Earlier text: SATURDAY OR SUNDAYThe Missionary.
By Daniel T. Bourdeau
I HAVE just closed a most pleasant two months' stay in Piedmont, Italy, laboring with my brother, Elder A. C. Bourdeau, Brother Geymet, and Brother Audelta—part of the time with each. My labors have been bestowed mainly at St. Germain, Villar Pellice, and Angrogna, and in villages situated in three different valleys among the mountains at quite a distance from each other. By the grace of God I have been enabled to give sixty-seven discourses, and twenty Bible-readings, ten of which were especially designed to help young laborers. I have made about one hundred and forty missionary visits; have met three attacks on the Sabbath truth, and have written one sermon for distribution. Three persons have decided to obey the truth at St. Germain, six at Villar Pellice, and two at Angrogna. I could remain but one week at St. Germain and twelve days at Angrogna, and more work must be done at these and at other points. In the last-named place there are several families who are strongly convicted of the truth. Twenty-five persons attended our last Sabbath meeting. Many shed tears when we left them to attend conference. The weather, too, was becoming cold, and what we would call in Vermont "a sudden change" or "cold snap," and a heavy snow-storm, made171 it necessary for me to seek the valleys. Our American readers may not, owing to the general idea that prevails as to the excellency of the Italian climate, understand what we sometimes have to meet here, in the region of the Alps. I am of the opinion that strong young men should be drilled for such fields, while the older hands could come in now and then as a re-enforcement. Fuel here (among the mountains and away from thoroughfares) is so scarce that people dwell in stables in the day-time and evenings during the winter season as a matter of economy, and keep warm through the natural heat of cattle, sheep, goats, and (sometimes) the swine. In these stables I have given more than one-half of my discourses, having no other means of ventilating than to open the door now and then to get a whiff of precious fresh air. But I felt I was not above my Master, who chose a stable as his birthplace. The cattle were more worthy of his presence than were the proud and ungrateful people whom he came to bless. God has greatly blessed me while here in Italy. It seemed at times as though my lungs were made of steel. Never have I enjoyed as much peace and as much of the blessing of God as in this field. If there is a place under heaven where missionary visits are needed and will be productive of good, it is this field. God has a dear people here who, behind a plain exterior and humble habits, have rare qualities, and who will yet scatter rays of light in other fields, as in former days of Vaudois purity. D. T. BOURDEAU. The Commentary.
By Mrs. E. G. White
NOTES ON THE INTERNATIONAL LESSON.
JOSEPH listened to his father's instructions, and feared the Lord. He was more obedient to his father's righteous teachings than any of his brethren. He treasured his instructions, and, with integrity of heart, loved to obey God. He was grieved at the wrong conduct of some of his brethren, and meekly entreated them to pursue a righteous course, and leave off their wicked acts. This only embittered them against them. His hatred of sin was such that he could not endure to see his brethren sinning against God. He laid the matter before his father, hoping that his authority might reform them. This exposure of their wrongs enraged his brethren against him. They had observed their father's strong love for Joseph, and were envious of him. Their envy grew into hatred, and finally to murder. THE angel of God instructed Joseph in dreams which he innocently related to his brethren: "For, behold, we were binding sheaves in the field, and lo, my sheaf arose, and also stood upright; and behold, your sheaves stood round about, and made obeisance to my sheaf. And his brethren said to him, Shalt thou indeed reign over us? or shalt thou indeed have dominion over us? And they hated him yet the more for his dreams, and for his words." "AND he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren, and said, Behold I have dreamed a dream more; and behold, the sun, and the moon, and the eleven stars made obeisance to me. And he told it to his father, and to his brethren, and his father rebuked him, and said unto him, What is this dream that thou hast dreamed? Shall I and thy mother and thy brethren indeed come to bow down ourselves to thee to the earth? And his brethren envied him; but his father observed the saying." JACOB appeared to regard the dreams of his son with indifference. But he had been often instructed by the Lord in dreams himself, and he believed that the Lord was teaching Joseph in the same manner. He reproved Joseph, that his true feelings might not be discovered by his envious brothers. JACOB's sons were shepherds, and fed their flocks where they could find the best pastures. In traveling from place to place with their cattle, they often wandered quite a distance from their father's house, so that they did not see their father for several