s ' HQLERA II .RUSSIA. riio People of the Yolga Liye . in a "Way That IiiTites i .. . . the ureal mgne. iHEffi POOD INDIGESTIBLE. Fatrid Fish, Wilted encumbers and ' Bread That Is Like Clay. CENSORSHIP OP THE PEESS. Dow Objectionable Articles Are Blotted Out With Indelible Ink. PICTURES GOBBLED FROM THE H1ILS fconnEsroxoEvct onni nisrATcn.1 ST. PETERSBURG, Aug. 14. HE skeleton ot the cholera now hangs over Russia, and the reports of the horrors of its rav ages along the low er Volga are brought here daily. They are kept oat of the newspapers as far as possible, and it is not known to . just what extent the nlagne ha3 spread, out there is no doubtthat the whole of the Volga regions will be devastated by it, and, in order to understand its dangers, it is necessary to know the char acter of the country and the life of the people. The Volga is a? wide as the Mississippi. It is. 2,300 miles Ion; and it has as great a trade us any river in the world. It flows through a flat country and the lower half passes through an almost treeless region. Upon these great plains the hot sun of the tropics is beating down now with relentless vigor. There is absolutely no protection irom it, and the women go abont with noth ing but handkerchiefs on their heads, and children boil their brains under the sun's burning rays, with no protection what soever. The men wear heavy caps, and the liouses are so built that they are like bake ol ens at this time of the year. n Sanltaty Provisions at All. At Kazan and Samara I saw hundreds upon hundreds of half-naked men lying on the roadside and sleeping with this tropical sun beating down upon them and with the smells of decaving vegetable matter all about them. S a rat off has a system of water works, but most of these Volga cities have no camtary arrangements whatsoever, and the illae ol Russia ihich possesses a water closet is one of a thousand. The peasants, among whom the cholera is the worn, have absolutely no knowledge of the rule. or health, and their diet and habits would naturally breed the cholera and can not but increase it. Their favorite soup is raa-ie of green cabbages, and old men and babies eat this by the gallon. They eat carrots, and oue ot the chief articles which you find peddled everyw here and which is consumed in large quantities is the green cucumber, which is eaten raw, just as it comes from the vine, or, more often, after ' it has become wilted and stale from lying I about under the hot sun. In the provinces just above Saratofi a 'great deal of famine "bread is still used. I skw some of this stuff while I was on the V"lga and it would be the ruin of any man whose bowels were at all delicate. Its sur face is of a dirtv cray, and when you break it open you find that its inside is "of a deep brown. It is salty and sandy, and tastes more like clay than bread. It looks as though it were "made of bran and husks, and it is as gritty as the apples of Sodom. There ere thousands ot people who are eat ing this bread to-day, and while I was on A Iluutm A etc Tender. the Volga I found them ready to devour anything. Dr. Hubbell, the American Red Cros Societv agent, was with me, and in speaking of the corn which was spoiled in crossing the water he told the relief people that it could be dried and used for the cat tle. They replied that they were drying it end using it to teed the peasants and that raoti of it would do Tery welL IMmI With nr llork Beside Hsr. The natural condition of these people is bad beyond 'esc:iption, and I was shown to-day a reminescence ot the cholera in the hape oi a pnotograph of the interior of a hut on the Volga Betide a loom, in which was the hali-fiuished cloth that the woman had been w eating nhen she was taken sick, lay a rude bench, and on this a young mother of SO stoue dead. Hanging from the rafter in one of these Russian cradles was a little baby. whoe bald head peeped out of the clothes in which she was wrapped and whose bright eyes, I was told, twinkled a? the picture was taken. One of the most offensive smells along the Volga is that of putrid fish. Nearly every other wharf has great crates of this packed away, and you see peasants walking aboi i tlie streets peddling dried fish, which thev have upon strings and which they carr about swung over their shoulders. The innst of these fish come from Astrak han, which is at the mouth of the Volga and in winch is one of the greatest fish markets of the world. It is here that the greater part of the caviare of the world is made. It comes from the roe of the sturgeon, and millions of dollars' worth of It are shipped from this point every year. Millions more are male in the dried fish which are kent over Russia, and the people at Astrakhan live on little else than fish. The poorer of them eat the refuse, and this has aggravated the cholera there and the cases are rapidly increasing. The fish which are shipped from Astrakhan are often not more than half cured and ther are in a bad condition when they are sold to the peasants. They are eaten half cooked and as little care is taken to keep them clean they form about as indigestible an article of diet as can be found. Th i.riMd llmon Enongh to Kill. The better class bread used by the peas- Jlit Yffi& Wtfff&, jF,A,&M MA 5C.'S. Km&$m& tT'!&s&&$ MiIll SM11 ' ants of Russia would ruin the stomach of i an ordinary man, and its roughness is such that it cannot be but injurious to a patient j who has a tendency toward cholera. It is i as heavy as Boston brown bread and it . looks io"t unlike it. It is made in loaves of twenty-one pounds each and the average loat ot bread eaten along the Volga is as big as a ten-months-old babv. Living on bread, cabbage soup. cucunibers and dried fish, with now and then a bit ot cheap meat, the people have not enough strength ening food to ward off the cholera. Their systems are already run down by the famine and the sun is wilting the life out of them. They know nothing of the use of medicines and'thetr home life is such that it is almost impossible to keep the cholera from spread ing. I can easily see how one cholera case spreads the disease throughout the village. The man who first gets the disease probably belongs to a large family. This family in habits one of these little, hot, thatched huts and a dozen men, women and children are huddled together within it They sleep side by side on one bed, which is usually the top of the stove, or lie sprawled out close together upon tt e floor. They wear the same clothes day and night, and if there are cholera germs" in any one of the gar ments of a family these are bound to be communicated to tlie others. If the cholera is slow in manifesting itself, the patient may move around about the other people of the village. The work of the villagers done in gangs, and one man must come in contact with all the others. The result is that the disease must spread, and the only wonder is that it is not greater than it is. V. lur- tl Disease