"Alas! our souls are sad unto death at the sight of the extent of our misfortunes. New dispatches will soon inform you how many survivors are left of twenty-nine missionaries and seventeen native priests, of more than forty male teachers of religion, of one hundred and twenty students of Latin and theology, of four hundred and fifty native religious sisters, and of forty-one thousand Christians.

"In order that these almost incredible misfortunes may not be thought exaggerated, even by those who are ill-disposed, God has permitted that laymen in great number—officers and soldiers of the French post, officers and sailors of the war-ship moored in the harbor of Qui-nhon, the crew and passengers of the steamer which came to port August 5th—should witness the horrible sight of ten or twelve different centres of conflagration. There were as many fires as there were Christian settlements. These lighted up the horizon all along the shore for several miles. The officers, soldiers, and travellers were for the most part strangers, and in some cases indifferent to everything that concerns the missions. They have seen with their own eyes and with lively emotion the greatness of the disasters which have befallen us.... Missionaries and Christians, we have literally been deprived of everything: clothing, houses, rice, vestments for the celebration of the holy Mass and the administration of the sacraments, books; we are in need of everything. Scarcely one of us was able to save any part of his possessions. But that which has the most saddened us missionaries, is to have been forced to be present, down-hearted and powerless, during the ruin and extermination of our Christians. How many times have we repeated the words of Scripture: I saw the oppressions that are done under the sun, and the tears of the innocent, and they had no comforter: and they were not able to resist their violence, being destitute of help from any. And I praised the dead rather than the living. (Eccl. iv. 1-2.) Yes, happy are those among us who died before witnessing all these calamities, in comparison of which a typhoon, an inundation, even a pestilence, would seem only ordinary misfortunes."

The Messenger of the Sacred Heart.



Parnell's Strength.

Mr. Parnell will have eighty-six followers in the new Parliament. From biographical sketches of them the following facts have been gleaned:—Twenty-three have had some collegiate education; twenty-five have sat in previous Parliaments; nine of them are lawyers, six editors, four magistrates, four merchants, three physicians, two educational workers, two drapers, three tavern-keepers, four farmers, two grocers, one carpenter, one blacksmith, one florist, one watchmaker, one tailor, one dancing-saloon owner, and one manager of a dancing-school. There are also a brewer, an ex-Lord Mayor of Dublin, a Secretary to the Lord Mayor of Dublin, a Baronet, and a Knight. It appears that the members are mostly men of the middle classes, who labor in some profession or trade for a living. Only two men with titles are on the list. The plebeian calling and humble origin of so many of the new Irish members has thrown the English aristocrats into a frightful state of mind, and the landed gentry who are to be rubbed against by these mudsills in St. Stephen's have lashed themselves into a fury upon the subject. To add to the enormity of the offence, these men do not do business by wholesale, or on a large scale, but are mere humble tradesmen, publicans, and artisans. The grocers, for instance, are common green grocers, who wait on patrons with aprons tied about their waists, and the carpenter, blacksmith, tailor, and others, actually work with their hands! The Tories feel that evil days have fallen upon the land. They deplore the fact that the system of non-payment of members, which has so long kept poor men out of Parliament, has been broken down. They point out that if the Irish are allowed to pay their own members, and even to send to America for money for that purpose, the pernicious system will soon spread to England, and the House of Commons will be utterly debased. Some irritation against America is also expressed. Of course, the Tories say, they could expect nothing better from the Irish in America; but of those Americans who promoted or patronized the fund, they speak in terms of both sorrow and anger. The St. James's Gazette, after pointing out the plebeian character of the Parnellite members, says: "Are these capable to reproduce the ancient glories of Parliament? Shall they dominate the inheritors of the great names which have made Parliament illustrious?" The Radicals rather enjoy the situation. Many of them are taking up the cudgels in Ireland's behalf, in the hope that the Irish new-comers will unite with the British workingmen, who have been elected by the Radicals. There are about a dozen of such members elect. They include a mason, a glass-blower, a tailor, a boot-maker, and a laborer. The Radical papers urge the workingmen and self-made men, from both sides of the Irish Channel, to combine and beard the aristocrats in their hereditary den—the House of Commons.

Irish-American.



A Silly Threat.

The statement that English "Liberal" employers are about to discharge Irish workingmen throughout Great Britain, because they voted with Parnell, is ridiculous on its face, and is worthy only of the malignant genius of the persons who supply cable news to a portion of the American press. The same canard was started on the world's rounds immediately after the London explosions of a year ago. All this kind of nonsense is originated in the press rooms of London for the purpose of diminishing the Irish-American activity in the Irish cause. The originators are silly enough to believe that the Irish in the United States might stop aiding Mr. Parnell if they thought their kindred in England would be made to suffer by the agitation.

Great causes cannot consider the sufferings of individuals, or aggregations of individuals, in working out their objects. Whether a few suffer or whether millions suffer cuts no figure in a fight for principle, or for the greatest good of the greatest number. If mankind were constructed on that chicken-hearted basis, no great movement for the benefit of the human race could ever have succeeded. It was not pleasant for the American Revolutionists, most of whom were husbands and fathers, to be compelled to leave their families unprotected, and, in many cases exposed to the attacks of England's savage allies, for the purpose of joining the patriot ranks under the leadership of Washington.

When the soldiers of the French Republic rushed to arms, and defended France successfully against all Europe, during the last decade of the eighteenth century, they did not think of the privations of the bivouac, of the horrors of the battlefield, of the sorrow of their families, they thought only of France and of liberty.

In the War of the Rebellion millions of Union men sacrificed home, wife, children, all that could make life dear, for what they believed to be a cause superior to all domestic considerations. They died by hundreds of thousands, and, in too many cases, left their families destitute; but they saved the Union and thus preserved freedom, prosperity and happiness to the countless millions of America's future.

So is it with the cause of Ireland. Even should some English employers discharge thousands of their Irish workmen, which is highly improbable, that is no reason why the Irish people should abandon the path of duty. If Ireland should attain her freedom, it will not be long necessary for Irish working people to be dependent on Englishmen, or other foreigners, for a livelihood. They will find enough to do at home, in developing the resources and winning back the lost industries of their country. Americans were not afraid to give up one million men to the sword that the republic might be saved. Irishmen in America or elsewhere cannot be terrified into neutrality by a threat that a few thousands of their kindred in Great Britain may be thrown out of employment because of Parnell's agitation.

The Citizen, Chicago.



The Pope on Christian Education.

LETTER OF LEO XIII. TO THE PRELATES OF ENGLAND ON THE ABSOLUTE NECESSITY OF RELIGION IN THE SCHOOLS.

TO OUR VENERABLE BRETHREN, HENRY EDWARD, CARDINAL PRIEST OF THE HOLY ROMAN CHURCH, OF THE TITLE OF STS. ANDREW AND GREGORY ON THE COELIAN HILL, ARCHBISHOP OF WESTMINSTER, AND THE OTHER BISHOPS OF ENGLAND, POPE LEO XIII.

Venerable Brethren, Health and Apostolic Benediction—Your proved fidelity and singular devotion to this Apostolic See are admirably shown in the letter which we have lately received from you. Our pleasure in receiving it is indeed increased by the further knowledge which it gives us of your great vigilance and anxiety in a matter where no care can be too great; we mean the Christian education of your children, upon which you have lately taken counsel together, and have reported to us the decisions to which you came.

In this work of so great moment, venerable brethren, we rejoice much to see that you do not work alone; for we know how much is due to the whole body of your clergy. With the greatest charity, and with unconquered efforts, they have provided schools for their children; and with wonderful diligence and assiduity, they endeavor by their teaching to form them to a Christian life, and to instruct them in the elements of knowledge. Wherefore, with all the encouragement and praise that our voice can give, we bid your clergy to go on in their meritorious work, and to be assured of our special commendation and good-will, looking forward to a far greater reward from our Lord God, for whose sake they are laboring.

Not less worthy of commendation is the generosity of Catholics in this matter. We know how readily they supply what is needed for the maintenance of schools; not only those who are wealthy, but those, also, who are of slender means and poor; and it is beautiful to see how, often from the earnings of their poverty, they willingly contribute to the education of children.

In these days, and in the present condition of the world, when the tender age of childhood is threatened on every side by so many and such various dangers, hardly anything can be imagined more fitting than the union with literary instruction of sound teaching in faith and morals. For this reason, we have more than once said that we strongly approve of the voluntary schools, which, by the work and liberality of private individuals, have been established in France, in Belgium, in America, and in the Colonies of the British Empire. We desire their increase, as much as possible, and that they may flourish in the number of their scholars. We ourselves also, seeing the condition of things in this city, continue, with the greatest effort and at great cost to provide an abundance of such schools for the children of Rome. For it is in, and by, these schools that the Catholic faith, our greatest and best inheritance, is preserved whole and entire. In these schools the liberty of parents is respected; and, what is most needed, especially in the prevailing license of opinion and of action, it is by these schools that good citizens are brought up for the State; for there is no better citizen than the man who has believed and practiced the Christian faith from his childhood. The beginning, and, as it were, the seed of that human perfection which Jesus Christ gave to mankind, are to be found in the Christian education of the young: for the future condition of the State depends upon the early training of its children. The wisdom of our forefathers, and the very foundations of the State, are ruined by the destructive error of those who would have children brought up without religious education. You see, therefore, venerable brethren, with what earnest forethought parents must beware of intrusting their children to schools in which they cannot receive religious teaching.