months at a time. In his anxiety for them, he sent Joseph to see if they were all well. With the true interest of a brother, Joseph searched for his brethren where his father supposed he would find them, but they were not there. A certain man found him wandering in the field in search of his brethren, and directed him to Dothan. This was a long journey for Joseph. But he cheerfully performed it, because he loved his brethren, and also wished to relieve the anxiety of his father. But he was illy repaid for his love to them, and obedience to his father. "AND when they saw him afar off, even before he came near unto them, they conspired against him to slay him. And they said one to another, Behold, this dreamer cometh. Come now therefore, and let us slay him, and cast him into some pit; and we will say, Some evil beast hath devoured him; and we shall see what will become of his dreams. And Reuben heard it, and he delivered him out of their hands, and said, Let us not kill him. And Reuben said unto them, Shed no blood, but cast him into this pit that is in the wilderness, and lay no hand upon him; that he might rid him out of their hands, to deliver him to his father again." JOSEPH, unsuspicious of what was to befall him, approached his brethren with gladness of heart to greet them after his long, wearisome journey. His brothers rudely repulsed him. He told them his errand, but they answered him not. Joseph was alarmed at their angry looks. Fear took the place of joy, and he instinctively shrank with dread from their presence. They then took hold of him violently. They taunted him with the admonitions he had given them in the past, and accused him of relating his dreams to exalt himself above them in the mind of their father, that he might love him more than themselves. They accused him of hypocrisy. As they gave utterance to their envious feelings, Satan controlled their minds, and they had no sense of pity, and no feelings of love for their brother. They stripped him of his coat of many colors that he wore, which was a token of his father's love, and which had excited their envious feelings. JOSEPH was weary and hungry, yet they gave him neither rest nor food. "And they took him, and cast him into a pit; and the pit was empty, there was no water in it." As Judah thought of Joseph lying in the pit, suffering a lingering death by starvation, he was troubled. For a short time he, with others of his brethren, seemed to possess a Satanic frenzy. But after they had begun to accomplish their wicked purposes to the helpless, innocent Joseph, some of them were ill at ease. They did not feel that satisfaction they thought they should have to see Joseph perish. Judah was the first to express his feelings. He "said unto his brethren, What profit is it if we slay our brother, and conceal his blood? Come, and let us sell him to the Ishmaelites, and let not our hand be upon him; for he is our brother, and our flesh; and his brethren were content. Then there passed by Midianites, merchantmen; and they drew and lifted up Joseph out of the pit, and sold Joseph to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver; and they brought Joseph into Egypt." THE thought of being sold as a slave was more dreadful to Joseph than to die. He manifested the deepest anguish, and appealed172 first to one of his brethren, then to another, for compassion. Some of their hearts were moved with pity, but through fear of derision from the rest they kept silent. They all thought they had gone too far to repent of their acts; for Joseph might expose them to their father, and he would be exceedingly angry with them for their treatment of his much-loved Joseph. They steeled their hearts against his distress, and would not listen to his entreaties for his father's sake to let him go, but sold him as a slave. REUBEN went away from his brethren, that they might not learn his purpose in regard to Joseph. He advised them to put him in the pit, and designed to return and take him to his father. "And Reuben returned unto the pit, and, behold, Joseph was not in the pit; and he rent his clothes. And he returned unto his brethren, and said, The child is not; and I, whither shall I go?" His brethren told him that they had sold Joseph. "And they took Joseph's coat, and killed a kid of the goats, and dipped the coat in the blood; and they sent the coat of many colors, and they brought it to their father, and said, This have we found; know now whether it be thy son's coat or no." They caused their father intense anguish, as he pictured to himself the violent death his son must have suffered by being torn in pieces by wild beasts. His sons had not imagined that their father's grief would be so deep. All his children tried to comfort him, but he refused to refrain from his grief. He declared to his children that he would go down into his grave mourning. JOSEPH'S brethren flattered themselves that they were taking a sure course to prevent the fulfillment of Joseph's strange dreams. But the Lord controlled events, and caused the cruel course of Joseph's brethren to bring about the fulfillment of the dreams which they were laboring to frustrate. “OUT OF THE FIRE.”
