A SABBATH IN PARIS.

(From the Witness.)

Not long since, the present writer had occasion to make a short sojourn in France. Travelling from the south, we arrived in Paris early in the week, but waited over Sabbath, that we might have an opportunity of seeing how the day was spent in the French capital. Changes were just beginning to be adopted in our own country, the obvious tendency of which was to assimilate the Sabbaths of Scotland to those of Paris; and we wished to see with our own eyes the lengths to which the innovations in question are likely to be carried, and the results that are sure to spring from them. Four busy days we had already passed in visiting the museums and galleries, and in examining every thing of interest which the great city contains; and now the morrow was the Sabbath. We awoke at an early hour; but already the whole city was astir. On no previous morning had we observed such a bustle in the streets. A confused noise, as of a great multitude of foot-passengers, rose to the casement of our sleeping apartment, mingled with the ceaseless rattle of carriages. Although Paris had had only one working day in the week, and all the other days had been Sabbaths, she could not have been more in haste to resume her round of toils and gaieties. It seemed as if she really believed that labour on this day would bring after it a double recompense, and that pleasure on this day had a double sweetness in it. It was natural that we should be reminded by contrast of the Sabbaths of our own land. How different a scene did Scotland at that moment present! We could fancy the light breaking on her plains hushed and still, and girdled by the calm majesty of the distant mountains; we saw it shining on villages and hamlets, and making glad, as it were, the deep solitude and quiet in which they lay; we saw it gilding the spires and forts of mighty capitals, in whose streets there reigned a silence nearly as profound as in the rural lanes of the secluded hamlet; we thought of the highways untrodden this day by the wayfarer, and the noble rivers and broad friths whose calm bosom no steamer furrowed with its keel, or darkened with its smoke; we thought, too, of the many families from whose dwellings there now ascended the voice of prayer or the melody of praise. How noble the spectacle, thought we-grand and imposing beyond any other that the earth affords! A noble land converted this day into a temple-hushed and reverent, too, from shore to shore, like a temple, and with a whole nation of magnanimous and devout men become the worshippers. Here was a picture, uniting, on a greater scale than any other scene in time, all that is grand and beautiful in poetry, with all that is sublime and holy in religion; but, alas! that such a picture should be seen nowhere but in Scotland!

We were late of descending to the breakfast saloon. The number of guests was this morning unusually large, if we could judge from the bustle in the apartment; and we waited till the greater part should have retired, that we might enjoy our repast in quiet. At length we descended, and found, on

entering, a considerable number of loungers still present. Some were engaged with breakfast, others were busy with the newspapers; some chatted, and others sung sprightly airs, in a rather subdued pitch of voice. It was plain that they had adopted this modified tone, not because it was the Sabbath, but from a polite wish not to disturb those near them who were engaged in conversation or reading. Hav-, ing breakfasted, we set out for the chapel of M. Pasteur Cordez, in the Rue de Provence. The morning was a brilliant one; the sky was without a cloud: but we remarked that the sun emitted not that full golden radiance which he usually sheds on the fair city on the banks of the Seine, but that he shone with a clear silvery ray, which betokened that clouds would obscure the sky, and showers wet the earth, ere his setting radiance should gild the dome of the Parthenon. We crossed the square of the Bourse-a noble building, with a colonnade in front, and a row of Corinthian pillars on its other sides, having its beautiful architecture finely softened by the young acacias which ran along on the extreme, edge of the spacious pavement that surrounded the building. The gates of that great temple of commerce were closed; but other signs were there none, that we could discover, in the Place de la Bourse, that this was the day of rest. Rest! it seemed as if the term could have no meaning in Paris. For this city there was no rest. It was the doom of her people to pursue gain and pleasure, with a fearful energy, till one by one they fell dead in the pursuit. In vain the summons to mass was rung out from the great towers of Notre Dame: no one obeyed the call. artisan went to his workshop; the merchant to his counting-house; the trader to his shop; and the man of pleasure to the saloons of fashion, or the galleries of art, or the cafés of the Palais Royal; and left the mitred band of cardinals and bishops to chant prayers and burn incense in the presence of a congregation of some dozens of old women, assembled amid the desolate aisles of the high Cathedral. passed on through the square, but not a shop was shut. The same articles which we had seen exposed for sale every day since our arrival in Paris were exposed over again on this day. There was a sameness in the sight, which had an unspeakably saddening effect upon the spirits, and made us feel how terrible a thing it was to have no Sabbath. In the windows of the printsellers were the same portraits of Napoleon and Pius IX., and a host of warriors and bishops of inferior name. The same busts of Voltaire and Rousseau looked forth from the open studio of the artist. In the windows of the booksellers might be read over again the title-pages of the same workshistorical, philosophical, and sceptical-which were to be perused on other days. The same rolls of silk lay piled up on the shelves of the draper; and at the door of the fruiterer was an equally abundant display of all the varieties of rich fruits which the fine climate of France produces. One shop we marked which was obviously destined to be the scene of no mercantile transaction that day. There was neither buyer nor seller in it. The plasterer was busy inside with the ceiling, which needed repairs; and the