In your country of Great Britain, we know that, besides yourselves, very many of your nation are not a little anxious about religious education. They do not in all things agree with us; nevertheless they see how important, for the sake both of society and of men individually, is the preservation of that Christian wisdom which your forefathers received, through St. Augustine, from our predecessor, Gregory the Great; which wisdom the violent tempests that came afterwards have not entirely scattered. There are, as we know, at this day, many of an excellent disposition of mind who are diligently striving to retain what they can of the ancient faith, and who bring forth many and great fruits of charity. As often as we think of this, so often are we deeply moved; for we love with a paternal charity that island which was not undeservedly called the Mother of Saints; and we see, in the disposition of mind of which we have spoken, the greatest hope, and, as it were, a pledge of the welfare and prosperity of the British people.

Go on, therefore, venerable brethren, in making the young your chief care; press onward in every way your episcopal work, and cultivate with alacrity and hopefulness whatever good seeds you find; for God, who is rich in mercy, will give the increase.

As a pledge of gifts from above, and in witness of our good-will, we lovingly grant in the Lord to you, and to the clergy and people committed to each one of you, the Apostolic Benediction.

Given at Rome, at St. Peter's, on the 27th day of November, in the year 1885, in the eighth year of our Pontificate.

LEO PP. XIII.

BISHOP SPALDING ON STIMULANTS.—I hate drink, because it destroys the good in life. I find in my own experience that I am more myself, while under total abstinence, than when I was a moderate drinker. Life is sweeter, fonder, freer to me as a total abstainer than as a moderate drinker. So I say, if you want to get the most out of your life, if you want to sympathize with your fellow-man, to feel the true force of your beginning, abstain from alcoholic stimulants.



Te Deum.

The course of the general election has surpassed the most sanguine expectations of the Irish leader. Our success has been such as might well take our breath away with joy. The Irish race at home and in the stranger's land have risen to the height of the great crisis with a unity and soldier-like discipline absolutely unparalleled in the world's history, and their magnificent enthusiasm has swept all before it. Three grand results may already be chalked up, and they involve triumphs that a few years ago would have been deemed the ideal of crazy dreamers. The Nominal Home Rulers are effaced to a man. The once proud Irish Whig party, who for a quarter of a century held undisputed sway over the Irish representation, is literally annihilated. If Mr. Dickson should be a solitary survivor, he will survive not as a living force in Irish politics, but as the one bleak and woe-begone specimen now extant of a race of politicians who once swarmed over four-fifths of the constituencies of this island. The third great achievement of the election campaign, and the mightiest of all, is that the Irish vote in England has been proved to demonstration to be able to trim and balance English parties to its liking, and consequently to make the Irish vote in Ireland the supreme power in the English legislature. It is impossible to over-estimate the magnitude of these results. The causes of joy are absolutely bewildering in number. A few years ago, the National voice in Ireland was heard only as a faint, distant murmur at Westminster. It could only rumble under ground in Ireland, and every outward symptom of Irish disaffection could be suppressed with the iron hand without causing one quiver of uneasiness at Westminster, much less shaking Ministries and revolutionizing parties. Even at home Nationalism was a shunned creed. It was not respectable. The few exponents it occasionally sent to Parliament were regarded as oddities. The mass of the Irish representation were as thoroughly English party-men as if they were returned from Yorkshire. To-day what an enchanted transformation scene!

A month since Mr. Parnell's party was but a fraction of the Irish representation. The Irish Whigs and Nominal Home Rulers combined outnumbered them, without counting the solid phalanx of Ulster Tories. Where are the three opposing factions to-day? The Nominal Home Rulers have died off without a groan. The Northern Whigs have committed suicide by one of the most infatuated strokes of folly ever recorded in political annals. The Tories have shrunk within the borders of one out of thirty-two counties in Ireland, with precarious outposts in three others; and they are beside themselves with exultation because they have managed to save Derry and Belfast themselves by a neck from the jaws of all-devouring Nationalism. Nor is the seizing possession of seven-eighths of the Irish representation the only or even the greatest fact of the day. The Nationalists have not only won, but over four-fifths of the country they have reduced their opponents to a laughing-stock in the tiny minorities in which the Loyal and Patriotic Union have obligingly exhibited them. The overwhelming character of the Nationalist victory would not have been a tithe so impressive had not our malignant enemies insisted upon coming out in the daylight in review order, and displaying their pigmy insignificance to a wondering world. A string of uncontested elections would have passed off monotonously unimaginatively. It would have been said the country was simply dumb and tame and terrorized. But the Irish Loyal and Patriotic Union have guarded us against any mistake of that sort. They valiantly spent their fifty thousand pounds in challenging the verdict of the country, and the country is answering in thunder-tones that will reverberate to the most distant times. Uncontested elections in Dublin City, for example, would have attracted but little notice. It was known that the Nationalists were in overwhelming strength on the register; but the croakers of the Scotch Times and Express might still have exercised their imagination in bragging what wonders the loyalists might have performed, if they thought it worth while. But the Loyal and Patriotic Union heroically determined that national spirit in Dublin should not be allowed merely to smoulder for want of fuel. They determined to brand their faction with impotence in eternal black and white. They delivered their challenge with the insolence and malignity of their progenitors of the Penal Days, and the result was such a tornado of national feeling as never shook the Irish capital before; a tornado before which the pigmies who raised it are shivering in affright. Magnificent as are the results in Ireland, however, our countrymen in England have achieved the real marvels of the campaign. They have brought the towering Liberal majority tumbling like a house of cards. They have in fifty-five constituencies set up or knocked down English candidates like ninepins. With the one unhappy exception of Glasgow, where tenderness for a Scotch radical gave a seat to Mr. Mitchel-Henry, the superb discipline of the Irish electorate has extorted the homage as well as the consternation of English party managers. They have made Mr. Parnell as supreme between rival English parties as the Irish constituencies have effaced the Whig and Nominal factions who disputed his supremacy. Ten thousand times, well done, ye brave and faithful Irish exiles. On the day of Ireland's liberation you will deserve to rank high in the glorious roll of her deliverers.

United Ireland, Dublin.

EIGHTY-SIX TO EIGHTEEN.—This is the way the Irish representation now stands, eighty-six men in favor of making Ireland a nation, eighteen wanting to keep her a province, and a province on which they can selfishly batten. The elections in every way have borne out the forecast of the Irish leaders, who calculated eighty-five as the minimum strength of the National party. Mr. Gladstone will now be gratified to learn that in response to his late Midlothian addresses, this nation has spoken out in a manner which cannot be falsified or gainsaid, demanding the restoration of its stolen Parliament. The loyalists, with all the power of England at their back, and money galore at their command, can point to only one whole county out of the thirty-two which has remained solid for the Union. Antrim alone sends up a solid Tory representation, and with it the only vestige that is left of the "Imperial Province" is some fragments of Down, Derry and Armagh—in all of which the Nationalists also have won a seat. On the other hand, in four Northern counties—Monaghan, Cavan, Fermanagh and Donegal, the loyalists have not carried a single division, and won only one out of four in Tyrone. How much more "unity" do the English want? The excuse hitherto has been that Home Rule could not be granted because Ireland was itself divided on the subject; but even that wretched pretence is now forever at an end, for almost since the dawn of history no such practical unanimity was ever shown by any nation.



Rapidity of Time's Flight.

Swiftly glide the years of our lives. They follow each other like the waves of the ocean. Memory calls up the persons we once knew—the scenes in which we were once actors. They appear before the mind like the phantoms of a night vision. Behold the boy rejoicing in the gayety of his soul. The wheels of Time cannot move too rapidly for him. The light of hope dances in his eyes; the smile of expectation plays with his lips. He looks forward to long years of joy to come; his spirit burns within him when he hears of great men and mighty deeds; he longs to mount the hill of ambition, to tread the path of honor, to hear the shouts of applause. Look at him again. He is now in the meridian of life; care has stamped its wrinkles upon his brow; disappointment has dimmed the lustre of his eye; sorrow has thrown its gloom upon his countenance. He looks backward upon the waking dreams of his youth, and sighs for their futility. Each revolving year seems to diminish something from his little stock of happiness, and discovers that the season of youth, when the pulse of anticipation beats high, is the only season of enjoyment. Who is he of aged locks? His form is bent and totters, his footsteps move but rapidly toward the tomb. He looks back upon the past; his days appear to have been few; the magnificence of the great is to him vanity; the hilarity of youth, folly; he considers how soon the gloom of death must overshadow the one and disappoint the other. The world presents little to attract and nothing to delight him. A few more years of infirmity, inanity and pain must consign him to idiocy or the grave. Yet this was the gay, the generous, the high-souled boy who beheld the ascending path of life strewn with flowers without a thorn. Such is human life; but such cannot be the ultimate destinies of man.

The best education in the world is that got by struggling for a living.—Wendell Phillips.



Juvenile Department.

CHOOSING OCCUPATIONS.

Five little girls sat down to talk one day beside the brook. Miss Lizzie said when she grew up she meant to write a book; And then the others had to laugh, till tears were in their eyes, To think of Lizzie's writing books, and see her look so wise. Miss Lucy said she always thought she'd like to teach a school, And make the horrid, ugly boys obey her strictest rule. Miss Minnie said she'd keep a shop where all the rest must buy, And they agreed to patronize, if "prices weren't too high." Miss Ada said she'd marry rich, and wear a diamond ring, And give a party every night, "and never do a thing!" But Nellie, youngest of them all, shook out each tumbled curl, And said she'd always stay at home, and be her mother's girl.

A CHILD AND A WASP.