By Mrs. A. W. Heald
IN the recent terrible catastrophe near Hartford, Vt., it would seem that all circumstances combined to add horror to the occasion. It was in the dead of night that the frightful plunge was made from the bridge to the frozen river full fifty feet below, and the train with its precious freight of human life lay a crushed and shapeless wreck. One who was rescued with broken limbs said: “Following the terrible noise of the crash came one instant of dead silence, and then arose most agonizing cries from wounded and dying. Should I live a thousand years I can never forget that awful moment.” Almost immediately the whole mass was enveloped in flames. The scene seems too fearful to contemplate. Let the charred and blackened remains of thirty-five victims, and as many more maimed or wounded, tell the sad tale. It is most affecting to read of the almost superhuman exertions made by those escaped from the wreck, towards rescuing others less fortunate. Men almost destitute of clothing, with bare feet, bruised, bleeding, and freezing, worked with frantic eagerness to extricate perishing victims, until, faint from exhaustion and driven back by the scorching flames, they were obliged to desist and drag themselves away to a place of shelter. But this event, appalling though it is, must sink into comparative insignificance when that great catastrophe, the dreadful day of God’s wrath, shall burst upon a guilty world; when men shall call on the mountains and rocks, “Fall on us, and hide us . . . from the wrath of the Lamb;” when “the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also and the works that are therein shall be burned up.” 2 Pet. 3:10. We believe that day is close at hand, but thanks be to our God, there are some among us who, “according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness;” but are we using all our powers to rescue the ungodly from a dreadful doom, and point them to the Lamb of God who alone can save from eternal death? Perhaps we may say we have warned them, but is that enough? Let us remember righteous Abraham pleading with God for guilty Sodom. Remember also how the heavenly messengers sent to rescue Lot “laid hold upon his hand . . . and they brought him forth, and set him without the city,” lest he should be consumed. We are admonished in Jude 22, 23, “Of some have compassion, making a difference; and others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.” Oh, may God help us to arouse from our sinful indifference, lest in that dread day we hear his voice saying to us, as to guilty Cain, “Where is thy brother?” A NOVEL method has been adopted by the Century Company for preserving the sheets of their great dictionary. Over 25,000 sheets of "copy" have thus far been prepared, and how to insure them from any possible contingency, as in the case of fire, was the problem. It is necessary to keep this large mass of manuscript in the printing office for frequent consultation. But if it were destroyed, the loss would be irreparable. It was proposed to insure the "copy" for $150,000, but the insurance money would not have replaced the loss. Finally photography was suggested, and the idea has been successfully carried out. Each sheet of "copy" which is 8x12 inches in size, has been photographed and reduced to a size measuring only 1 3/4x2 inches. All the words can be read with a magnifying glass. The reduction is for convenience in storage and handling. The negatives are preserved, and173the entire 25,000 would hardly more than fill a large bureau drawer. These negatives can be enlarged to any size which may be convenient. Should the manuscript now come to grief, these negatives would furnish a ready means of reproducing it in a very short time, and the cost for the whole 25,000 will not exceed $300.—Selected. AN UNSATISFACTORY EFFORT.