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painter with his pot and brush was bedaubing the door with patches of red, preparatory to bestowing a complete coat of paint upon it. We turned off on the right, into a narrow street leading northwards. Like the Place we had just traversed, this street was a scene of busy merchandise. Our memory deceives us if one shop was closed throughout its entire length. Traversing this street, we came out upon the Boulevards. Of splendour this famed promenade cannot perhaps boast; yet it possesses an extraordinary air of gaiety, and is handsome in the extreme. harmony of proportion has been carefully attended to in the nice adjustment of the breadth to the length; and the harmony of colour has been not less attentively studied in the minor arrangements. noble row of tall flourishing elms and sycamores, which extends on either side throughout its entire length, forms a fresh and beautiful screen to the white fronts of the spacious mansions that stand on the Boulevards. It was here that the full tide of Parisian gaiety rolled along-no cloud reflecting its lark shadow on its brilliant bosom. Equipages and vehicles occupied the causewayed portion of the street, while the ample pavement was densely crowded with fashionably-attired persons. Knots of gay oungers were gathered at the door of the open saloons, r, seated at tables, drank coffee beneath the shady Foliage of young acacias, which had been planted here of purpose. We moved along to the west with the tream for about a quarter of a mile, and then, crossng the Boulevards, entered a street on the right. We passed the great banking establishment of Rothshild, but had no means of ascertaining whether it vas open on this day. We had found that it did usiness on the previous day, and we deemed it imrobable that, if open on the Jewish Sabbath, it would be shut on the Christian one. A little beyond he house of Rothschild, we were delighted to oberve one shop unopened. In a few minutes we ame upon another. So, then, we thought, there are wo men, at least, in this guilty city who rest on the Sabbath according to the commandment.

We were

not so fortunate as to light on a third. We turned once more to the right, and found ourselves in the Rue de Provence. A few paces brought us to the loor of the Protestant chapel.

We were rather startled by the reading out of he text, "Our light affliction is but for a moment." In the midst of such a city one would have expected to behold a preacher stern of aspect like the ancient prophets, and to have been called to listen to some message of terrible denunciation, like that which was proclaimed in Nineveh of old: "Yet forty days "It was no theme of denunciation or terror, however, which the preacher before us had selected. He spoke of affliction, exhorted to fortitude in the endurance of it, and pointed to the " glory" for which it is the instrument of preparing the Chris

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shall see no sorrow.' Doubtless there were broken hearts within her. Misery, and wretchedness, and woe, in all their dismal forms, lurked beneath her gaieties. Dark passions, too, rankled at her heart, and not unfrequently broke out into frightful crimes, which drew after them their inseparable attendants -remorse, horror, and despair. The Praslin tragedy had been consummated only four days before. But we had seen enough to convince us that when Paris is afflicted, the comfort which she seeks is not that which the preacher offered. The terrible spectacles of the Morgue show but too plainly, that when her gaiety is extinguished, nothing but despair is left, and that the hapless victim of calamity knows no resource but to hide himself with his woes beneath the waters of the Seine. Still, we rejoiced to think that the eloquent preacher before us knew all this better, than we did; and his selection of such a topic gave us, therefore, the assurance that in Paris, given over, as it appeared to us, to those things the end of which! is death, had yet within it a few who kept themselves from its contaminations, and cherished in their hearts a hope beyond the grave.

The worship was at an end, and we left the chapel to be thrown again on the same scene of gaiety from which we had found in the services just concluded so agreeable and profitable an escape. The world outside was keeping no Sabbath; and our sudden transition made us painfully sensible of the extreme unhappiness of those to whom affliction must come, but who know not the hope on which the preacher had so eloquently discoursed. We now found that the throngs had thickened. Cabs, omnibuses, and vehicles of all kinds, were plying on the streets: the waggoner drove past with his load; gay equipages stood at shop doors for parties inside who were cheapening goods. Merchants of humble rank stood at the corners of streets, offering walking-canes, steelpens, and similar wares for sale. The multifarious noises of the city were somewhat euphonized by a great variety of instruments, which ranged from the grave sounds of the organ which the music-man carried about, down to the sprightly airs which were given by the young Italian. There, too, was the juggler performing to gaping crowds the same feats with which he had entertained them on the six previous days. But what impressed us as the most extraordinary, at least anomalous, part of this gigantic system of Sabbath desecration, was the fact that workmen were employed in repairing one of the cathedrals. We passed it just as the hour of two had struck. Some of the masons were ascending the ladders to resume their work; others had reached the platform, and had struck their first blow with the mallet upon the stone.