Among the passengers on a train going West, was a very much over-dressed woman, accompanied by a bright-looking Irish nurse girl, who had charge of a self-willed, tyrannical two-year-old boy, of whom the over-dressed woman was plainly the mother. The mother occupied a seat by herself. The nurse and child were in a seat immediately in front of her. The child gave frequent exhibitions of temper, and kept the car filled with such vicious yells and shrieks, that there was a general feeling of savage indignation among the passengers. Although he time and again spat in his nurse's face, scratched her hands until the blood came, and tore at her hair and bonnet, she bore with him patiently. The indignation of the passengers was made the greater because the child's mother made no effort to correct or quiet him, but, on the contrary, sharply chided the nurse whenever she manifested any firmness. Whatever the boy yelped for, the mother's cry was, uniformly: "Let him have it, Mary." The feelings of the passengers had been wrought up to the boiling point. The remark was made: audibly here and there that "it would be worth paying for to have the young one chucked out of the window." The hopeful's mother was not moved by the very evident annoyance the passengers felt, and at last fixed herself down in her seat for a comfortable nap. The child had just slapped the nurse in her face for the hundredth time, and was preparing for a fresh attack, when a wasp came from somewhere in the car and flew against the window of the nurse's seat. The boy at once made a dive for the wasp as it struggled upward on the glass. The nurse quickly caught his hand, and said to him coaxingly: "Harry, mustn't touch! Bug will bite Harry!" Harry gave a savage yell, and began to kick and slap the nurse. The mother awoke from her nap. She heard her son's screams, and, without lifting her head or opening her eyes, she cried out sharply to the nurse: "Why will you tease that child so, Mary? Let him have it at once!" Mary let go of Harry. She settled back in her seat with an air of resignation; but there was a sparkle in her eye. The boy clutched at the wasp, and finally caught it. The yell that followed caused joy to the entire car, for every eye was on the boy. The mother woke again. "Mary," she cried, "let him have it!" Mary turned calmly in her seat, and with a wicked twinkle in her eye said: "Sure, he's got it, ma'am!" This brought the car down. Every one in it roared. The child's mother rose up in her seat with a jerk. When she learned what the matter was, she pulled her boy over the back of the seat, and awoke some sympathy for him by laying him across her knee and warming him nicely. In ten minutes he was as quiet and meek as a lamb, and he never opened his head again until the train reached its destination.

THE PREHENSILE TAILED COENDOU.

The Havre aquarium has just put on exhibition one of the most curious, and especially one of the rarest, of animals—the prehensile tailed coendou (Synetheres prehensilis). It was brought from Venezuela by Mr. Equidazu, the commissary of the steamer Colombie.

Brehm says that never but two have been seen—one of them at the Hamburg zoological garden, and the other at London. The one under consideration, then, would be the third specimen that has been brought alive to Europe.

This animal, which is allied to the porcupines, is about three and a half feet long. The tail alone, is one and a half feet in length. The entire body, save the belly and paws, is covered with quills, which absolutely hide the fur. Upon the back, where these quills are longest (about four inches), they are strong, cylindrical, shining, sharp-pointed, white at the tip and base, and blackish-brown in the middle. The animal, in addition, has long and strong mustaches. The paws, anterior and posterior, have four fingers armed with strong nails, which are curved, and nearly cylindrical at the base.

Very little is known about the habits of the animal. All that we do know is, that it passes the day in slumber at the top of a tree, and that it prowls about at night, its food consisting chiefly of leaves of all kinds. When it wishes to descend from one branch to another, it suspends itself by the tail, and lets go of the first only when it has a firm hold of the other.

One peculiarity is that the extremity of the dorsal part of the tail is prehensile. This portion is deprived of quills for a length of about six inches.



The coendou does not like to be disturbed. When it is, it advances toward the intruder, and endeavors to frighten him by raising its quills all over its body. The natives of Central America eat its flesh and employ its quills for various domestic purposes.

The animal is quite extensively distributed throughout South America. It is found in Brazil, Venezuela, Colombia, Guiana, and in some of the Lesser Antilles, such as Trinidad, Barbados, Saint Lucia, etc.

LITTLE QUEEN PET AND HER KINGDOM.

With these words the stranger vanished, and Pet trotted on her way again, with the clock and key in her pocket.

She had not gone far till she began to notice a great many little cabins and cottages about the country, which looked very bare and uncomfortable. "Surely these must belong to the poor!" she thought; "and I daresay that is a very poor man who is following the plough over in that field."

She walked across the meadows until she reached the ploughman, and having noticed that his clothing was very bad indeed, and that he looked worn and sad, she formed her wish, and the next moment she was following the plough as if she had been at it all her life. She had passed completely into the man; there was not a vestige of her left outside of him; she felt her hands quite hard and horny; she took great long steps over the rough ground; she cried "Gee-up!" to the horses; and she knew very well if she could only look into a glass she should see, not Pet any more, but the sunburnt man toiling after his plough. She was quite bewildered by the change at first, but presently she began to interest herself greatly in all the new thoughts that poured into her mind. After a time she quite lost sight of her old self, and felt that she was the man. She put her horny hand in her pocket, and found that the clock and key were there safely, and this consoled her with the thought that she was not hopelessly buried in the ploughman. When the sun went down she stopped ploughing and went home to a little cottage which was hidden among some bushes in a field.

Half a dozen little hungry children, with poor, scanty clothing came running to meet her.

"Oh, father!" they cried, "mother has been so ill to-day, and neighbor Nancy says she will never get well without some wine to make her strong!"

The ploughman groaned at hearing this. "Ah," thought he, "where can I get money for wine? I can scarcely earn food enough for so many; and who will give me wine?"

Pet was greatly distressed at finding these painful thoughts throbbing through and through her. "At home in my palace," she said, "everybody drinks a bottle of wine a day, and they are not sick, and are all strong. I must see about this afterwards." Then she went into the cottage, and the first thing she did was to take the clock out of her pocket and wind it up with the little key, and hang it on a nail on the wall.

"What is that you have got?" said the poor woman from her straw bed.

"Oh, it is a clock that a gentleman made me a present of," said the ploughman.

The eldest girl now poured out some porridge on a plate and set it down before her father. Pet was very hungry, and was glad of anything she could get; but she did not like the porridge, and thought that it was very different indeed from the food she got at home. But while she was eating, the poor man's thoughts quite overwhelmed her.

"What is to become of them all?" he thought. "I have ten children, and my wages are so small, and food and clothing are so dear. When the poor wife was well, she used to look after the cow and poultry, and turn a little penny, but now she is not able, and I fear——"

"Oh, father! father! the cow is dead!" cried four boys, rushing into the cottage.

And the poor man bowed his head on the table and groaned.

"Why, this is dreadful!" thought Pet. "Is this really the sort of thing that poor people suffer. How I wish the month was up that I might do something for them!" And she tried to glance at the clock, but could not, because the man kept his eyes bent on the ground.

Pet was kept awake all that night by the ploughman's sad thoughts, and very early in the morning she was hard at work again, carrying a heavy heart with her all about the fields. Day after day this went on, and she was often very hungry, and very sad at hearing the complaints of the hungry children, and seeing the pale face of the sick woman. Every day things became worse. The ploughman got into debt through trying to procure a little wine to save his wife's life, and when rent-day came round he had not enough money to pay. Just as things arrived at this state, the clock ran down, and Pet, who had taken care to put it in her pocket that morning along with the key, suddenly found her own self standing alone in the field, watching the poor ploughman following his plough, exactly as she had at first beheld him. She at once began running away as fast as she could, when she was stopped by her friend Time, who stood in her path.

"Where are you running to now?" asked he.

"I am hurrying home to my palace to get money, and wine, and everything for these poor people!" cried Pet.

"Gently!" said Time, "I cannot allow it so soon. You must continue your experiences and trust the poor ploughman and his family to me; I will take care of them till you are able to do something for them. Were you to go back to your palace now, you would be kept there, and I should no longer be able to stand your friend; on the contrary, I might, perhaps, against my will, be forced to prove your enemy. Go on now, and remember my instructions."

And he vanished again.

Pet travelled a long way after this, and as she had to beg on the road for a little food and a night's lodging, she had very good opportunities for seeing the kindness with which the poor behave to each other. Mothers, who had hardly enough for their own children to eat, would give her a piece of bread without grumbling. At last, one evening, she arrived at a splendid large city, and felt quite bewildered with the crowds in the streets and the magnificence of the buildings. At first she could not see any people who looked very poor; but at last, when lingering in front of a very handsome shop window, she noticed a shabbily-dressed young girl go in at a side door, and something about her sad face made Pet think that this girl was in great distress. She formed her wish, and presently found that she, Pet, was the girl. Up a great many flights of stairs she went, passed gay show-rooms where fine ladies were trying on new dresses, and at last she arrived at a workroom where many white-faced girls were sewing busily with their heads bent down. The little seamstress, who was now one with Pet, had been out matching silks for the forewoman of the work, and now she sat down with a bright heap of satin on her knees. "Oh, dear!" thought Pet, as she threaded her needle, "how very heavy her heart is! I can hardly hold it up; and how weak she is? I feel as if she was going to faint!" And then Pet became quite occupied with the seamstress's thoughts as she had been once with the ploughman's. She went home to the girl's lodging, a wretched garret at the top of a wretched house, and there she found a poor old woman, the young girl's grandmother, and a little boy asleep on some straw. The poor old woman could not sleep with cold, though her good grand-daughter covered her over with her own clothes. Pet took care to hang up her clock, newly wound, as soon as she went in; and the poor old woman was so blind she did not take any notice of it. And, oh, what painful dreams Pet had that night in the girl's brain! This poor child's heart was torn to pieces by just the same kind of grief and terror which had distracted the mind of the ploughman: grief at seeing those she loved suffering want in spite of all her exertions for them, terror lest they should die of that suffering for need of something that she could not procure them. The little boy used to cry with hunger; the young seamstress often went to work without having had any breakfast, and with only a crust of bread in her pocket. It was a sad time for Pet, and she thought it would never pass over. At last, one day the poor girl fell ill, and Pet found herself lying on some straw in the corner of the garret, burning with fever, and no one near to help her. The poor old woman could only weep and mourn; and the boy, who was too young to get work to do, sat beside her in despair. Pet heard him say to himself at last, "I will go and beg; she told me not, but I must do something for her." And away he went but came back sobbing. Nobody would give him anything; everybody told him he ought to be at school. "And so I should be if she were well," he cried; "but I can't go and leave her here to die!" The sufferings of the poor girl were greatly increased by her brother's misery; and what was her horror when she heard him mutter suddenly: "I will go and steal something. The shops are full of everything. I won't let her die!" Then before she had time to stop him he had darted out of the room.