By Mary E. Wilkins
"ALLIE won't get any, there's no sense in her going. Why, she went berrying a dozen times last year, and she never got the bottom of her pail covered once." "I will, too, now you keep still, Mabel," said Allie. "I'll pick as many as you, see if I don't." "Now, children, if you are not sweeter-tempered toward each other, you shall not go at all," said Mrs. Blakesly, coming out on the piazza, where the children were assembled with their pails all ready to start. There were two little girls from the neighborhood, Allie and Mabel Blakesly and little Josie. Josie was only eight and had never been berrying before. Her little fat face and her bright black eyes were fairly radiant with delight. "O mamma, I didn't mean anything," said Mabel, who was really a good-natured girl. "I was only joking." "You wouldn't like to be joked," said Allie, in an injured way. "Well, I couldn't help it. It was funny the way she went berrying. Some of the time she ate her berries, and some of the time she sat under a tree and rested, and, if she didn't do anything else, she spilled them." "I think you're too bad," said Allie, half laughing herself. "Well, I won't say another word. Come on." Allie, in her old gingham and her old hat, marched along with the others. She did not talk as much as usual. She was thinking. By the time they reached the berry pasture, she was fired with resolution. She would fill her pail full to the brim this time; they should see. Allie was a slow-motioned, dreamy little girl. She was not deft with her fingers. If she worked steadily, it was long before she could get a task done, and it was very hard for her to work steadily. To-day, in spite of her firm resolve, it was very difficult for her to pick five minutes without stopping and staring lazily at the blue sky through the tall bushes, or at her busy companions. As Mabel had said, she ate a good many berries, too, in an abstracted way. Poor little Allie really lacked sadly the power of concentration, but the others knew nothing about that. They only laughed at her good-naturedly because she was so slow about picking berries. To-day, it seemed to Allie herself that she had never worked with such feverish speed. When it was time to go home, and her pail was only two-third's full, she could not understand it. She peeped furtively at the others, keeping hers out of sight. They were all full, even little Josie's, though hers was much smaller than the rest. She had turned out an apt little picker. She was close beside Allie, indeed she had picked beside her all the afternoon. She felt that she was more of a chum; the other girls were a little older. When her pail was full, she held it up to Allie with rapture. Mabel was singing out across the pasture that it was time to go home. Allie looked at the little pail brimful of berries, and a great temptation seized her. She looked at Josie's pail, then at her own. If about half of Josie's berries were turned into her pail, it would fill it full. Allie hesitated. Could she? "It would be so mean," she told herself. "Come," called Mabel impatiently. Josie started. "Wait a minute," whispered Allie. "Look here, Josie, I want to tell you something." Allie blushed before her little sister. "See here, Josie, if you'll give me enough of your berries to fill up my pail, I'll give you Miss Prim." Miss Prim was a doll, which Josie had especially admired. The poor little thing hesitated, and looked wistfully at her berries; she had so counted on showing them, and being praised. Then she thought of Miss Prim, who was dressed in black silk and wore a white lace handkerchief around her neck, and consented. Allie's pail was filled to the brim, and she trudged soberly home with hers half full. She had promised faithfully not to tell. "Allie's got her pail full after all, mamma," Mabel said, when they got home, "and I do feel so mortified because I laughed at her. They are lovely ones, too. I do believe they're better than mine." Everybody exclaimed over Allie's berries. She did not take much pleasure in their praise, however. She felt guilty, and she did not dare to look at Josie. The poor little girl stood by with her half pailful, looking rather pitiful. Even Miss Prim could hardly console her. They were very kind to her about her berries; they thought she had done wonderfully for the first time. But she kept thinking, "What would they say if they knew how many I really picked?" She felt hurt at Allie's depriving her of her first little hard-earned glory, and wondered innocently how she could. But she faithfully kept her promise not to tell. They had berries and milk for tea, but Allie did not eat any. She was growing uneasy. She had passed over Miss Prim slyly to Josie, but that had not made matters any better with herself. The meanness and deceit of which she had been guilty kept standing out blacker and blacker. It was a long time before she could get to sleep that night. At last she made a resolution which pacified her a little, and fell asleep on it. She would not eat another berry that season. She was extremely fond of berries, too. She kept her resolution to the great wonderment of everybody. They could not imagine what had turned Allie against berries. She even refused berry pie, like a sincere but mistaken little martyr. She did more than this to satisfy her conscience. They went berrying again, and she assisted Josie to fill a larger pail, and went home with hers half empty. But that made matters no better. Honest little Josie told at once that Allie had helped her; she never even dreamed of taking credit which did not belong to her. Allie looked so black to herself beside Josie! Her self-imposed penances did not seem to whiten her at all. Still she went on with them. One day there was a beautiful berry pudding for dinner, and she would not take any. Her mother laid down the spoon, and stared at her. "What is the reason you act so about eating berries, Allie?" said she. "I—don't care for them," Allie faltered. "Why not, have they made you sick?" "No, mamma." She was almost crying. Her mother said nothing more. After dinner, when her mother had gone into the sitting-room, Allie followed her. She stood looking meditatively out of the window for a minute, then she began. "I want you to tell me something. If—anybody does anything wrong, is there anything that can make up for not telling of it?" "No, Allie, I don't think so." "Suppose—anybody kept on being real good—for a thousand years, wouldn't they feel any—easier then?" "Then I shan't try it any longer—I didn't pick all the berries. I filled the pail up with Josie's, and made her promise not to tell." "What?" It took considerable explanation before Mrs. Blakesly understood. "I suppose I ought to tell Mabel and papa, and the other girls," said Allie, with a pale, determined look. "I suppose I had. I'll go right and tell Mabel now, then I'll go and tell the girls, and I'll tell papa when he comes home." That night, when passed her saucer of berries, Allie took it with a happy, humble look. Never had they tasted so good before. "Mamma," she said, in her slow, reflective way, when she was being tucked up in bed that night, "how very silly it is for anybody to try and punish themselves, when it's a great deal harder than God's way, and doesn't do any good either."—Mary E. Wilkins, in Congregationalist. The Home Circle.