First Broke Oa, It wa at Saratofi that the reports about the cholera were first sent out over the world. I spent several days in this city just before the news of its presence was FEOM AN HISTORIC made known and it probably existed at the time I was there. Saratofi is in the south eastern part of Russia, about 800 miles south of Nijni Novgorod and 700 or 800 miles from Moscow. It lies right on the Volga and it is surrounded by a rolling country, the hills of which rise up back of the city and on the top of which there stands a long line of great windmills, which swing their arms against the hot blue sky. There is a deep ravine running through the city, and dividing it in three parts and coming to the city from the river it looks both picturesque and beautiful. It is a very fair Russian town an 1 is better bnilt and better looking than the average cities of the Volga. It has abont 1,200 peonle, has a good theater and a number of fine churches, some of which belong to the Germans. It is one of the centers of the German colonies of Russia and you find that nrarly every other man in the town speaks German as well as Russian. The buildings are as a. rule of stucco. The streets are paved with cobble stones and the town is lighted with gas. It is, on the whole, much cleaner than any of the other Volga cities that I visited, and it seems strange that the cholera should hare first broken out here. I understand that the people are leaving in large num bers and those that remain are almost frightened to death. The town has had con siderable experience with the cholera in the past and nearly every great cholera epi demic of history has rested during its march through Russia at Saratofi TTae ringan Comes From Asia Minor. With the increased facilities for com munication diseases of this kind spread more rapidly than ever before. The hot bed of the cholera seems to be Asia Minor, Persia and the regions along the Trans Caspian Railroad. The great cholera epi demic ot 1823 came from this region and ex tended into Asiatic Russia. The cholera of 1830 first manifested itself in Persia, and it got its start on the shores of the Caspian Sea. It crept up the Volga just as this cholera is doing, and it ravaged the Russian Empire and during the lollowing year spread over Europe and wrapped its disease spreading arms around England, Prance and Germany. Thence it went into Spain and Italy, and finally came over to North America. Nearly every cholera of history has come from the trans-Caspian re gion, and though Russia is doing all it can to keep it down it is impossible to tell whether she will succeed. Down at Astrak han the people are dying by the dozens every week and there are, I am told, in the neighborhood of 100 cholera cases in that city. It is through this town that all Paris ian travelers must come, and a rigid quaran tine is enforced. The officials on the trans Caspian road inspect all passengers and a careful examination is being made at the different cities. At the present writing, however, the peo ple are suffering from the lack of doctors, and there is practically no medical service in connection with the Russian villages. During the typhus fever and the famine the most ot the prescriptions were made by private citizens, and the care of the sick was largely by w ell-to-do people, who did the work tor charity's sake. Reports from the cholera districts are so unreliable that it is impossible to tell just to how great an extent it exists. There are said to be a few cases in the hospital at Moscow, but so far none nave manifested themselves here, and the disease seems to be confined to the Volga. Itottn Wood Filled VI 1th Disease The sanitary arrangements of Moscow and St Petersburg might be improved upon. It is not that the streets and the houses are not keptclean enough, for they are as well cared for in this respect as those of any othar cities of the world. The police have charge of the sanitary arrangements and if a man does not keep the roadway in front of bis house clean or allows any nuisance to re main about his premises he is liable to find himself in jail, and if he is a storekeeper his shop may be ordered shut for a period of some mouths, as the authorities decide. The great trouble is the lack of good water works, and as to the sanitary building of the houses neither St Petersburg nor Moscow has the best of drainas-e. and this "city ol St Petersburg, as cool as it often is in the summer, is built upon a marsh, and its night air is filled with noxious vapors. The authorities are always fixing the streets and the Neviski Prospect has been torn up during a great part oi my stay In Russia. About one-halt of this street is paved with great round blocKs ot wood. These are watered twice a day and the moist air of the sea makes the wood rot quickly, and this rotten wood, packed full of the foul ele ments which it has gathered during years, is now thrown up under the sun to dry. It is no wonder that fashionable St Peters burg moves almost bodily into the country in the summer and that the city has a high death rate. Speaking of the cholera, I picked up the Berliner TaaeUalt this morning and looked to see wnat the Uerman reports of the Russian cholera were. I found nothing in it, but on the first page were two big black blotches which effectually stamped tut printed m&t- THE PITTSBURG ter out of at least a column of the newspaper. This was probably the news concerning the cholera', and it is a fair example of the state in which the foreign newspapers oome into Russia. Kb reports concerning the cholera which are not approved by the Government are allowed to be read here. Every paper is carefully examined and anything which the censors "do not like is stamped out. This is so with all newspapers, and such magazines and books as are admitted olten have pages torn from them, and there is no suoh thins as a free press in Russia, The papers here receive instructions from the Government as to just what they shall publish. 