During all the morning, Paris observes a certain degree of sobriety and decorum in her Sabbath desecration. She demeans herself much as if the day were one of the ordinary working days; but towards evening she grows tumultuous. The Champs d'Elysee are covered with booths and shows; and all sorts of amusements and fetes are enacted. These we did not visit, and therefore do not describe. Nor do we speak of the public gardens, which are this evening

added Ps. i. 2, 3. Another reason was, Our want of being emptied of self-sufficiency. In proportion as we lean upon our own gifts, or parts, or preparations, we slight the Holy Spirit: and no wonder that, being grieved, he should leave us to do our work alone. Besides, when this is the case, it is, humanly speaking, unsafe for God to prosper us, especially those ministers who possess considerable abilities.

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united. It is thus that, by "an unction from the Holy One, we know all things."

In reading by myself, I have also felt the advantage of being able to pause, and think, as well as pray; and to inquire how far the subject is any way applicable to my case and conduct in life.

In the course of a morning's exercise it may be supposed that some things will appear hard to be understood; and I may feel myself, after all my application, unable to resolve them. Here, then, let me

VIDUAL ACTS.

Was not David a regenerate man when he slew Uriah by the sword of the children of Ammon; and if so, how can we reconcile his conduct with the apostle's assertionthat no murderer hath eternal life abiding in him?"" -John iii. 25.

THE difficulty here suggested would vanish, if it were considered that, while the quality of actions is determined by their relation to the divine law, the estimate we form of character must be regulated by the habitual course of the life and conduct. If we were to form our opinion of men from particular events in their lives, we should pronounce Noah a drunkard, Aaron an idolater, Jacob a liar, David a murderer, and Peter an apostate; and each of these characters is excluded from the kingdom of God. But such a judgment would evidently be harsh and erroneous, because these things were not of a piece with their general character, but most entirely opposed thereto. The apostle, in the words referred to, is describing those who "go in the way of Cain," and whose character and spirit resemble his. Such a man, he affirms, "hath not eternal life abiding in him."

But in this sense David was not a murderer. His sin, in the matter of Uriah, was not the result of those principles on which his character was formed, but a melancholy proof of the force of temptation, even in the case of an eminently good man.-Fuller.

read them instead of reading the Scriptures, I may indeed derive some knowledge; but my mind will not be stored with the best riches, nor will the word "dwell richly in me in all wisdom and spiritual understanding." If, on the other hand, I read the Scriptures, and exercise my own mind on their meaning, only using the helps with which I am furnished when I particularly need them, such knowledge will avail me more than any other; for, having felt and laboured at the difficulty myself, what I obtain from others towards the solution of it becomes more interesting and abiding than if I had read it without any such previous efforts. And as to my own thoughts, though they may not be superior nor equal to those of others, in themselves considered, yet, if they be just, their having been the result of pleasing toil renders them of superior value to me. A small portion obtained by our own labour is sweeter than a large inheritance bequeathed by our predecessors. Knowledge thus obtained will not only be always accumulating, but of special use in times of trial; not like the cumbrous armour which does not fit us, but like the sling and the stone, which, though less brilliant, will be more efficacious.

I may add, it were well for those who can find leisure to commit to writing the most interesting thoughts which occur at these seasons. It is thus, that they will be fixed in the memory; and the revision of them may serve to rekindle some of the best sensations in our life.-Ibid.

"ALL IS MINE."

WHATSOEVER the saints see in heaven is their own. God saith to Abrahamn now in the heavenly Canaan,: what he once said to him of the earthly: "Lift up thine eyes, and look from the place where thou art, northward, southward, eastward, and westward, for all the land which thou seest to thee do I give it.": (Gen. xiii. 14, 15.) Whatever is within that vast circumference of heaven, it is Abraham's, and all his spiritual seed's, for ever. Now David may tune his song of praise a key higher; and instead of, "Gilead is mine, and Manasseh is mine, Ephraim and Judah," &c. (Ps. lx. 7, 8), he may now sing, God is mine, and Christ is mine, and the Spirit is mine; all the elect angels are mine, and the whole congregation of the first-born are mine-all the glory of heaven is mine. And so may the least of the saints in heaven triumph, All is mine; and what pleasures, or riches, or honours, or glory, or joys, are in the presence of God—they are all mine. They did sing so while yet in the valley of tears, or they might have sung so (John i. 12); faith gave them a title, a right to heaven, but the blessed vision giveth them now real interest and right in heaven, and they need They might have not now fear to call it theirs. said, My God, my Christ, and my Comforter, here below, but one thing was to be done first; sound

Scripture evidence was to be cleared out, and sealed up to their souls; but some or other defect therein did not seldom check their confidence, and damp their joy for a time. But now in glory, all is theirs beyond all dispute; their evidences were seen and allowed at their first admission into heaven, and now Mine, mine, is their song and triumph to all eternity; and God is not ashamed to be called their God.-Case.