Just at this moment Pet's clock ran down, and she flew off, forgetting Time's commands, and only bent on reaching her palace. But her strange friend appeared in her path as before.

"Oh, don't stop me!" cried Pet. "The girl will die, and the boy will turn out a thief!"

"Leave them to me! leave them to me!" said Time, "and go on obediently doing as I bid you."

Pet went away in tears this time, still fancying she could feel the poor sick girl's woful heart beating in her own breast. But by-and-by she cheered herself, remembering Time's promise, and hurried on as fast as she could. She met with a great many sad people after this, and lived a great many different lives, so that she became quite familiar with all the sorrows and difficulties of the poor. She reflected that it was a very sad thing that there should be so much distress in her rich kingdom, and felt much puzzled to know how she could remedy the matter. One day, having just left an extremely wretched family, she travelled a long way without stopping, and she had not seen a very poor-looking dwelling for many miles. All the people she met seemed happy and merry, and they sang over their work as if they had very little care. When she peeped into the little roadside houses she found that they were neatly furnished and comfortable. Even in the towns she could not find any starving people, except a few wicked ones who would not take the trouble to be industrious. At last she asked a man what was the reason that she could not meet with any miserable people?

"Oh," he said, "it is because of our good king; his laws are so wise that nobody is allowed to want."

"Where does he live? and what country is this?" asked Pet.

"This is Silver-country," said the man, "and our king lives over yonder in a castle built of blocks of silver ornamented with rubies and pearls."

Pet then remembered that she had heard her nurses talk about Silver-country, which was the neighboring country to her own. She immediately longed to see this wise king and learn his laws, so that she might know how to behave when she came to sit on her throne, and she trotted on towards the Silver Castle, which now began to rise out of a wreath of clouds in the distance. Arrived at the place, she crept up to the windows of the great dining-hall and peeped in, and there was the good king sitting at his table in a mantle of cloth of silver, and a glorious crown, wrought most exquisitely out of the good wishes of his people, encircling his head. Opposite to him sat his beautiful queen, and beside him a noble-looking lad who was his only son. Pet, seeing this happy sight, immediately formed her wish, and in another moment found herself the king of Silver-country sitting at the head of his board.

"Oh, what a good, great, warm, happy heart it is," thought Pet, and she felt more joy than she had ever known in her life before. "A month will be quite too short a time to live in this noble being. But I must make the best of my time and learn everything I can."

Pet now found her mind filled with the most wonderfully good, wise thoughts, and she took great pains to learn them off by heart, so that she might keep them in her memory forever. Besides all the education she received in this way, she also enjoyed a great happiness, of which she had as yet known nothing, the happiness of living in a loving family, where there was no terrible sorrow or fear to embitter tender hearts. She felt how fondly the king loved his only son, and how sweet it was to the king to know that his boy loved him. When the young prince leaned against his father's knees and told him all about his sports, Pet would remember that she also had had a father, and that he would have loved her like this if he had lived. She could have lived here in the Silver Castle forever, but that could not be. One day the little gold clock ran down and Pet was obliged to hasten away out of Silver-country.

She made great efforts to remember all the king's wise thoughts, and kept repeating his good laws over and over again to herself as she went along. She was now back again in her own country, and the first person she met was a very miserable-looking old woman who lived in a little mud hovel in a forest, and supported herself wretchedly by gathering a few sticks for sale. She was so weak, and so often ill that she could not earn much, and she was dreadfully lonely, as all her children were dead but one; and that one, a brave son whom she loved dearly, had gone away across the world in hope of making money for her. He had never come back, and she feared that he too was dead. Pet did not know these things, of course, until she had formed her wish and was living in the old woman.

This was the saddest existence that Pet had experienced yet, and she felt very anxious for the month to pass away. After the happiness she had enjoyed in Silver-country, the excessive hardship and loneliness of the old woman's life seemed very hard to bear. All day long she wandered about the woods, picking up sticks and tying them in little bundles, and, perhaps, in the end she would only receive a penny for the work of her day. Some days she could not leave her hut, and would lie there alone without anything to eat.

"Oh, my son, my dear son!" she would cry, "where are you now, and will you ever come back to me?"

Pet watched her clock very eagerly, longing for the month to come to an end; but the clock still kept going and going, as if it never meant to stop. For a good while Pet thought that it was only because of her unhappiness and impatience that the time seemed so long, but at last she discovered to her horror that her key was lost!

All her searches for it proved vain. It was quite evident that the key must have dropped through a hole in the old woman's tattered pocket, and fallen somewhere among the heaps of dried leaves, or into the wilderness of the brushwood of the forest.

"Tick, tick! tick, tick!" went that unmerciful clock from its perch on the wall, all through the long days and nights, and poor Pet was in despair at the thought of living locked up in the old woman all her life. Now, indeed, she could groan most heartily when the old woman groaned, and shed bitter tears which rolled plentifully down the old woman's wrinkled cheeks and over her nose.

"Oh, Time, Time, my friend!" she thought, "will you not come to my assistance?"

But though Time fully intended to stand her friend all through her troubles, still he did not choose to help her at that particular moment. And so days, weeks and months went past; and then the years began to go over, and Pet was still locked up in the miserable old woman.

Seven years had passed away and Pet had become in some degree reconciled to her sorrowful existence. She wandered about the forest picking up her sticks, and trying to cheer herself up a little by gathering bouquets of the pretty forest flowers. People passing by often saw the sad figure, all in gray hair and tatters, sitting on a trunk of a fallen tree, wailing and moaning, and, of course, they thought it was altogether the poor old woman lamenting for her son. They never thought of its being also Pet, bewailing her dreary imprisonment.

One fine spring morning she went out as usual to pick her sticks, and looking up from her work, she saw suddenly a beautiful, noble-looking young figure on horseback spring up in a distant glade of violets, and come riding towards her as if out of a dream. As the youth came near she recognized his bright blue eyes and his silver mantle, and she said to herself:

"Oh! I declare, it is the young Prince of Silver-country; only he has grown so tall! He has been growing all these years, and is quite a young man. And I ought to have been growing too; but I am left behind, only a child still: if, indeed, I ever come to stop being an old woman!"

"Will you tell me, my good woman," said the young prince, "if you have heard of any person who has lost a little gold key in this forest. I have found—"

Pet screamed with delight at these words.

"Oh, give it to me, give it to me!" she implored. "It is mine! It is mine!"

The prince gave it to her, and no sooner did it touch her hand than the clock ran down, and Pet was released from her imprisonment in the old woman. Instantly the young prince saw before him a lovely young maiden of his own age, for Pet had really been growing all the time though she had not known it. The old woman also stared in amazement, not knowing where the lady could have come from, and the prince begged Pet to tell him who she was, and how she had come there so suddenly. Then all three, the prince, Pet, and the old woman, sat upon the trunk of a tree while Pet related the story of her life and its adventures.

The old woman was so frightened at the thought that another person had been living in her for seven years that she got quite ill; however, the prince made her a present of a bright gold coin, and this helped to restore her peace of mind.

"And so you lived a whole month among us and we never knew you?" cried the prince, in astonishment and delight. "Oh, I hope we shall never part again, now that we have met!"

"I hope we shan't!" said Pet; "and won't you come home with me now and settle with my Government? for I am dreadfully afraid of it."

So he lifted Pet up on his horse, and she sat behind him; then they bade good-by to the old woman, promising not to forget her, and rode off through the forests and over the fields to the palace of the kings and queens of Goldenlands.

Oh, dear, how delighted the people were to see their little queen coming home again. The Government had been behaving dreadfully all this long time, and had been most unkind to the kingdom. Everybody knew it was really Pet, because she had grown so like her mother, whom they had all loved; and besides they quite expected to see her coming, as messengers had been sent into all the corners of the world searching for her. As these messengers had been gone about eight or nine years, the people thought it was high time for Queen Pet to appear. The cruel Government, however, was in a great fright, as it had counted on being allowed to go on reigning for many years longer, and it ran away in a hurry out of the back door of the palace, and escaped to the other side of the world; where, as nobody knew anything of its bad ways, it was able to begin life over again under a new name.

Just at the same moment a fresh excitement broke out among the joyful people when it was known that thirty-five of the queen's royal names, lost on the day of her christening, had been found at last. And where do you think they were found? One had dropped into a far corner of the waistcoat pocket of the old clerk, who had been so busy saying "Amen," that he had not noticed the accident. Only yesterday, while making a strict search for a small morsel of tobacco to replenish his pipe, had he discovered the precious name. Twenty-five more of the names had rolled into a mouse-hole, where they had lain snugly hidden among generations of young mice ever since; six had been carried off by a most audacious sparrow who had built his nest in the rafters of the church-roof; and none of these thirty-one names would ever have seen the light again only that repairs and decorations were getting made in the old building for the coronation of the queen. Last of all, four names were brought to the palace by young girls of the village, whose mothers had stolen them through vanity on the day of the christening, thinking they would be pretty for their own little babes. The girls being now grown up had sense enough to know that such finery was not becoming to their station; and, besides, they did not see the fun of having names which they were obliged to keep secret. So Nancy, Polly, Betsy, and Jane (the names they had now chosen instead) brought back their stolen goods and restored them to the queen's own hand. The fate of the remaining names still remains a mystery.