11 amines That Mean Business. If they do not follow out these instruc tions they receive first a warning. If they offend again this warning is repeated, and at the third offense the paper is suspended. Three such warnings always result in the abolition of the newspaper. The warnings may be years apart and they may be caused by the mistakes of cheap reporters or care less proofreaders, but the paper loses its standing and at the third warning its ex istence. Its editor is also liable to im prisonment, and the result is that there is no such thing as tree thought in Russia. The most ridiculous things are prohibited from publication, and nothing concerning the Czar is ever published. During a large part of the time I have been in Russia the Czar has been visiting in Denmark. He met the German Emperor there and the European papers have been full of gossip concerning him. Every line of this has been blacked out, whether it came from the London Timet or in the way of witty remarks from the FOtgmcU Blatter, and a large part of the famine news has been handled in this same way. I hare before me a list of subjects which were handed over to the press during a single year some time ago, but they will hold equally well CHOLERA. PHOTOOBAPH. to-day. One of them states that nothing on tho Hebrew question is to published. An other prohibits anothing concerning the as sassination of a Russian general whose death was full of romance, and a third pro hibits the saying of anything abou. the church schools. The Church and the Gov ernment, in fact, control tho press in Russia and the censor is a bigger man than the editor. I wish I could show you one of these papers which have been signed by the cen sor. They look as though an ink roller had been run over them, and it is impossible to read a word of that which has been stamped out They use an indelible ink, and they haue changed the quality of their ink lately. A lady whom I met In East Russia told me she used to be able to get the ink offby washing it with turpentine, and that the print would then be readable, but that within the past year she found the ink of a different character, and she could do noth ing with it The uncertainty of matter passing the censors makes all printed mat ter unsafe in the Russian malls. The Censors Seem to Like Plctnrps. The censors are said to often keep the pa pers and lend them to their friends before sending them to the people to whom they are addressed, and I was told at Moscow that a journal with anv illustrations in it was almost sure to be lost in the mails. The Christmas numbers of the London Graphic, the lUtutrated London A'raa and papers of that kind which have chromos or litho graphs with their letter press, seldom reach the bands of their subscribers without these being stolen by the postoffice employes, and I am told it is unsafe to send photographs through the mail without registering them. I am sending all my photographs to America in United States consular envelopes and am registering everything, and so far 1 think that everything has gone through. The consular stamp is a good thing to have on your letters when you send them out from here. They then appear to come from the legation, and even a Russian mail clerk will think twice before he opens the letters sent out by an American diplomat I don't think that the papers that come to our consul general here are ever opened, and he gets all sorts of newspapers, includ ing many which are not permitted to come to ordinary people in Russia. There are in fact only a few newspapers which are per mitted to come into Russia, and the only American daily which is sure of going through the mails every time Is the New York Merdld. Softened by the Famine Contributions. The newspaper censorship as to the Amer ican newspapers is becoming less rigorous since the kindness of the Americans as to the famine, and I have received quite a number of American newspapers. When I came into Russia some weeks ago I had quite a number of newpapers clippings from American newspapers about Russia, and I feared that these would be taken from me at the frontier. A number ol them related to the Czar and others were about nihilism and the Siberian prisons. Owing to a letter which I had from one of the Russian diplo mats of Europe, I got these through with out examination and my trunk was not even opened. Speaking of the blacking out of articles by the censors, a funny instance occurred when the young Grand Duke made his re cent tour in India. The London Graphic came to St Petersburg with a black mark upon it as big as a sheet of note paper, and one of its subscribers who wondered what this important obliteration might mean cut this page out of the Graphic and sent it back to the office, asking them to tear the page from another copy and send it to her through the mails. It was sent, and the obliterated picture was merely a photo graph of a tiger hunt in which the Grand Duke was standing with other hunters about the body of a dead tiger. The Graphic thought the "blotting of this so ridiculous that in its next issue it republished the sketch and also the fac-simileof the blotted paper. This came to the eyes of the Czar and he laughed at ic and ordered that this conv of the Graphic should be admitted, and it was admitted and all St. Petersburg laughed with the Czar. With such restrictions it is impossible to mate good newspapeis, and none of the newspapers here make very mush money. The dailies are published without illustra tions and the pages of them look as though the Greek alphabet had gone on a drunk and sprawled overaround them. There are in the whole empire less than five daily journals, and the telegraph bills of the whole of them are not as great as those of a big New York newspaper. Nearly every paper pub lishes a continued story, which runs along the bottom of the paper, and few of them have many advertisements. A curious feature of Moscow and St Petersburg are the police journals. These belong to the police organization and they give lull reports of the doings of the police and of all acts relating to the city. The people are bulldozed into taking them, or rather they fear that It may not be comfort able for them if they do not take them, and the result is that they have good subscrip tion lists and paying subscribers. "Fba-sx Q. OABnxm dispatch." IS THE UPPER ROOM. The Events of That Historic Even ing With the Savior at the Table. HIS EXAMPLE OP UNSELFISHNESS. The Mate Selection of Judas u the One Who Should Betray Him. A SERH0N BY REV. GEORGE HODGES nrBiTTrNKm tiix disfatch.i As the apostles were taking their places at the table in the Upper Room, the old contention arose again among them as to which of them was the greateit Every one of them wanted the place of honor near the Master. The apostels have lived for three years with Jesus Christ and even yet are not ideal Christians. There is .probably no word that gets more of the Christian religion into its sylables than the word "unselfishness." Jesust came to be not only the supreme ex ample of unselfishness, but to drive self seeking out of the heart of man. His whole life was given ua to the service of humanity. He obtained nothing for him self, asked nothiug for himself, nor is there any sign lhat he ever so much as thought about his own comfort He came not to be ministered unto, but to minister. ''I am amohg you," he said in the Upper Room, "as one that servelh." He was always thinking about other people; Absolutely TJnielflf b. Brothrrllneas. The most part of the teaching of Jesus was directed to the inspiring and encourag ing of this spirit of absolutely unselfish brotherliness. It is remarkable, in looking over the record of what He said, to see how very little of ecclesiastical or even doc trinal instruction He gave. He was always trying to make us brotherly. In His ser mons, in His parables, in His miracles, this was His theme and