and periodicals. It ought to become a law.
—Northwestern Kansas experienced the heaviest snow-storm of the year on the 21st ult. Stock suffered severely, and railroad trains were blocked.
—By the falling of Central Pacific snowsheds near the summit of the Sierra Nevada, a few days ago, six Chinamen were killed and as many more wounded.
—A Boston dispatch says a leper named Charles Wilson has escaped from the Tewksbury almshouse, and the State is being overhauled by the authorities.
—The American Oak Leather Tannery, Cincinnati, the largest tannery in the world, was burned April 24, one department only being saved. The loss is estimated at $400,000.
—The Iowa State Register says that murder is one of the safest crimes to commit in that State. Over 200 murders have been committed in twenty years, and not one murderer hanged.
—While excavating in the City Park, New Orleans, recently, workmen exhumed a large brass cannon, bearing date of 1788. It is probably a relic of the old Spanish dominion in Louisiana.
—Captain Eads has returned from England, where he has succeeded in interesting capitalists in his Tehuantepec ship railway scheme. He is now confident of completing the track in five years.
—The “Curfew Ordinance” of this city has been revived by Mayor Henry’s orders, and all boys out after the sounding of the nine o’clock bell, without permission of their parents, will be locked up.
—The most severe rain-storm in the memory of any inhabitant prevailed in the vicinity of Macon, Miss., April 19. Great damage was done to crops; stock was drowned, and killed by lightning.
—Sir Edward Watkin, M. P., offers £1,000 toward the rescue of General Gordon. He asks the London papers to open a fund for this purpose, where, he says, £200,000 would be collected in a few hours.
—Stanley, the African explorer, proposes an expedition to travel from the Congo through the Soudan and Nubia to Egypt. This was a task contemplated by Gen. Gordon before he undertook the expedition to Khartoum.
—The news from Soudan represents a most tragical situation. Over 2,000 people at Shendy, many of them refugees from Khartoum, have been massacred by the rebels. General Gordon, it is said, considers himself abandoned by the English Government, and there is no surmising what the end will be.