The dry figures are as follows: Eighteen schools, forty-one teachers, the number of pupils enrolled, 1,043; the average attendance (lessened doubtless in San Francisco by the fact that just now our street lamps are not lighted, and our dark streets are not viewed by Chinese as conducive to their personal safety), 435. Total number enrolled during the nine months now past, of the present fiscal year, 2,470. Word came of at least five among the pupils who, during May, professed to have turned from the worship of idols, and to have become the followers of Christ. It seems to me that in several of the schools the interest in spiritual things is deepening, and that the prospect brightens for a continuous and large harvest. “ALL QUIET UPON THE POTOMAC.” This proverb, dating back to the troublous times of 1862, has often risen to my lips, as, week by week, or day by day, I have asked tidings from our North School in this city. In April it was established in permanent quarters, where we believe it will grow to a size, and will cheer us with a fruitfulness, second only to our central school. But in almost every locality where we plant a school we are obliged by passive resistance and patient endurance to “conquer a peace.” The struggle has been longer and harder than usual in our North School, but it seems to be over, and peace to be won. Our hoodlum neighbors tried what virtue there was in outcries and in stones rattling upon the roof and doors and blinds till they could have been picked up by the bushel, and in various tricks which it would be a waste of paper to describe, but have retired at last defeated from the field, and the work moves on undisturbed. We have reason to speak well of the protection extended us by the police, and to remember with hearty admiration the heroic lady teacher who was the principal sufferer and the champion in the fight.