His purpose. The dis tinctive quality of the religion of Christ which makes it different from all other re ligions, and more true, and high, and divine, than any is this insistence upon unselfishness. There is nothing like it any where. Not only are we to do to others as we would have them do to us, not only are we to love our neighbor as ourself, but we are to love one another as Jef us Christ loved us. That is the Christian ideal of conduct It is evident how there is no place here for self-seeking and pushing ahead of our neighbor and getting the best seat The apostles in the upper room showed them selves most defective and unworthy Chris tians. Wanted tbe Apostles to Grow. This was partly because selfishness is so de-ply ingrained in our human nature. And partlv, also, because Jesus did not lorce his teaching even upon his own apostles. He wanted them to grow. He taught them patiently, over and; over, the great truths which he desired to get into their lives. And he gave them plenty of time to think about these great truths, and assimilate them, and so to make them really their own. Jesus did not hurry the apostles. He knew very well that spintnal growth Is a slow process, and needs time. He was will ing to wait He knew the teacher must repeat his lesson olten. He never lost his patience with these slow blundering disci ples. Here is encouragement for us. We, too, after all these centuries of Christian teach ing, are blundering scholars and most im perfect Christian. We have not learned much better than the apostles this supreme lesson of unselfishness. We are still jeal ous of our own interests, tenacious of our own rights, desirous of our own way, re gardless of the feelings of our neighbors. We have not even yet brought to an end that old contention as to which of us is the greatest. Half of the disputes which in terrupt the peace of our Christian lives hinge upon this. This scene in the npper room is re-enaated tiroes out of number every day. And through all, Jesus is still divinely patient, willing to wait a little longer till we gro t more into the Christian spirit, and not angry with us only very sorry for us. .' n Arlntocracy Wot Ypt Rpallz'd. He does not reprove them in the upper room. Patiently and carefully He teaches the old forgotten lesson over again. First in words which they may this time remem ber, and then by a symbolio action which they cannot help remembering, he teaches the real meaning of greatness and the right kind of ambition. "The kings of the earth have lordshin over them, and thev that have authoritv over them are called bene factors. But ye shall not be so; but he that is the greater among yon, let him become as the younger; and he that is chief as he that doth serve." How close that touches us in our social distinctions and ambition! What a new sort of aristocracy, unrealized yet, is here set forth as the true aristocracy. We have had, and still have, a definition of the best in human society in terms of birth. We have had, and still have, a definition of the best in human society in terms of wealth. But the Lord Jesus Christ's definition of the best is in terms of service. They have long been accounted noble who are min istered to by hosts of servants. But they are really noble, Jesus says, who minister to hosts of masters. Not what is done for us makes us great, but what we do -tor other. They only belong to the Christian aristocracy who are ot pre-eminett use in the world. These are the princes in the kingdom of God. The Master In lllo Role of Menial. And then Jesus takes a towel and girds himself like a servant, and, having a basin of water in His hand, begins to wash the feet of His disciples. He 'washes the feet of Peter, who will presently deny Him, and of Judas, who will presently betray Him, and of all the others, who will presentlv forsake Him in His hour of peril and will flee away. And when He has washed their feet and has sat down again at the table, He asks them, "Know ye what I have done to you? Ye call me Master and Lord, and ye say well, fdr so I am. If I then, the Lord and Master, have waahed your feet ye also ought to wash one an other s teet. This was partly a lesson in humility. There Is no place in all the Christian re ligion for any dignity; or remoteness of so cial station, or any difference between peo ple, which interferes with the doing of kind deeds. Tbe old degradation which be longed to the word "servant" disappears whenever Christianity gets wholly into the hearts of men and women. The Christian watches for opportunities of service. We ought all to be servants, the best ot us serv ing the most Somethinz Mora Than TJnmlllly. Partly, also, this was a lesson in brotherly treatment of each other's faults. It is evi dent from what our Lord said to Peter that something more than humility was intended to be taught "So he come'th to Simon Peter. He saith unto him: 'Lord, dost Thou wash my feet?' Jesus answered and said unto him: 'What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter. Peter saith unto Him: Thou shalt never wash my feet' Jesus answered him, 'It I wash the not thou hast no part with me.' Simon Peter saith unto him: 'Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head.' Jesus saith him, 'He'hat is bathed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all.'" We are to put the kindest construction that we can upon the faults of others. We are to account them only as the dust that stained tbe feet of those who walked in sandals along the Syrian road. The whole man is not bad. There is need only for a washing of tbe feet . We ought to wash each other's ftt That li, ire ought to be kindest tad soft. SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 4j x. loving with our neighbor when he falls into temptation. There is a great deal in the New Testament 'about dealing with other people when they are in fault We are not told to overlook the fault But we are told to do all that we can to help our brother out of it Commonly we turn our back upon him. Nobodv needs good friends so much as a sinner. We ought to try to help each other; cot to talk, not to criticise, not to condemn, but to help. Inf imy of thi Unman llenrr. But "you are not all clean." "Verily, verily I say unlo you that one of you shall betray Me.'" And they all began to be sor rowful, and to ask Him one after another, "Lord, is it 1?" No man feels sure of himself. Indeed, there is no end to the possibilities of in famy in the human heart The 12 feel that any one of them may even turn traitor. A black foreboding overshadows them; the luture is dim, uncertain- and foreboding; something is to happen, strange, dreadful, tragic, overwhelming. Every man in that little company distrusts himself. Perhaps HisL ' Sometimes it seems as if goodness means little more than the absence of strong temp tation. We are respectable people becausa it has been easier for us to be respectable than not Our disraspectable brothers