Now, I daresay, you are wondering what these curious names could have been; all I can tell you about them is, that they were very long and grand, and hard to pronounce; for, if I were to write them down here for you, they would cover a great many pages, and interrupt the story quite too much. At all events, they did very well for a queen to be crowned by; but I can assure you that nobody who loved the little royal lady ever called her anything but Pet.

Well, after this, Pet and the Prince of Silver-country put their heads together, and made such beautiful laws that poverty and sorrow vanished immediately out of Goldenlands. All the people in whom Pet had lived were brought to dwell near the palace, and were made joyous and comfortable for the rest of their lives. A special honor was conferred on the families of the spiders and the butterfly, who had so good-naturedly come to the assistance of the little queen. The old gowns were taken out of the wardrobe and given to those who needed them; and very much delighted they were to see the light again, though some of the poor things had suffered sadly from the moths since the day when they had made their complaint to Pet. Full occupation was given to the money and the bread-basket; and, in fact, there was not a speck of discontent to be found in the whole kingdom.

This being so, there was now leisure for the great festival of the marriage and coronation of Queen Pet and the Prince. Such a magnificent festival never was heard of before. All the crowned heads of the world were present, and among them appeared Pet's old friend Time, dressed up so that she scarcely knew him, with a splendid embroidered mantle covering his poor bare bones.

"Ah," he said to Pet, "you were near destroying all our plans by your carelessness in losing the key! However, I managed to get you out of the scrape. See now that you prove a good, obedient wife, and a loving mother to all your people, and, if you do, be sure I shall always remain your friend, and get you safely out of all your troubles."

"Oh, thank you!" said Pet; "you have, indeed, been a good friend to me. But—I never found that jewel that you bid me look for. I quite forgot about it!"

"I am having it set in your Majesty's crown," said Time, with a low bow.

Then the rejoicings began; and between ringing of bells, cheering, singing, and clapping of hands, there was such an uproarious din of delight in Goldenlands that I had to put my fingers in my ears and run away! I am very glad, however, that I stayed long enough to pick up this story for you; and I hope that my young friends will

"Never forget Little Queen Pet, Who was kind to all The poor people she met!"

ROSA MULHOLLAND.

IN THE SNOW.

Brave little robins, Cheerily singing, Fear not the snow-storms Winter is bringing.

Each to the other Music is making, Courage and comfort Giving and taking.

"What," cries Cock Robin, "Matters the weather, Since we can always Bear it together?"

"Sweet," his mate answers, Ever brave-hearted, "None need be pitied Till they are parted."

On the other side of the Atlantic, the little boys used not to celebrate Christmas by blowing unmelodious horns. They would assemble in gangs before their elder friends, and sing such Christmas Carols as the following, which seldom failed to bring the coveted Christmas gift:

"God save you, merry gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay, For Christ Our Lord and Saviour Was born on Christmas Day."

A LITTLE BOY'S GREETING.

Behold a very little boy Who wishes to you here, In simple words of heartfelt joy A happy, bright New Year.

May heaven grant your days increase With joys ne'er known before; In simple words of heartfelt joy To-day and ever more.



BOYS READ THIS.

Many people seem to forget that character grows; that it is not something to put on ready made with womanhood or manhood; day by day, here a little and there a little, grows with the growth, and strengthens with the strength, until, good or bad, it becomes almost a coat of mail. Look at a man of business—prompt, reliable, conscientious, yet clear-headed and energetic. When do you suppose he developed all those admirable qualities? When he was a boy. Let us see how a boy of ten years gets up in the morning, works, plays, studies, and we will tell you just what kind of a man he will make. The boy that is late at breakfast, late at school, stands a poor chance of being a prompt man. The boy who neglects his duties, be they ever so small, and then excuses himself by saying, "I forgot; I didn't think!" will never be a reliable man; and the boy who finds a pleasure in the suffering of weaker things will never become a noble, generous, kind man—a gentleman.

HOUSE KNOWLEDGE FOR BOYS.

The Governor of Massachusetts, in an address before the Worcester Technical School, June 25th, said some words that are worthy of noting. He said: "I thank my mother that she taught me both to sew and to knit. Although my domestic life has always been felicitous, I have, at times, found this knowledge very convenient. A man who knows how to do these things, at all times honorable and sometimes absolutely necessary to preserve one's integrity, is ten times more patient when calamity befalls than one who has not these accomplishments."

A commendation of "girls' work" from such an authority emboldens the writer to add a word in favor of teaching boys how to do work that may be a relief to a nervous, sick, worried, and overworked mother or wife, and be of important and instant use in emergencies. A hungry man who cannot prepare his food, a dirty man who cannot clean his clothes, a dilapidated man who is compelled to use a shingle nail for a sewed-on button, is a helpless and pitiable object. There are occasions in almost every man's life when to know how to cook, to sew, to "keep the house," to wash, starch, and iron, would be valuable knowledge. Such knowledge is no more unmasculine and effeminate than that of the professional baker.

"During the great Civil War, the forethought of my mother in teaching me the mysteries of household work was a 'sweet boon,' as the late Artemus Ward would say. The scant products of foraging when on the march could be turned to appetizing food by means of the knowledge acquired in boyhood, and a handy use of needle and thread was a valuable accomplishment."

Circumstances of peculiar privation compelled the writer, as head of a helpless family, to undertake the entire work. The instruction of boyhood enabled him to cook, wash, starch, iron, wait on the sick, and do the necessary menial labor of the house in a measurably cleanly and quiet manner. This knowledge is in no way derogatory to the assumptive superiority of the male portion of humanity; a boy who knows how to sweep, to "tidy up," to make a bed, to wash dishes, to set a table, to cook, to sew, to knit, to mend, to wait on the sick, to do chamber work, is none the less a boy; and he may be a more considerate husband, and will certainly be a more independent bachelor, than without this practical knowledge. Let the boys be taught housework; it is better than playing "seven up" in a saloon.

THE BEAN KING.

In the year 1830, the feast of the Epiphany was celebrated at the court of Charles X., according to the old Catholic custom. For the last time under the reign of this monarch one of these ceremonies was that a cake should be offered to the assembled guests, in which a bean had been concealed, and whoever found that he had taken the piece containing the bean was called the bean-king, and had to choose a queen. Besides the king, there were several members of both lines of the house of Bourbon at the table. The Duke of Aumale distributed the cake. All at once the Duke de Chartres called out:

"The Duke of Bordeaux (Chambord) is king."

"Why did you not say so, Henry?" the Duchess de Berry asked her son.

"Because I was sorry to be more fortunate than the others," replied the prince.

The little king chose his aunt, the Duchess of Orleans, for his queen of the day.

The accession of the little king was made known to the people without, and shouts of joy filled the streets of Paris. Charles X. was well pleased, and asked many questions of the little Duke de Bordeaux, the answers from a boy of ten years old already showing his noble character.

"As you are now a king, Henry, which of your predecessors do you propose to imitate?"

"I will be good like you, grandpapa, firm like Henry IV., and mighty like Louis XIV.," replied Henry, after some consideration.

"And whom would you name as your prime-minister?" asked the king again.

"The one who flattered me least."

"And for your private adviser?"

"The one who always tells me the truth—the Baron von Damas."

"Very good, Henry," interposed his mother, "but what would you ask of God in order that you might be able to reign well?"

"Mamma, for firmness and justice."

Providence has not willed that the Duke de Chambord should realize the ideas of the Bean king; but for the whole of his life he remained true to the promise of his youth.

GO TO WORK, YOUNG MAN!

The present age seems to be very prolific in the production of numbers of young men who have somehow or other, educated themselves up to the belief that they were created to make their living by doing nothing. Every city, town, and village in the land is filled to overflowing with young men who are idle—hunting clerkships, or some place where they hope to obtain a living without work. Numbers are hanging around, living from hand to mouth, living upon some friend, waiting for a vacancy in some overcrowded store; and, when a vacancy occurs, offering to work for a salary that would cause a shrewd business man to suspect their honesty; and when remonstrated with by friends, and advised to go to work, they invariably answer, "I don't know what to do."

We would say to these who want to know what to do, go to work. There is work enough to do by which you can earn an honest living and gain the respect of all those whose respect is worth seeking. Quit loafing about, waiting and looking for a clerkship in a store with a wheelbarrow-load of goods. Get out into the country on a farm, and go to work. What to do? Why, in the Mississippi bottoms there are thousands of acres of virgin growth awaiting the stroke of the hardy axe-man, and thousands of acres of tillable-land that need only the work of the sturdy plowman to yield its treasures, richer far than the mines of the Black Hills; and yet you say you don't know what to do?

Go to work—go to the woods—go to the fields—and make an honest living; for we have in our mind's eye numbers of men whose talents are better suited to picking cotton, than measuring calico; to cutting cord wood than weighing sugar; to keeping up fencing, than books, and to hauling rails, than dashing out whiskey by the drink; and we can assure you that the occupations you are better adapted for are much more honorable in the eyes of persons whose respect is worth having.

* * * * *

A little girl asked her father one day to taste a most delicious apple. What remained was ruefully inspected a moment, when she asked: "Do you know, papa, how I can tell you are big without looking at you?"—"I cannot say," was the reply. "I can tell by the bite you took out of my apple," was the crushing reply.