By F. J. D.
WHEN the tasks of the day are ended,
And work is folded away,
I sit by the window and study
A picture over the way. In a room with undrawn curtains
A mother comes every night,
And sits with a dimpled baby,
In the softly flickering light. The little one's chubby fingers
Wander over her face,
And it smiles, and cooes, and dances,
With a sweet, unconscious grace. I know the mother is saying
Something tender and good,
By the way in which she caresses
This atom of babyhood. Then, as the twilight deepens,
The golden head sinks to rest,
And a beautiful face bends over
The sleeping child on her breast; And my own sad heart is throbbing,
Yearning with sudden pain,
For a touch of the dainty fingers
I never shall clasp again. But I know the time is coming,
At the end of earth's eventide,
When hushed will be every longing,
And mother-love satisfied. So now I sit by the window,
And take what comfort I may,
Watching the dear little stranger
In the firelight over the way.
—F. J. D., in Christian Union. A GREAT deal of eloquence is wasted in attempting to show the utility of the "pure cheap wines of France." The fact is, a pure cheap wine is a rara avis which the common people on the further Celtic side of the English Channel seldom see in these days. During this last summer a gentleman of American birth, but living in Paris, collected ten specimens of vin ordinaire, or the red wine, from nearly as many different shops, and had them tested by a competent chemist, with the result of finding that only one specimen of all the ten had a single drop of grape juice in it. All the other nine had been manufactured of various drugs and sold for wine. To this may be added the testimony of a German physician, who said that out of 440 specimens of Bordeaux wines which had been analyzed, only 22 contained the ingredients belonging to real wine. The reason of this lies primarily in the fact that the phylloxera has been fearfully destructive of late years in the southern part of France, and secondly in the fact that the demand is ever increasing, while the supply is decreasing. In no trade is the liability to fraud so great as in that of wines. Moral: If you don't relish being cheated, let them alone.—Selected. "MOTHER," a little child once said, "Mother, how old must I be before I can be a Christian?" And the wise mother answered, "How old will you have to be, darling, before you can love me?" "Why, mother, I always loved you. I do now, and I always shall," and she kissed her mother; "but you have not told me yet how old I shall have to be?" The mother made answer with another question: "How old must you be before you can trust yourself wholly to me and my care?" "I always did," she answered, and kissed her mother again; "but tell me what I want to know," and she climbed into her mother's lap and put her arms about her neck. The mother asked again: "How old will you have to be before you can do what I want you to do?" Then the child whispered, half guessing what her mother meant: "I can now, without growing any older." Then her mother said: "You can be a Christian now, my darling, without waiting to be older. All you have to do is to love and trust and try to please the One who says, 'Let the little ones come unto me.' Don't you want to begin now?" The child whispered, "Yes." Then they both knelt down, and the mother prayed, and in her prayer she gave to Christ her little one who wanted to be his.—Selected. THE good housekeeper shows her wisdom by the well-being of the inmates of her home, physically first, then mentally and morally. She knows that home cannot be kept worthy and happy without effort. She studies the temperament of each member of the family, and furnishes him or her with the food needed. The sanguine and full-blooded require one kind, the nervous and wiry another. Good taste rules the serving of the viands, but the viands are first selected to build up muscle and nourish brain, not to pamper and enervate. Otherwise energy, capacity, and integrity are weakened, and the power to do good work has gone. It is related by a gentleman who had an appointment to breakfast with the late A. T. Stewart, that the butler placed before them both an elaborate bill of fare. The visitor selected a list of rare dishes, and was quite abashed when Mr. Stewart said, "Bring my usual breakfast, oatmeal and boiled eggs." He then explained to his friend that he found simple food a necessity to him; otherwise he could not think clearly. That unobscured brain applied to nobler ends would have won higher results, but the principle remains the same.