and sisters wnose names are read out in ponce courts are really the same sort of people that we are, except that they have been more sorely tempted than we have been. The best of us cannot take very muoh credit to ourselves for, our goodness. It we had lived where these brothers and sisters of ours live would we have any cleaner hands or any cleaner hearts than they have? Who dares answer ves? "Lord, Is it I?" Am I the traitor? There is a possibility of basest treachery even in the hearts of saints. No Condemnation for Judas. The apostles never, so far as we know, carsed or reviled Judas. The storv of the betrayal is set down simply and briefly as possible. Thus he did and thus he died. But there is no self-religious outcry against him; no sentence of condemnation is pro nounced upon mm,, except sucn as uesus spoke Himself. He Kent to his own place they said, speaking of his death. The apostles never called down any anathemas upon the head of Judas. They knew their own hearts too well lor that. They had sins enough of their own to repent ot. They had that charity for their brother's crime which comes to one who knows how he, too, might have been a criminal. They knew that when they 'questioned, "Is it I?" any one of them might have been answered, "Yes." There are two considerations that deter the soul from sin: One is a knowledge of punishment, the other is a knowledge of love. Jesus brings both of these to bear upon Judas. "Woe unto that man by whom the Son ot Man is betrayed." "It would have been good for that man if he bad not been born." Judas listened. He knew who the betrayer was. The plot had all been made and lacked now but a few hours of fulfillment Jesus admonishes him of retribution. Tho OfTrnSA Aejalnst Invr. And then He takes the "sop;" that Is, a bit of the paschal lamb, with unleavened bread and bitter herbs, and Himself gives it to Judas. This was a mark of affection. In spite of all, Jesus loved Judas. That must have touched his heart more than the pro phecy of punishment The worst thing about sin is that it is an offense against love. It is something that we do, not against anv angry despot, but against a loving Father. Yet Judas holds to his plan of treachery. There is a moment in the commission of sin when the sinner gets within reach of that strange law which transforms sight into blindqess and hearing into deafness. See ing, he sees not; and hearing, he hears not. He goes straight on in utter defiance of his own protests. There are voices calling "Thou shalt not," but he refuses to regard them. He has hardened his heart Judas bad hardened his heart. There is only one thing that Jesus will not do with Judas. He will not coerce him. He will not compel him against his will. God will do a great deal to deter ns from sin. He will warn us; He will assure us ot His love. But He will not prevent us from sinning. God sets no value upon any automatic goodness. He cares not at all for virtue that has no alternative. He wants us to be loyal to Him because we want to be loyal. He would have our good ness tq be the sincere expression of our real desire. God will never compel us to be good. Judas may betrav his Master. No legion of angels will arrest him. In BrmtmbfARCs or Him So the traitor rises from the table. "What thou doest, do quickly," Jesus says. The apostles, who are much more ready each one to suspect himself than to suspect each other, think that this is some errand ot charity. So he goes out The open door shows black night outside. "And as they were eating He took bread, and when He had blessed, He brake it, and gave it to them and said: Take ye; this is My body.' And He took a cup, and when He had given thanks He gave to them; and they all drank of it And He said unto them: 'This is My blond of the covenant, which is shed for many."' 'This they were to do in remembrance of Him. Jesus desired to be remembered. This was no doubt, in part, because He knew it would do us good to remember Him. We remember Him for the sake of our own character. We keep His words in mind, and His life of self-sacrifice, and His death of self-renouncing love, and we are helped. The thought of the ideal man makes us, too, long to be men. The death of Jesus, which is here specially commemorated, has been the inspiration oi the saint from that night ever since. How many trials have been borne patiently, how much pain has been endured without repining, how many hard tasks have been taken up and carried on in spite of persecution and in the face of martyrdom, in the strength of the memory of that broken body and that shed blood I I.ove Longs for Remembrance. And yet was it altogether for our sake that Jesus desired to be remembered? Was the purpose wholly practical, entirely utilitarian? Was it not for His sake also? He loved those companions of His. whom He had made His friends. He loves us whom He knows as well as He knew them. And He wanted to be remembered. Love longs for remembrance He was not willing that we, for whom He gave His life, should go about our tasks and pleasures, and never think of Him. The meaning of the sacra ment is not only ethical It is the sacra ment of love. They did not understand very much abont it, the're in the Upper Room. They did not realize what that breaking of His body and that shedding ot wis blood meant .Neither do we realize it. Close as we may get to day to that cross of Calvary, we do not re alize it. We say the words over, "He died forme." "He suffered and died for me," yet we still stand afar off. And we are al most as contused in our minds as the apos tles. We come to the sacrament doubtful what it means. Fragments ot ecclesiastical controversies, of theological disputations, are scattered about in our memories. One says that he sacrament is this, another says it is that Here it is set forth on a plain table, in the midst of the most simple of services, as it was at the beginning. There it is offered on an altar, amidst the glimmer of candles and the smoke ot incense, in jeweled vessels of gold and silver covered over with embroidered cloths, and tbe service is fall of singing and intoning, and priests and people bow their heads and their knees. And we know not what to think. Inexhaustible Opportunities for Thought. The truth is that the deep words and acts of Jesus Christ offer inexhaustible oppor tunities for thought The profoundest theologian does not know all that was meant to be taught in the Lord's Supper. The devoutest saint has not touched the limit of Christian emotion. Let us think our own thoughts. Certain it is, that as we grow in years and in grace, this blessed sacrament comes to mean more to us. Because Jesus Christ means more to us. We may be sure that we are thinking along the right line If we are thinking more and more ot Him. We love Him for His love. "We love Him because He first lored us." Qsoxax Hasan. 