have

been sent from heaven to a bishop of Aquitane, in France, which commanded all men to cease quarrelling, and to make peace with each other. From some cause, the historian does not say what, men were suffering great calamities when this pretended command was given. I suppose there may been a destructive pestilence, such as now and then swept over countries in former times. Or there may have been a famine, such as often prevailed before men understood agriculture as well as they do now, and when there was not much intercourse among different nations.

But whatever was the cause, they were in great trouble. So they were very ready to do what they supposed was commanded from heaven. They hoped that God would not, then, be angry with them and punish them any longer. There was a general reconciliation. Men that had always been bitter enemies, and fought whenever they met, now came together as friends. A rule was made that no man should attack or injure his foes during the holidays of the church, and from every Thursday evening to the next Monday morning. The days between Thursday and Monday were to be regarded as holy, because our Saviour died on Friday and rose on Sunday. This ceasing from fighting, during these days, was called "the Truce of God." If this truce had been kept strictly, the historian says, there would have been so much time for men's passions to cool,

that it would have gone far towards putting an end to private wars.

In the same way the Sabbath gives the minds of men a season of repose and reflection. Their passions get cool, and they do not any longer wish to injure one another. This is the reason why I told George that the "Truce of God," which he was reading about, is somewhat like the Sabbath.

When men are very angry and violent, if you can only persuade them to stop and reflect a moment, they become calm, and their anger dies away. I think there would not be many law-suits for assault and battery, if men would always wait half an hour after they raise their arm to strike, before they give the blow. They would soon see how foolish it is to be angry, and to wish to take revenge for an insult or injury.

When hurried by business, or excited by party feeling, men often do things for which they feel very sorry as soon as they have time to reflect. Such a season is given by the Sabbath.

Temptation blinds the mind during the cares and business of the week. It threatens to overpower us and lead us into sin. But amid the repose of the Sabbath, the judgment is clear, and the conscience is active, and eternity is nigh. Then we see how temptation is trying to deceive and destroy our souls, and we escape from its snare.

Men are often prone to prize wealth too highly,

and may be in danger of doing wrong to obtain it. Perhaps they begin to think of some scheme for getting what belongs to another, by dishonesty and fraud. But they dare not meditate on the scheme on the Sabbath. In these quiet and solemn hours the mind becomes ashamed of the plan for defrauding a neighbor, and it is laid aside before its execution is begun.

The Sabbath places a wall between the angry man and the object of his anger; between the revengeful man and the object of his fury; between the covetous man and the object of his desire; between the ambitious man and the office at which he aims. It brings them all to a stand. It bids them pause and reflect. It changes the tempest into a healthful breeze-the raging tide into a murmuring ripple.

The voice of the Sabbath is a voice of gentleness. I have sometimes thought that even the music of the birds is softer on the Sabbath than on other days; and that the echoes in the fields and in the groves are more melodious and soothing. To the rudeness of the passionate, and to the clamorous desires of the greedy and ambitious, the Sabbath speaks, in the language of Him who calmed the winds and the waves, "Peace, be still."

The Sabbath is admirably fitted to promote intelligence in the community.

If there was no Sabbath, there would be no

ministers settled over congregations, as there are now. And if there were no ministers, especially in country towns, there would be few good schools. Clergymen are almost always on the committees for examining teachers, and for visiting schools. And schools, when neglected by clergymen, are not often flourishing.

Think, too, my children, how much knowledge must be collected, in the course of a long life, by devoting a part of one day in seven to reading and reflection! Good deacon Stockton knows much more than the father of Thomas Bradish. The difference would not be much greater if deacon Stockton had gone to school one half of each seventh day, from his childhood until the age of threescore years and ten; while the father of Thomas Bradish had never gone to school a day in his life. But a great part of this difference, I have no doubt, is owing to the different manner in which they keep the Sabbath. The father of Thomas Bradish goes to hunting and fishing on the Sabbath, or else he roves about the fields, or spends the day in sleep. But deacon Stockton, who owns a share in the parish library, is always careful to have some good book to read on the Sabbath. To be sure, he says there is no book like the Bible; . still he thinks it best to spend a part of the Sabbath in reading other books. You can scarcely name a biography of good men and women which

deacon Stockton has not read. He is well acquainted with history and chronology. He knows all about the countries where the missionaries reside. He works hard during the week, and has a large family to support; but yet he finds time, by keeping the Sabbath strictly, to grow in knowledge, as well as in grace.

There are many such men as deacon Stockton in almost every congregation where the Sabbath is observed-venerable men, men of principle and good sense, who are made so, very much, by keeping the Sabbath.

Now converse with the father of Thomas Bradish. When young, he was a schoolmate of deacon Stockton, and was the brighter, I have been told, of the two. But the father of Thomas Bradish did not love to keep the Sabbath. While deacon Stockton was reading on the Sabbath, he was hunting, or fishing, or haunting the tavern. And now you would scarcely think he knows how to read; for if you ask him any question about history, or about the places where the missionaries live, or about any of the biographies of good men, you will find him as ignorant almost as a child. I suppose he does not even know that there ever was such a man as Henry Martyn or John Newton.

Mrs. Hannah More, whom we read about last week, says she used to read a great many religious books on the Sabbath. She says she read Lowth,