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DONAHOE'S MAGAZINE.

BOSTON, FEBRUARY, 1886.

NOTES ON CURRENT TOPICS.

The Poles.

We have been taught from our boyhood days to regard the Polish people as second to none in obedience to their church; except the Irish, they have suffered more for the Faith than any other peoples in Europe. We are, therefore, grieved to see in some of our Western cities a spirit of rebellion unworthy of the sons of De Kalb and Kosciusko. There is something radically wrong. In the following article, from our esteemed contemporary, the Lake Shore Visitor, published at Erie, Pa., the editor hints at the causes of the troubles, which, we trust, may be corrected by the ordinaries of the dioceses where the troubles have occurred. The Visitor says: The Poles, who seek a living in this country, are men determined to make times lively in their old country fashion. In Buffalo, Detroit, and other cities, they have turned out in fighting trim, and expressed a loud determination to have things ecclesiastically their own way or perish. These church riots are a scandal, and, if the truth were known, they have their origin in nine cases out of ten in the encouragement and conduct of the men who are placed over these people as pastors. A bad priest can make mischief, and, generally speaking, a bad priest can not make his condition any worse by making all the trouble he possibly can. If he knew anything at all he should know that he can hope to gain nothing by inciting a set of ignorant people to riot. In Buffalo the fuss had its origin from a clerical source, and in Detroit a man with an outlandish name, whom the herd seem to admire, is acting anything but prudently. Perhaps only one-half of what is sent over the wires can be regarded as true, but even that would be bad enough. The Poles by their conduct are not making for themselves an enviable name; and they will soon be regarded, even by the civil authorities, as a rebellious people. Surely, in this free country, they can have nothing to complain of. They have all the rights and privileges that other men have, and if they were sufficiently sensible to mind their own affairs and take care of themselves, they would get along quietly, and soon make their influence felt. They cannot expect a free church, nor can they expect that any priest who is not what he should be will be allowed to lead them astray. When a bishop sees fit to make a change, these people should regard the action of the bishop as a move made in their interests, and should not only be willing to submit, but even pleased to see that such an interest is taken in them. When people such as they are, or any other for that matter, undertake to pronounce on the fitness of a pastor they, as Catholics, know they are going too far. In their youth they were taught the Catechism, and that little book certainly tells them whence the approval must come. The riot in Detroit will not, in all probability, amount to anything; but the few who were killed or hurt, will rest upon some one's shoulders as a responsibility, and that load cannot be very suddenly laid down. Unfortunately, for the poor people, they are not blessed, generally speaking, with the guidance of the good priests they knew in their own country, and having too much confidence in every man who claims to be a priest, they are easily led by the designer. The danger will pass over in a few years, when the Polish churches will be supplied with men as priests every way reliable, and men not forced from any country to seek a livelihood amongst strangers.

The Catholic Mirror.

The Catholic Mirror of Baltimore, Md., is now the leading Catholic journal of the United States. Its recent achievement in being the first paper to publish the Pope's Encyclical Immortale Dei was something remarkable. Its Roman correspondent is a gentleman in the inner circles of the spiritual authorities of the church, while its Irish correspondent enjoys the confidence of the National party leaders. Among its special contributors is numbered Dr. John Gilmary Shea. In all respects it is a model Catholic newspaper, and it promises further improvements for this year.

* * * * *

Shortly after we commenced the publication of our MAGAZINE, we received a similar letter to the following from Mr. P. S. Gilmore. After more than a quarter of a century's acquaintance, the friendship of our old friend is as fresh as ever. His congratulations, we assure him, are cordially reciprocated:

NEW YORK, DEC. 19, 1885.

MY DEAR MR. DONAHOE:—Enclosed please find check for $10.00 which place to credit for MAGAZINE, and may I have the pleasure of renewing it many, many times, to which, I am sure, you will say, "Amen," which is equal to saying, "Long life to both of us." Wishing you a merry Christmas and many a happy New Year, I remain, dear Mr. Donahoe, always and ever,

Sincerely yours, P. S. GILMORE.

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RT. REV. JAMES A. HEALY, Bishop of Portland, Me., sailed for Europe in the Allan Steamer Parisian, from Portland, (accompanied by his brother, Rev. Patrick Healy), on the 31st of December. The brothers will spend most of the winter in Naples, and will proceed to Rome.

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THE LATE FATHER MACDONALD.—We give an extremely interesting article in our MAGAZINE this month on the life and labors of good Father MacDonald, lately deceased at Manchester, N. H. The authoress, we learn, is in a Convent of Mercy in New Orleans.

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Fault has been found with the translation of the late Encyclical letter of the Pope. Why could not arrangements be made in Rome for an authentic translation of all such documents for the English-speaking Catholics throughout the world? We are sure the Vatican would furnish such a translation if requested by the heads of the Church in America, Australia, etc. Will the Catholic Mirror, who has a correspondent in the Vatican, see that, in the future, we shall have an authorized translation for the English-speaking Catholics throughout the world?

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ST. JOSEPH'S ADVOCATE.—The fourth year commences with the January number, which, we think, is the best issued. The Advocate is devoted to a record of mission labor among the colored race. The price is only 25 cents a year. Just send 25 cents to Editor St. Joseph's Advocate, 51 Courtland St., Baltimore, Md. Here is a notice from the last issue, which should encourage every Catholic in the country to subscribe not only for the Advocate, but send donations for the conversion of our colored brethren. "What thoughtfulness and charity, all things considered, for the Most Rev. Archbishop of Boston to send ten dollars to this publication! The gift was, indeed, a surprise, total strangers as we are personally to his Grace and without any application or reminder, directly or indirectly, beyond the public appeal in our last, suggested by similar kindness on the part of two esteemed members of the Hierarchy! Will not others follow suit? What if our every opinion is not endorsed, so long as faith and morals are safe in our hands, and promoted in quarters never reached before by the Catholic press. Let it be remembered that the sphere in which we move is traversed in every direction by a non-Catholic press, white and colored, the latter alone claiming from one hundred to one hundred and thirty periodicals edited and published by colored men who have naturally a monopoly of their own market. Is the first Catholic voice ever heard in that chorus to be hushed when those very men welcome us, quote us, thank us, actually watch the point of the pen lest it wound Catholic feelings, employ the most emphatic terms to attest our sincerity as true friends of their people, and pointing to our episcopal and clerical support, assure their readers that 'the great Catholic Church' has ever been the friend of the poor and the oppressed? For all this, thanks to the Catholic spirit in the course we have pursued!"

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A CHINESE INDUSTRY.—New York Tablet: It is not alone the Irish and Americans who are combatting against England's monopoly of the world's trade. She has met with an enemy in an unexpected quarter. Ah Sin has struck at one of her staple commodities, and promises to become an energetic competitor for one of her most flourishing branches of business. For many years Birmingham was the great depot for the manufacture of idols for the heathen nations, and thousands of Englishmen lived on the profits of this trade. Now, we are told, a Chinaman at Sacramento, California, has established a factory for manufacturing idols and devils for use in Chinese processions and temples. If this be true, thousands of workmen will be thrown out of employment in Christian England.

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The Catholic Columbian: If no Catholic has ever yet been elected President of the United States, the widow of one President, Mrs. Polk, is a convert, and three cabinet officers were Catholics: James Campbell, Postmaster General from 1853 to 1857; Roger B. Taney, Attorney General and Secretary of the Treasury, from 1831 to 1834: and James M. Schofield, Secretary of War, from 1868 to 1869.

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This year, Easter Sunday falls upon St. Mark's Day, April 25th,—which is its latest possible date. The last time this occurred was in 1736 (old style), and it will not fall again on the same day of April until 1943.

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Mr. Parnell considers William O'Brien's victory in South Tyrone, and T. M. Healy's conquest of South Londonderry, the two greatest personal triumphs of the Irish parliamentary campaign.

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Chicago Citizen: It is officially announced by Mr. Alexander Sullivan that the Hon. Richard J. Oglesby, governor of Illinois, has accepted the invitation to preside at the monster meeting to be held in the Exposition Building on the occasion of Mr. Parnell's visit to this city. The date is set for January 21. By a unanimous vote of the committee of arrangements it was decided that no resident of the city of Chicago would speak at that meeting. All the honors will be given, as they ought to be, to the governor of the State, the Irish leader and his lieutenants, and to distinguished Irish-Americans from outside cities as may desire to address the people of Chicago.

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PRIESTS IN POLITICS.—Montreal True Witness: There are those who object, with all generosity, to the clergy taking part in political movements. There could be no more illogical cry. It has been the too great severance of religion from the affairs of the public that has enabled so many unfit persons to obtain parliamentary election and tended to degrade politics. These people go to make laws affecting morality, education, and the conditions of social existence too often without the slightest fitness for that great duty and task. The clergy are the spiritual guides of the people, the custodians of the most important influences which affect humanity. To say that they should abstain from endeavoring to affect administration in a beneficial manner, is to say not only that they should de-citizenize themselves, but that they should violate their pledges and abandon their sworn duty. Those who think the clergy are not doing honor to their office by participating in politics take a very narrow view of the case. Without, perhaps, intending to do so, they play into the hands and promote the ends of those conspirators who are endeavoring to destroy Christianity and the moral system based upon it.

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In reply to a letter, calling Cardinal Newman's attention to the recent revival of the vigorous old lie which attributes to him the statement that he regarded the Established Church as the great bulwark against atheism in England, his Eminence has written as follows: My dear ——. Thank you for your letter. I know by experience how difficult it is, when once a statement gets into the papers, to get it out of them. What more can I do than deny it? And this I have done. I always refer inquirers to what I have said in my "Apologia." The Anglican bishops say that Disestablishment would be a "national crime," but Catholics will say that the national crime was committed three hundred years ago. Yours most truly,—

J. H. CARDINAL NEWMAN.

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DROP THE OATHS.—Milwaukee Catholic Citizen: Labor organizations ought not to be lightly condemned. Our American trade unions are among the most salutary associations that we have. In Chicago, recently, they incurred the displeasure of the Socialists, because they would not allow socialism to flaunt itself at one of their demonstrations.

They all tend to promote providence, social union and independence. They "keep the wolf away from the door" of hundreds.

The case of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers is one in point. During the twenty years of its existence the Brotherhood has paid out nearly $2,000,000 in insurance to the families of engineers who have been killed or permanently disabled. The motto of the brotherhood is: "Sobriety, Truth, Justice and Morality."

The more stress that is laid upon sobriety in all labor organizations the better.

It is to be regretted that some trade unions take the form of secret societies, and thus tempt Catholic workingmen (of whom there are thousands), to violate dictates of conscience. Labor leaders ought to reason that this is not right. These organizations need Catholic artisans, and Catholic workingmen need these organizations, provided they are honestly, soberly, and candidly conducted.

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The number of members of the new House of Commons never before elected to Parliament is 332. This has had no parallel since the first Parliament under the Reform Bill of 1832. The ultimate figures of the election are: Liberals, 334; Conservatives, 250; Parnellites, 86. The coalition of the last two has thus a majority of two. This, compared with the last Parliament, will leave the Liberals weaker by 17 votes, and the Conservatives stronger by 12 votes. The Liberals have gained 80 votes in the counties and lost 91 in the towns. An immense number of Liberal members of the last Parliament are beaten. The list is over 80, including 11 Ministers.

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AN HEROIC SISTER.—Mgr. Sogara, Bishop of Trapezepolis and Vicar-Apostolic of Central Africa, telegraphs that a despatch has reached him from Egypt containing the gratifying intelligence of the liberation of two sisters who were imprisoned in the Soudan, and whose freedom has been procured by Abdel Giabbari, Mgr. Sogaro's envoy in the Soudan. The striking historical spectacle presented by General Gordon's long and lonely journey on his camel across the desert to Khartoum has been eclipsed in its sublimity by the feat which has just been performed by Sister Cipriani, who has just traversed the same weary, arid waste on foot, accompanied by a single Arab attendant. Gordon's name will live forever in story, side by side with the great knights, historical and legendary, of the olden time. The labors of the noble and heroic Sister Cipriani, though attended with as much personal danger, and performed in a higher sphere, will, perhaps, meet with little earthly recognition. Be it so. She wants no fleeting fame. Sufficient for her is the consciousness that she has done her duty by those whom she was sent to soothe and comfort by her gentle and devoted ministrations.

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The Catholic Citizen, Milwaukee, Wis., has entered upon its sixteenth year. We are pleased to see it is well sustained, as it deserves to be. Long life to the Citizen.

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RIGHT REV. DR. SULLIVAN, recently consecrated Bishop of Mobile, declined to accept a purse of one thousand dollars from his late congregation in Washington, advising them to present it to his successor for the benefit of the church. He said he came among them with nothing, and preferred to take nothing away with him. Such admirable unselfishness shows what a devoted pastor the parishioners of St. Peter's, Washington, have lost and the Diocese of Mobile has gained.

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CATHOLIC "SOCIETY."—Some of our people, especially among those who are rich in worldly goods and deal in worldly literature, are heard to complain that there is no "society" among Catholics. Well, every one knows that most of our people are poor, and have not time or occasion to study the laws of etiquette or the language of diplomacy. Those good people who seek society elsewhere, however, would do well to lend their fellow-Catholics the light of their example and shine by the contrast they create. Better far than cutting a very poor figure in Protestant society will they find it to teach their own co-religionists the amenities of social life. They had better be first with their own than a poor second with strangers; honored among the faithful than despised by the dissenter. Ah! this aping after society, besides being pitiful and ridiculous, soon takes the faith out of our people. Their children marry outside the household of faith, and, with their children's children, are lost to the Church. What does it profit to gain the whole world and lose your soul?

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MR. JOHN DILLON presided at a meeting of the Nationalists in Dublin, and spoke warmly in praise of the courage of the Ulster Nationalists, who had fought their battles throughout with vigor and determination. The Protestant farmers in Ulster were men whose promises could be relied upon. He could never forget the sacrifices they had made for him at the last election, or the fact that five hundred of them had voted for Mr. Healy. Though he himself had been defeated in North Tyrone, he had been gratified even in defeat. The men who had voted in those places, where there was no chance for a Nationalist, deserved the thanks of the Irish people for the loyalty with which they had obeyed the command of the leaders, and trampled upon their old prejudices and local feelings. Whigs had disappeared from Ulster, and would never re-appear, unless in honorable alliance with the Nationalists.

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The grand old man, Gladstone, celebrated his seventy-sixth year on the 29th of December. May he live to accomplish the pacification of Ireland.

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ORANGE BLUSTER.—Mr. John E. Macartney, who was the Tory member for Tyrone in the last Parliament, but who was ousted in the late elections by the National candidate, declares that the adoption of any form of Home Rule would be in direct violation of the Constitution, under the provisions of which thousands of Englishmen and Scotchmen have invested money in Ireland. To grant Ireland Home Rule, he says, would be to destroy the minority in Ireland, and the English people would be held responsible for the consequences. An Orange demonstration was held in Armagh, where several prominent "Loyalists" made violent speeches in opposition to the Home Rule doctrine. Following its leaders, the meeting adopted a series of resolutions declaring that a resort to Home Rule principles would be certain, sooner or later, to end in civil war, and exhorting the "loyalist" party to do its utmost to resist the efforts of the Home Rule advocates. The resolutions also commended the "loyalists" in Ireland to "the sympathy of all Protestants throughout the British Kingdom!" "The Ulster Orangemen are ready to come to the front," said one of the speakers, amid great applause, "and when their services are wanted sixty thousand men can readily be put into the field, for active service, in the defence of the cause of loyalty to the government."

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VERY REV. JOSEPH D. MEAGHER, for years pastor of St. Louis Bertrand's Church, in Louisville, Ky., has been elected Provincial of the Order of St. Dominic in the United States, at St. Rose's, Washington County, Ky.

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The article in the Dublin Freeman's Journal, said to have been inspired by Mr. Parnell, beseeching Irishmen to remember Mr. Gladstone's difficulties, and to "be prepared to accept a reasonable compromise on our extreme rights, if a sacrifice of our principal rights be not involved," is in the true spirit. If this advice be followed, the outlook will be hopeful for Home Rule.

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The most remarkable thing about the Irish elections is the fact that not one supporter of Mr. Gladstone was elected.

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The College of the Propaganda announces that up to November 1st, in the vicariate of Cochin China, 9 missionaries, 7 native priests, 60 catechists, 270 members of religious orders and 24,000 Christians were massacred; 200 parishes, 17 orphan asylums, and 10 convents were destroyed and 225 churches were burned.

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On the occasion of the Pope's Jubilee in 1887, ten cases of beatification will be decided. Three "Beati" belonging to the Jesuits will be canonized, viz.: Blessed Bergmans, Claver, and Rodriguez. The Venerable de la Salle, Clement Hofbauer, C. SS. R., and Ines de Beningain, a Spanish nun, will be beatified.

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LORD MAYOR OF DUBLIN.—At a meeting of the Dublin Corporation, Mr. T. D. Sullivan, M.P., editor of the Nation, was elected Lord Mayor of the city for this year. Mr. Sullivan is known all over the world, wherever Irishmen congregate, by his fine and stirring humorous and pathetic ballads for the Irish people. Personally, Mr. Sullivan is a gentle and gentlemanly man, much beloved by his family and a large circle of friends. He has always preserved the high-minded and patriotic traditions of the Nation newspaper, the columns of which were enriched by many of his brilliant songs and ballads long before he succeeded his brother, the late Mr. A. M. Sullivan, as its editor. Mr. Sullivan is the father-in-law of Mr. Healy, M.P., Mr. Parnell's able lieutenant.

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THE LATE KING OF SPAIN.—A Madrid correspondent gives an account of the ceremony at the Escuriel, on the occasion of the funeral of the King of Spain. "The procession from the station," he writes, "wound slowly up the hill to the monastery. When the funeral car reached the principal door it was closed. The Lord Chamberlain knocked for admittance. A voice inside asked, 'Who wishes to enter?' The answer given was 'Alfonso XII.' The doors were then thrown open. The prior of the monastery appeared. The body was carried into the church and placed on a raised bier before the high altar. The coffin was then covered with the four cloaks of the noble orders. A thousand tapers were lighted, and the church assumed a magnificent appearance. Black hangings embossed with the arms of Spain covered the stone walls. The Mass was said and the Miserere sung. The coffin was raised once more and carried to the entrance of the stairs leading down to the vaults. No one descended there," continues the correspondent, "except the Prior, the Minister of Grace and Justice, and the Lord Chamberlain. The coffin was placed on a table in a magnificent black marble vault, in which the kings of Spain lie in huge marble tombs all around. Now came the most thrilling part of the ceremony. The Lord Chamberlain unlocked the coffin, which was covered with cloth of gold, raised the glass covering from the King's face, then, after requesting perfect silence, knelt down and shouted three times in the dead monarch's ear, 'Senor, Senor, Senor!' Those waiting in the church upstairs heard the call, which was like a cry of despair, for it came from the lips of the Duke of Sexto, the King's favorite companion. The duke then rose, saying, according to the ritual, His majesty does not answer. Then it is true, the King is dead." He locked the coffin, handed the keys to the prior, and, taking up his wand of office broke it in his hand and flung the pieces at the foot of the table. Then every one left the monastery, as the bells tolled, and the guns announced to the people that Alfonso XII. had been laid with his ancestors in the gloomy pile of Philip II.