—Good Housekeeping. A young lady had gone out for a walk, but forgotten to take her purse with her. Presently she met a little girl with a basket on her arm, a wee, pale, care-worn creature. "Please, miss, will you buy something from my basket?" said the girl, showing a variety of book-marks, match-cases, needles, books, etc. "I am sorry I can't buy anything to-day," said the young lady; I haven't any money with me. Your things look very pretty." She stopped a moment and spoke a few kind words to the little girl, and then, as she passed, she said again, "I am very sorry I can't buy anything from you to-day." "Oh, miss," said the little girl, "you've done me just as much good as if you had. Most persons that I meet say, 'Get away with you!' but you have spoken kindly to me, and I feel a heap better." That was considering the poor. How little it costs to speak kind words, and how much they are worth. If we have nothing else to give, let us at least give love and sympathy.—Star and Crown. A PHOTOGRAPH of a section of the sky has been taken at the Paris Observatory, some five degrees square, which shows 3,000 stars on a ten-inch square plate. There are distinctly seen on the plate stars of the fourteenth and fifteenth magnitude. If this portion of the sky is fairly represented, the number of stars visible, to the fourteenth magnitude inclusive, must be more than 20,000,000.—Selected. Without God, Without Everything
A MAN without God is without everything. Health and Temperance.
By Nettie C. Hall, M. D.
A HEALTH TALK IN THE NURSERY.
HEALTH and temperance, which in its broadest sense is the law of health, needs to be taught from the cradle. When my little four-year-old boy discovered the veins in my hands, I was obliged to lay down my pen, and give a plausible answer before his childish curiosity would be satisfied. On being told they were little rivers carrying blood, an exploration of his own chubby hands followed, with the delightful discovery that he, too, had those "little rivers." Of course a volley of questions were fired at me in quick succession, the first of which was, "What is blood made of?" "What we eat." "What do the little rivers carry what I eat to my hands for?" "To make them grow." "Does everything we eat make our hands grow?" In that way he soon learned that some kinds of food furnish better building material for his bodily house than other kinds, and afterwards, when inclined to eat something that was not suited to his child's stomach, I had no difficulty in inducing him to deny himself, when reminded of the work of the "little rivers." He does not want tea and coffee, because in our talks he has learned that they hurry the nerve builders, but is a staunch friend of milk and brown bread, and takes great interest in his food, and by this means is learning to have power over his appetite, and to exercise self-control. On discovering a picture of a man drinking beer, his first question was, "Does beer make my house grow?" On being told that the alcohol of the beer drank up the water in the "little rivers," and injured them, he voluntarily pledged himself against intoxicants, because he is inspired with an ambition to possess a fine bodily tenement. His delight is unbounded, if, when taking a bath, he discovers in some part of his body a vein heretofore unknown to him. I consider that here is foundation for a desire to make his body a splendid creature, with every nerve steady, and every muscle trained to do his bidding. His imagination makes the wonderful little builders very real, and he will not intentionally retard their progress. He is willing to retire early because his house is being built more rapidly while sleeping, and the very best work is done the first half of the night. We have even gone a step higher in our little talk, and learned to reverence the Creator of such a wonderful building, and that it is a sin to abuse a house so costly and beautiful, because it is God's workmanship. And all this came about without "cramming" his mind. The questions naturally came, at intervals, even after I had forgotten our previous talk, and it was better to give the little philosopher a reasonable, satisfying answer. He is a child of only ordinary intellect, so I believe every fact and law of physical life can be taught the child very early, and physiology become a fairy tale to the imaginative child, and they are all such. Every woman, for this reason, if no other, should at once enlist in the department of hygiene. You owe it not only to yourself and community, but most surely to your children, whose first years are spent entirely with you, and at a time, too, when lasting impressions are made; the early impressions enter into the solid masonry upon which manhood is built. Some one has likened the knowledge acquired in maturity to paint and whitewash.—Nettie C. Hall, M. D. Men Enter Saloons Respectable