NO CLOUDS IN HEAVEN.

Ir fareth with many a poor believer here in the wilderness of desertion as it did with Hagar in hers. (Gen. xxi. 16-18.) They sit down to die for want of water when there is a well before them, yea, many a well of living water-the precious promises, out of which wells of salvation they might with joy draw water (Isa. xii. 3), and drink and forget their sorrows; but, alas! they see them not, until God open their eyes, and then they can go and fill their bottles, and drink, and cause others to drink also. (Gen. xxi. 19.) This is often the state of the way. Oh but now, in the country, the land of fruition, there the saints see, and they know they see; they love, and they know they love; yea, they are beloved, and they know they are beloved. They are bathing themselves in the rivers of pleasures, and they know where they are, and what they do. All tears are wiped from their eyes, and they know who wiped them off with the kisses of his mouth. They are safe, yea, and they are sure; they are blessed, and they know they are blessed. The spouse is now got into the throne, the bosom of her beloved, the King of glory, and there she singeth, Here I sit as a queen, and am no widow, and shall see sorrow no more for ever." (Rev. xviii. 7.)—Ibid.

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WHY I NEVER DOUBT.

REVELATION never staggers me. There may be a tertium quid, though we are not yet in possession of it, which would put an end to our present doubts and questions. I was one day riding with a friend: we were discussing a subject, and I expressed myself surprised that such a measure was not adopted.

If

I were to tell you one thing," said he," it would

make all clear." I gave him credit that there did exist something which would entirely dispel my objections. Now if this be the case, in many instances, between man and man, is it an unreasonable conclusion, that all the unaccountable points which we may observe in the providence and government of God should be all perfection in the Divine mind? Take the growth of a seed-I cannot possibly say what first produces the progress of growth in the grain. Take voluntary motion-I cannot possibly say where action begins and thought ends. The proportion between a fly's mind and a man's is no adequate illustration of the state of man with respect to God; because there is some proportion between the minds or faculties of two finite creatures, but there can be none between finite man and the infinite God.-Cecil.

TAKE HEED.

TAKE heed of any thing that may darken your evidences. A small drop of ink or dirt falling upon an evidence, may make it illegible, or darken it.

People make nothing of small sins, but small sins do not the least hurt to the soul. The least hair casts its shadow, and a barley-corn laid upon the light of the eye will hinder the sight of the sun as well as a mountain. "Abstain from all appearance of evil," if you desire God should be "a God of peace" to you. (1 Thess. v. 22, 23.) Abstain from all appearance of evil, if you expect a pre-enjoyment of heaven.

EXAMPLE-LOOK TO IT.

LET every parent look well to his daily and hourly example; for children, says an able writer, make more use of the eye than the ear; and the expres sions are clearer and stronger from the one than the other-they will not be influenced so much by what you say as by what you do. In vain do you exhort them to be spiritual while you are worldly. In vain do you point them to the narrow path which leads to heaven, while you decline to walk in it. In vain do you warn them from carnal indulgences in which you seek your gratification. You must live what you teach; you must be what you desire them to become. This is the necessary price of a happy state of religion in the family; and it is, alas! a price many parents decline to pay.

"WHOM THE LORD LOVETH HE CHASTENETH."

GOD's thoughts are not as ours: those whom be calls to a kingdom, he calls to sufferings, as the way to it. He will have the heirs of heaven know they are not at home on earth, and that this is not their rest. He will not have them, with the abused world, fancy a happiness here, and seek a happy life in the regions of death, as St. Augustine says. The reproaches and wrongs that encounter them, shall elevate their minds often to that land of peace and rest "where righteousness dwelis." The hard taskmaster shall make them weary of Egypt (which otherwise, probably, they might comply too well with), and dispose them for deliverance, and make it welcome, which, it may be, they might but coldly desire, if they were better used.-Leighton.

Fragments.

THE amount of the Christianity of some is, that they are willing Christ should do them all the good in his power, and they are willing to obey him in so far as it falls in with their convenience.

I bear to error a degree of the same hatred that I

feel towards sin, and am determined to persecute

the one as I do the other.

Will the Head let the members perish?

That assurance which sin will not damp, is not worth a straw.

Denials in love are better than grants in anger.

We must not think to lie upon God as some lazy people do on their rich kindred, to be always begging of him, but not to put forth our hand to work in the use of means. God has appointed prayer as a help to our diligence, not as a cloak to our sloth. He that prayeth, and is diligent in the use of means, is the person who lifts up his heart with his hands to God.