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The Catholic committees of the north of France, assembled in Congress at Lille, have addressed to the Pope a letter of adhesion to the Encyclical, in which the whole teaching of the Papal document is recapitulated at considerable length.

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The question of submitting to arbitration the case, "Ireland vs. English Rule in Ireland," is again mooted. One man is named as arbiter. He is known as Leo XIII., whose master-piece of power and wisdom appeared in our January MAGAZINE.

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A letter from South Mayo tells that on the polling day a curious sight was the descent from the mountains of Partry of one hundred voters, mounted on hardy ponies, who arrived in a body at the polling station with National League cards in their hats.

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News from Gorey tells of a wonderful welcome given to Sir Thomas Esmonde, on his arrival at home after his election. The horses were taken from his carriage, and he was drawn by the people amidst a multitude cheering and waving hats in wild excitement. The town and surrounding hills were illuminated, and the young baronet was escorted to his residence, Ballynestragh, by bands of music and a torchlight procession, including many thousands of people. His tenants came out to meet him before he reached Ballynestragh, bearing torches, and a great display of fireworks greeted his entrance into his demesne. Sir Thomas Esmonde threw open his entire house for the night, and dancing was kept up by the tenants till morning.

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President Cleveland, in his recent message to Congress, makes allusion to the rejection of Mr. Keiley by Austria. He says: A question has arisen with the Government of Austria-Hungary touching the representation of the United States at Vienna. Having, under my constitutional prerogative, appointed an estimable citizen of unimpeached probity and competence as Minister to that Court, the Government of Austria-Hungary invited this government to cognizance of certain exceptions, based upon allegations against the personal acceptability of Mr. Keiley, the appointed Envoy, asking that, in view thereof, the appointment should be withdrawn. The reasons advanced were such as could not be acquiesced in without violation of my oath of office, and the precepts of the Constitution, since they necessarily involved a limitation in favor of a foreign government upon the right of selection by the Executive, and required such an application of a religious test as a qualification for office under the United States as would have resulted in the practical disfranchisement of a large class of our citizens, and the abandonment of a vital principle in our Government. The Austro-Hungarian Government finally decided not to receive Mr. Keiley as the Envoy of the United States, and that gentleman has since resigned his commission, leaving the post vacant. I have made no new nomination, and the interests of this Government at Vienna are now in the care of the Secretary of Legation, acting as charge d'affaires ad interem.

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INAUGURATION.—Monday, January 4, was inauguration day in the principal cities in Massachusetts. In Boston, the usual ceremonies took place. Mayor O'Brien delivered one of his best addresses. Rev. Father Welch, S.J., of the church of the Immaculate Conception, acted as chaplain on the occasion.

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Michael Davitt, in a recent interview, said: "If Home Rule is granted to Ireland, it is difficult for me to see how the Irish members can continue to sit in the parliament at Westminster, unless the colonies are similarly represented in that body. The appointment of a prince of the royal family as viceroy of Ireland would be a mistake, as Ireland requires a statesman of tact and brains to administer the government, not a royal show.

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"ONCE A CITIZEN, ALWAYS A CITIZEN," is what Bismarck says. The great Chancellor is determined to have no fooling. If a German becomes an American citizen, or a citizen of any other land, old Bis. thinks he has no business in Germany, and will not have him there. When a man runs away from his native land rather than carry arms for her protection, and flies to another country, becomes naturalized, and then returns home to make a living, the scheme is so thin that the example is dangerous. An iron-handed man knows how to deal with such cases, and he winds them up with a bounce.

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The Sacred College at present consists of 60 members, of whom 26 were created by Pius IX., and 34 by Leo XIII., and that there are 10 vacancies. Of the Cardinals 34 are Italian; 11 Austrian, German, or Polish; 5 French; 4 English or Irish; 4 Spanish, and 2 Portuguese.

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The English Catholic Directory for 1886 says there are at present in Great Britain no less than 1,575 churches, chapels, and stations; not including such private or domestic chapels as are not open to the Catholics of the neighborhood—an increase of 11 on 1884. These places of worship are served by 2,576 priests as against 2,522 last year. Since the beginning of the year 91 priests have been ordained, of whom 56 are secular and 35 regular.

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A ROSY OUTLOOK.—Chicago News: The new year dawns upon the United States as the most favored nation in the world. Business is reviving in every department. Our storehouses and granaries are full to overflowing. We are free from all foreign entanglements. The public health is good, and with reasonable care there is nothing to dread from foreign pestilence. We can look back upon 1885 with grateful hearts, and forward to 1886 with hope and confidence.

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CATHOLICS IN PARLIAMENT.—Catholics have no need to complain of the result of the elections, so far as it affects their special interest, observes the Liverpool Catholic Times. In the late House of Commons representatives of the Faith had sixty seats. In the new House they will have eighty-two. Of these, Catholic Ireland contributes seventy-nine, England two, and Scotland one. We have already commented upon the return for the Oban Division of Argyllshire of Mr. D. H. MacFarlane, who enjoys the distinction of being the first Catholic member of Parliament returned by Scotland since the so-called Reformation. English Catholics cannot, however, be congratulated upon the part they took in the electoral struggle. To the last Parliament they sent but one representative, Mr. H. E. H. Jerningham; and to that which will commence its labors in a couple of months they have returned only two—Mr. Charles Russell, Q.C., for South Hackney, and Mr. T. P. O'Connor, for the Scotland Division of Liverpool. And more than half the credit of securing the return of these two gentlemen is due to the Irish electors in this country.

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For the first time in the history of Boston a colored man has obtained a political office—he has actually received a policeman's baton. This is wonderful news, indeed, for, although Massachusetts has been prominent in denouncing the South for her treatment of the colored man, whom she has extensively favored with office, Boston, at least, has now had the first opportunity of practicing her doctrine; and let us hope that the man's name—Homer—will be classical enough to counteract her surprise.—Baltimore Catholic Mirror.

Massachusetts has done more than that for the colored race. Several of them have been elected to the general court; one has been on the bench for some time; and there are several practising lawyers in our courts. Can Maryland say as much for our colored brethren?

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THE POPE CONGRATULATED.—Emperor William of Germany and Queen Christiana of Spain have sent telegrams to Pope Leo, expressing their thanks for his services, and for his equitable decision as arbitrator in the Carolines controversy.

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OUR MAGAZINE.—This hearty notice is from Father Phelan's Western Watchman: DONAHOE'S MAGAZINE, for January, came to us last week as bright as a new shilling, much enlarged, and, as usual, overflowing with such original and interesting reading for Irish-Americans as is to be found in no other paper or magazine published on the planet. We predict for the publisher many years of prosperity to continue the good work.

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NEW ENGLAND MEN AND WOMEN are dying out, or they are not producers. Even the fisheries no longer breed American seamen for the naval service. Three-fourths of the crews that man the fishing fleets are Portuguese, Spaniards and Italians.

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Boston Herald:—Ireland would be better fixed politically, if its condition should be made like a State in our Union, rather than like a province the same as Canada. Canada has no representation in the imperial Parliament. Great Britain ought to have a Parliament for imperial purposes, with representatives from her dependencies, and another for her local affairs. It has long been apparent that the British Parliament cannot properly consider both general and local matters.

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It appears that the reported wholesale boycotting of Irish workingmen in England stated in a dispatch of the New York Sun to have been resolved upon at a meeting of a Liberal Club, was entirely without foundation in fact, not even heard of at the National Liberal Club or at the London Office of the Freeman's Journal, the chief Nationalist organ.

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PARNELLITE MEETING.—A day or two before the opening of the new Parliament this month, a general meeting of the Irish parliamentary party, including as many of the Nationalist members as are then in London, will be held at the Westminster Palace Hotel, when, it is stated in London Nationalist circles, a definite course of parliamentary action will be decided upon, and the Parnellite programme for the session will be finally adopted, subject only to such deviations as the exigencies of the political situation may render admissable and desirable. In the event of a short adjournment of the House, after the election of the speaker and the swearing in of the members, it is understood that the January meeting of the Irish parliamentary party referred to will be adjourned to the day previous to that on which the business of the House will begin about the usual date in February.

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HOUSE OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD.—The new house is progressing favorably, and is nearly under roof. There will be a lecture in aid of the building on Sunday evening, January 17. Hon. Mr. Keiley, lately appointed Minister to Italy and Austria, will deliver the lecture. Subject: The Present Prospects of Irish Freedom. The lecture will take place at the Boston Theatre. Tickets, 75, 50, and 35 cents. The announcement of so interesting a subject, and the fame of the lecturer should fill the house to overflowing. His Honor, Mayor O'Brien, will preside.

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OUR MAGAZINE.—Notre Dame Scholastic: With the January number, DONAHOE'S MAGAZINE begins its fifteenth volume. It is an interesting and instructive periodical, and deserves well of the reading public. The "Memoir of His Eminence John Cardinal McCloskey," by Dr. John Gilmary Shea, which appears in the present number, is a priceless memento of our first American prince of the Church, and imparts valuable information concerning some points of the early history of the Church in our country. Besides, there is a collection of readable articles, which it would take too long to name. The editor promises still greater attractions for the new volume, and we sincerely hope his enterprise will meet with all the encouragement it so well deserves. The MAGAZINE is published at Boston, Mass.