By Justice Grove
MEN go into saloons respectable, and come out felons.—Justice Grove. Prohibition Results in Maine
The Hon. Neal Dow gives the results of prohibition in the State of Maine, in the following pithy sentences:— "Every distillery and brewery has been suppressed; there is not one remaining in the State. The liquor traffic has been reduced at least to one-twentieth of its former volume. In more than three-fourths of the State, containing more than three-fourths of our population, the traffic is practically unknown. All our rural districts, our smaller towns and villages, have been delivered from the curse of the saloons, where they were numerous and obtrusive in the old rum time." TOBACCO blindness is on the increase. It is of a peculiar kind. It occurs while the victim is in the act of emitting the smoke from his mouth. During this performance he becomes so blinded that he cannot see that he is blowing the smoke right into a lady's face.—Sel. —Last year 52,000 Protestant tracts were circulated in Greece. —Pope Leo is about to issue an encyclical against Socialism. —About one-third of the 100,000 Jews in this country are in New York. —One thousand carpenters and joiners in Berlin have recently petitioned the German Government to protect them against Sunday labor. —At Dresden, Germany, nearly a thousand glass workers have been discharged because of their refusal to labor on the first day of the week. —There are, it is said, over one hundred applicants for the pastorate of the Westminster Presbyterian Church of Minneapolis, Minn., whose pastor resigned a few weeks since. —Joseph Cook says that among "the educated and upper classes in Asia, hereditary misbelief, when given up, is more readily replaced by imported unbelief than by Christianity." —The Religious Tract Society of London, England, has had "Pilgrim's Progress" published in the Japanese language. This makes the eighty-first language into which this work has been translated. —A new church known as the Deutsche Christus Kirche, has been organized at Oshkosh, Wis. It is composed mostly of Knights of Labor who have withdrawn from the Lutheran communion. —The Christian Nation says: "We are rejoicing at the unmistakable signs pointing to the final enlistment of the whole Presbyterian family for the advocacy of the great principle of National Reform." —There are in the cities of New York, Boston, Baltimore, Chicago, Philadelphia, St. Louis, Milwaukee, and Cincinnati, 2,264 Roman Catholic priests. —A correspondent of the London Nonconformist says of religious freedom in Austria: "Not a tract or book must be given away. The Holy Scriptures cannot be freely sold by colporters. There can be no free preaching of the gospel with open doors in public halls or private houses. All that is allowed is family worship." —A Methodist preacher in Seabright, N. J., created a sensation a few days ago by publicly reading two ladies out of his church for dancing. When the notice was read from the pulpit many of the congregation got up and left the church. Many of the members who sustain the ladies are talking of forcing the parson to a resignation. —A Protestant minister writing from Rome says, "I am informed that already the Jesuits have managed so adroitly that they have got the controlling power in the Italian Government." And again: "It is said that the Italian Government is really at the mercy of the Jesuits; and the Roman liberators are alarmed at the present outlook." —The Christian at Work says: "It is reported that in return for the Pope's recent friendship Germany has consented to act as mediator between the Italian Government and the Vatican. The Vatican's proposal is that part of Rome, including 'Leonine City,' and a zone extending from the Vatican to the sea, by Civita Vecchia, shall become the absolute property of the Pope." —In obedience to a decree of the late Plenary Council at Baltimore, the Catholics have been taking up collections for the support of missions among the Indians and negroes of the United States. Commenting upon this, an Eastern paper says: "This means aggressive work, and the institution of effective missionary work by the Roman Catholic Church in this country with a view to winning them over to Roman Catholicism." —Speaking of the means of reaching the masses in city and country with the gospel, the Christian at Work says: "We suggest that be it city or country, the church has got to inaugurate house-to-house visitation. It has got to be done or city and country will travel devil-ward. And especially so as the Catholics are instituting parochial schools, inasmuch as it is already foreseen that sectarianism is not to find an open door to the public school-houses."