1893. ART WORK, OF JAPAN. Eli Perkins at tho Shops Where the World's Finest Ware Is Made. THE HIGHEST WAGES IS $1 25 While 1'anj lien Work for Ten Cents a Daj and Some for Their lice. BEAUTIES FOR THE WORLD'S FUR rroRBzsroNDSvcx or ibi dispatch Kioto, Japan, Aug. 6. The supreme pleasure of an American traveling in Japan is the lovely welcome given to him by the Japanese people. Everywhere high and low open to him their hearts. They will never forget how, in 1854, Perry first opened their sealed port of Yeddo, not with grape and canister, as the English opened Shanghai, but with love and champagne. They will never forget how their first Japan ese Embassy fell into our outstretched arms at Sad Francisco and was fated from, ocean to ocean, and how little Japanese Tommy was allowed to fall in love with every golden haired Yankee girl whoe hind he touched in the grand chain of dances from San Francisco to Boston. To-day at Kioto, this cultured seat of Japanese learning, while visiting Cloisonne and Bronze factories, the bare meqtion of America has opened every door from the Mikado's old palace and the Shogun Castle to the cottages of the Kioto potters sitting cross-legged at their wheels. The first pot tery I visited was that of the old Kioto pot ter, Kinkozan. His pottery covers about half an acre. It consists of one-storv build ings in the midst of gardens, lakes, flowers, picturesque rocks and miniature brooks. These back yards are little parks, and one ot the beauties of Japan. The poorest workmen always have them. Mr. Kinko zan tells me that they have about ceased to make the old Kioto ware. "The Americans," he said, "demand .something more showy and brilliant So the new ware called Awata nas taKen its place. It is not porcelain, but simply white clay, baked, glazed, painted and gilded. It is a cheap gaudy ware, but the people want it, and America is taking ship loads of it" The gaudy cheap vases seen in evcrj porcelain sellers' window in America is this cheap Awata ware. It is made from sim ilar clay to that used by the Rockwood pot tery of Cincinnati only it is white. It is as porous as terra cotta until glazed. Here were hundreds of men, girls and boys squatted in little rooms decorating the big vases which they held in their laps. They worked in teams, Yankee style. One man would cut in trees or faces, another paint clouds and another gild. It was all quick work and cheap, the decorators getting about 15 cents per day. They all sang or hummed sweet symphonies while they worked. The room they sat in was, like a pagoda, open to the garden all around. And such a garden! The shrub bery had been growing 200 years all dwarfed and trimmed into fantastic shapes. "This old pine tree," said the potter, pointing to a gnarled pine tree about 10 feet high, "was planted by my ancestors 300 years ago. My grandfather planted this palm and made this little pebbly brook, and my father trimmed this Wisteria vine and copied it onto his vases." "But do yon never change the garden?" I asked. "Never. The same trees, the same old well, the same rocks, the same cherry blos soms always. We trim it every year to keep it as our ancestor left it The garden is oar live curio." Then our jimlksha man wheeled us np to Ikeda's bronze and cloisonne factory. Out side it was a private one-story cottage with no sign. We stooped dowu and crawled through a wicket gate into a garden 6 feet wide and 12 fedt long. In this were a thousand varieties of dwarfed shrubs and plants. At the end of the yard was a little open portico on which were cloisonne vases and curios. The floor was covered with mats and we had to remove our shoes. On two sides of the porticos were open screen windows, giving us a view ot another little Japanese garden. This garden was perhaps 20 feet square a typical garden seen in the rear of almost every house in Japan. In the.center was a little lake with fish. Standing in the lake were big and lit tle bronze storks. Then there were lagged rocks, a rustic bridge, a tew graceful bam boos, dwarfed pines and cherry trees and at one end a nigh climbing Wisteria. There were little woods where a baby could hide and two towering palmettoes. It was Sebenley Park minified a million times. There was a green and blue beach tree grow ing from the same trunk. "My great-grandfather grafted it a hun dred years ago," said Mr. Ikedas, clasping bis hand reverentially. "Sometimes we think our father's and grandfathers' spirits hover in the trees they planted." Looking out on this beautiful garden, sit cross legged the great bronze, cloisonne and lacquer artists ot Japan. One was pound ing out a bronze incense burner. I say pounding out because almost all tho smaller Japanese vases are pounded out If a piece of bronze is cast it is done so crudely that it has to be finished with the mallet The bronze finisher js the real artist who with a chisel and mallet makes the perfect bronze. I caw them making big bronzes in Tokio. , The object to be made was first moulded in bees wax. This wax object was covered with rough plaster. When dry the wax was melted out and the mould run full ot bronze metal. When cold the plaster was knocked off with a mallet 'This piece of bronze," said Mr. Idekas, pointing to the incense burner, "is tor the Chicago Fair if I can get it done in time. You know Japan is to make a $3,000,000 ex hibit, and all our best bronze, lacquer; ivory and porcelain artists are at work. "Is this man a noted artist?" I asked, pointing to a veuerable-looking man at work on the incense burner. "Yes, it is Kaishi. Everybody knows of him in Japan. He works years on a piece and we pay him well, but.he cares more for glory than money." "How muoh do you pay him?" "A dollar a day. Many workmen work for 10 cents, and these assistants around him work for their rice," and he pointed to several young men making pieces g'ood enough for a museum. Think of it, an ar tist pounding out original bronze figures of surpassing beauty for his ricel "This laquer artist," said Ikedas, "can do the best laquer work in Japan, equal to any of tbe ancient workmen." "And you pay him how much?" "O, the highest waes in Japan 1 25 a day." "This old laquer cabinet," continued Ikedas pointing to a gold laquer cabinet about four feet square, "is worth $10,000 and this man can reproduce it, but the new one would sell for 5200. Mr. Heber Bishop, a New York connoisseur, paid 55,000 for an antique gold laquer cabinet to-day. They are very rare." At another place a man was at work on a superb cloisonne vase for Chicago. It was IS inches high. "I have been at work on it a year,'' he said, "and may'not get it there in time, but I'm working night and day." One workman was making a silver cloisonne tea set to be the chef d'oeuvres of Japanese art at the fair. The men who make these works of art are all so patient, polite, temperate and re ligiousl No scolding, no conimandhit, but all working in perfect love and harmony. Sweet is the civilization of Japan! Eli Perkins. First Lesion for thn Blind. The Gospel of