"I am striving diligently to overcome selfishness, and I am gaining ground a little. I feel that if there are any more needy than I am, who are laboring faithfully in the order, let them be served first. "I cannot accomplish as much work as I should like to, but I do all that I can. I am making hats, and have charge of the hat department. My babe is as nice a boy as anybody ever had; and the Lord knows it is my desire to bring him up in such a way that he will be an honor to his parents. Vilate is very delicate; I do not feel at all easy about her, but I do hope and pray that she will be spared to us. "May the blessings of the Lord be with you, is the prayer of your affectionate wife, Lydia K. Young." April 5th was a cold, windy day. I went to Sister Burris's, Little Dean Hill, forty miles, and found the family well. I wrote Elder Samuel Leigh, of Cedar City, as follows: "Dear friend, I have just returned from a short visit to Wales, our old field of labor, and feel to write a few lines to you. "I thought that England would go to war with Russia but as yet the Lion and the Bear are content to watch the bone, and snarl and growl at each other. However, the war feeling is becoming more intense and bitter, and it is hard to say what a day may bring forth. "In Wales, there is still much suffering--worse a great deal than when you were here. You will doubtless remember Brother Street of Treorky, who was so badly crushed in the coal pit. He is still suffering, yet clinging to life and full of faith, else he would have been dead long ago. At one time, his wounds had nearly closed; but they opened again, and several pieces of the backbone came out. The doctors can do nothing for him; and our Christian friends call long and loud for a miracle, and because he is not healed, they harden their hearts and persecute the Saints; forgetting that John did no miracles, yet a greater prophet never lived." One of the most melancholy events of the season was the sinking of Her Majesty's war training-ship, Euridice. She was returning from a six months' training trip, having on board four hundred picked young officers and men. In forty minutes more she would have been at anchor in Portsmouth. Thousands of friends had assembled on the pier to give them welcome; when a sudden squall, accompanied with snow, swept from the headlands across the bay, striking the ship. In a few minutes the storm was past; but the ship was nowhere to be seen. The hand of death, as it were, had smitten her; and of the four hundred souls on board, all perished but two.