St. Mark's printed on raised letters at Philadelphia in November, 1833, was the stepping stone to the educa tion of the blind. It was printed in the old French type, invented by Hauv, bat now Roman letters (without capitals, to save space) are used, and the Bible is printed in eight volumes, eaoh a little larger than i-Wbitx'i unabridged dlctionarjh A History of the Great Explorer ESPECIALLY FOR WBITTBN ITOB THE DISPATCH BY L. H. WEEKS AND PAUL LATZKE Copyrighted, 1892. by the Aothors.J CHAPTER IV. Late one afternoon, toward the close of the year 1483, a man of middle age and a little boy were walking wearily along the lonely road that led from Palos, a small sea port in Adalusia, Spain, to the Franciscan Convent of La Rabida, that is hard by. The travelers were dusty and tired. They had come a long distance, and the condition ot their clothing and their shoes showe'd their poverty. The man was sad and thoughtful, and walked as if heavily burdened, al though he carried only a staff in his hand. The boy was more lively, and seemed to take an interest in what was about him. Now he would skip about in the grass by the roadside, and again he would trudge along sedately, holding the hand ofhis elder companion. Thus Christopher Columbus and bis son Diego were making their way Into Spain. It had been a year since they had left Portugal, and that time they had spent in Genoa. Now they were going to the home of a relative who would take care of Diego while his father was besieging kings to help him on toward his discoveries. La Rabida was only half a league distant from Palos. Situated on a hill it com manded a sight of the sea as fars the eye could reach to the south and to the north was the broad and fertile plain stretching miles and miles away. A few trees and a vineyard were near it, and there was a re freshing air of coolness and comfort iu its white walls. A long silence between the two travelers was broken by the younger. His complaint was the not uncommon one with healthful bo vs. "Father, I'm hungry," he said. "Have you a bit of bread iu your wallet?" "No, my son," ansnered the other. 'There is nothing left But perhaps we may be able to find food and shelter in yonder monastery." Tbe boy who had heard with dismay that the wallet was empty brightened "at the suggestion that relief might be at hand and exclaimed: "Why, of course the good fathers of the monastery will be glad to do that for us when you tell them who you are and what great things you are going to do some day." At this display ot youthful confidence a sad smile played across the face of. the father as he answered: "Ah, my boy, happy are yon that have, not yet learned by bitter experience to dis trust all men. But we will try what the monastery mar do for us." And he added bitterly, "at least a crust of bread and a cup of water." The two walked on in silence again until they reached the monastery door. There they dropped upon the stone seat and were refreshed by the shade and the salt sea breeze blowing over the hilltops. The boy, impatient, rang the bell, and when the porter appeared the father humbly made his request The dignified appearance and tbe refined speech of the man impressed the porter, who retired and presently re turned with the guardian of the convent Thus Father Juan Perez de Marchena and Christopher Columbus met Neither even dreamed of it at the time, but this was the turning point in the career of the great ex plorer. There were, indeed, many toil some and discouraging years yet before him, but success was now at his hand, al though he knew it not The good father promptly relieved the wants of tbe wayfarers and drew tbe elder Columbus into conversation as they sat at the table over a meal of bread and cheese, ' fruit, salad and a bottle of wine. What he learned about the career and the ambitions of Columbus first surprised and, then interested him. From that time on he was one of Co lumbus' most devoted and most influential supporters. For several months Colnmbus remained a guest at the convent He nnfolded his plans to Father Perez and other members of the community and to the mariners and rich merchants oi tne neignoornood wno were called in consultation. All warmly approved his scheme, and, early in 1446, leaving his son Diego in charge of the friars, he turned toward Cordova, where the King and Queen of Spain then lived. Father Perez had once been the confessor and was still the trusted adviser of Queen Isabella. From him Columbns had lttters to Her Majesty, to the Queen's confessor and to influential members of the royal conrt "Surely now I cannot fail," he thought to himself as he started on this journey. But the moment was not favorable. Spain was disturbed by a plague, by religious troubles and by poverty, and was waging a terrible war against the Moors. The "Two Kings," as Ferdinand and Isabella were called, had neither the time nor the means to devote to a hazardous scheme of explora tion. And so Colombo's, although he was not turned away, was compelled to wait Meanwhile, however, he was cared for. He made new friends at court, and there is evidence that money was paid to him from time to time from tne royal treasury. But he was still poor, so poor, indeed, that he was called "the stranger with the thread bare cloak," and he bad to earn mpney at his old employment of map making. While in Cordova he married Beatriz Enriquez, a Spanish lady of good family, by whom h a had one son, Fernando, who afterward be came his father', historian. In the latter part ol the year 1486 he was given audience by the court at Salamanca. The story about the council of learned men before whom he appeared is not now re garded o3 true. But it is known that Ferdinand and Isabella listened to him, that the advisers of the court were con sulted, that nearly all the priests and bishops denounced him and that he nar rowly escaped the tortures of the Inquisi tion because, as it was declared, his geo graphical views contradicted tbe Bible. Only through the influence of a friend at court did he escape that fate. The demands of war and the wiles of those who discredited him prevailed and again he was doomed to disappointment Still the sovereigns did not permit him to leave Spain. It is evident that they were not wholly indisposed to help him some time when they should be less engaged in more urgent affairs. So Columbus still in hopes followed the court to Malaga, Sara gossa, Valladolid, Medina de Campo and elsewhere, as the war compelled it to move about He sometimes served as a soldier in the ranks, again made maps and charts and again lived on money advanced to him by his friends and by the Government Seville was surrendered to the victorions sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, in 1491, but even that brought no change in tha prospects of Columbus. The seige of Gran ada was entered upon, and that promised to lost for an indefinite length of time. Dis couraged now, worn out with long years of waiting and disappointment, he felt that it was useless to spend any mora time in Bpain, u bad tintOj melied ftjittw t - k. and How He Found America, YOUNG PEOPLE. from King John of Portugal asking him to retnrn to that country, and promising him protection and assistance. His brother Bartholomew had pressed his cause with King Henry of England, and that monarch had invited bim to come to London. From the King of France he had received a sim ilar invitation. He had fully made up hi mind to go to France, and leaving Seville he journeyed back to La Rabida, whence he bad so hopefully set out six years before. His long absence bad not dulled the affection ot his friends at Palos. Penniless though he still was, they were depressed at the thought that be was about to leave them, and their patriotism could scarce en dure that he should take to France what they thought ought to be kept for the glory and the profit ot Spain. Persuading the navigator to rest at the convent for a few days, Father Perez sent a letter by mes senger to Queen Isabella, then in camp at Santa Fe, imploring her to accede to Co lumbus' desires. The answer came in two weeks, summoning Father Perez to conrt to present his case. Thither he went withont a day's delay, and there, with the assist ance of other good friends, he was able to prevail with the sovereigns. He sent back this pious message to the anxious mariner in the convent: "I cameI saw, God con quered." Isabella now had her mind fully made ud to undertake the enterprise. She sent an order lor Columbus to return to the court, and she provided him with money for suit able clothing and the expenses of the jour ney. When tbe arrived at Santa Fe tho siege of Granada was nearly ended. Ha was present during the final battling, and saw the surrender of Boabdil, the last of tho Moorish Kings,and tbe triumph of the cross over the crescent banner. The magnificent festivities that followed in celebration ot tbe victory did not interest him. His eye was fixed upon the future, and he dreamed of triumphs for Spain, tor the Church aad for himself beside which this would be of small account His hearing was no longer delayed. It was now a question of under taking the enterprise tbat he proposed. That bad been fully decided npon. Only tha terms upon which his services could be se cured remained to be settled. Bnt that proved to be as difficult ot arrangement as anything that hod gone before. Columbns demanded that he should ba admiral and viceroy over all the countries tbat he might discover; that he should re ceive for his share of the enterprise one tenth of all the gains either by trade or con quest, and tbat his titles and possessions should pass to his descendants forever. Courtiers and nobles objected. "Why should this obscure mariner," they said, "be granted such favors? He has never done anvthing for Spain and is amera adventurer and does not even come of a good family. Yet he demands titles, honori and riches such as have never been given to the most noble and most faithful oi those whose lives have been devoted to Spain." That argument Wi3pwerful with the ad visers of the crown. They -oSand -other terms, bnt Columbus was firm. He would have all that he had demanded or ho would have nothing. He refused to listen to anv other proposition, and the repre sentatives of Spain being quite as obstinata as the Genoese, the negotiations were ab ruptly broken off. Columbns left tha audience room dejected. Taking leave of his few good friends he mounted his nrula and started again tor La Rabida and.Palos. At tbat moment he saw no chance for him self save in France, and toward tbat coun try bis thoughts turned. Scarcely had he got out of sight of tho walls of Grenada when his friends stirred themselves once more. The royal treas urer, Luis de Santangel, Diego de Deza, tutor of the heir apparent; Alonzo do Quintanilla and tha Marchioness de Moya, a favorite of Isabella, sought out the Queen and begged her not to allow a question of terms to stand In the way ot this great work that would cost little and might make Spain richer, more powerful and mora hon ored than any other nation. They argued well and they won. Isabella consented that Columbus should have his way, and when Ferdinand objected to the expense she arose from her seat and replied witn-spirit: "Very well; I will assume the whole bur den of tbe cost as Queen of Castile, and If it is believed that further delay will Jeopar dize the undertaking I will pledge my jewels to raise the needed funds." To that Santangel promptly replied: "It is not necessary for Your Highness to do tbat The treasnry C3n supply tho money that is necessary." Quickly a messenger was sent after Co lnmbus, who was overtaken a few mile from Grenada. When he heard the good news he dropped on his knees and gave) thanks to God. Then with happy heart ha returned to the Court at Grenada- 2b be continued not Sunday. THE MISSION OF AUEBICA. Tho Fiery E oqaeucs of a Chlcagoan as the Future or This Country. In a report of the speech of Henry Dt Estabrook before the Marquette Club, of Chicago, the Inter-Ocean quotes him 03 fol lows: "From tbe attitude of Now. from this zenith of history, took out upon the world. Behold! the American idea is everywhere triumphant The world itself is preparing to take an American holiday. The wise men not only of the Orient, but everywhere, are girding up their loins and will follow this star ot empire until it rests above, this rltv of CMcufn this civic Hercules: this miracle of accomplishment, the thrilling heart of all the teeming activity of our American commonwealth. The people! of the world, are soon to receive an objeot lesson in the stupendous kindergarten wa are instituting for their benefit "Now is it possible that monarchy, pin farchy or any other archy can long with stand this curriculum of instruction? No, I repeat, the American idea is everywhere triumphant England is a monarchy, to be sure, Dut onlv one out ot compliment to an impotent and aged queen. The Czar of Russia clings to his throne. It is a hencoop in a maelstrom! The crumbling monarchiei of earth are held together only by the force of arms. Standing armies are encamp d "without each citv." The sword and bayonet threaten and" retard, bnt the seed of lihertv have been caught np by the wind of heaven and scattered broadcast through out tbe earth. Tyranny's doom is soundedl The people's millennium is at hand, and this, under God, is the mission of America." . An Xlectrleal Tanlnc Box. An eleetrio tuning box for the use of lead era of orchestras and others interested in music has been Invented by a Frenchman. It consists of a dry-pile battery connected with an electro-magnet When placed on a sounding board the required note Uobtniaeq by moving a nasll eoBttsuleUof 1U44 to V jijjbipTfn 1 i si .1 --in - . 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Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers