ted, more devoted to pleasure and to vice. On that evening, above all others, the stage throws out its fascinations, and twenty theatres with their unfolded doors receive the giddy multitudes. 'Tis then that the public walks are most thronged-that the boulevards are the gayest-that the cafès are the fullest that the haunts of pleasure and of vice, are most crowded with votaries-while the various assemblies and parties of the higher classes, complete the scene of dissipation, and perfect the circle of the vices that desecrate in this abandoned city, God's most holy day. It is the females chiefly who attend mass and confession on the sabbath morning-and this only to make way for every indulgence during the rest of the week. The men pay but little regard, even to the external forms of their religion; while multitudes of those whose profession and interest attach them to the church and compel their abservance, secretly despise them: so that the Catholic religion in France is little more than infidelity under another title scepticism attired in the habit of a monk—and the same system, with the name of Voltaire erased, and that of Pius the Seventh inserted in its stead!

When I contemplate the present state of Francewhen I see one part of the population the victims of the grossest superstition, and under the deadly influence of a mercenary and an artful priesthoodwhen I see another part, bowing at the shrine of infidelity, and devoted only to the gratification of their sensual appetites and basest passions-when I see the few who profess a purer system, and who ought to

show a better way, sunk in the arms of a spiritual apathy, as dead to the things of God—as unconcerned about the Redeemer's kingdom-as indifferent to their own eternal interests-as gay, as volatile, as much the lovers of pleasure, as the rest-and think of the introduction of the gospel amongst them, and their moral and spiritual improvement, I am ready to exclaim, if the Lord should open windows in heaven, this thing might be: but to all human probability, it is an era far distant, and against its arrival, the most formidable obstacles seem to have arisen. I limit not the holy one of Israel-I know that all things are possible with God, and he that breathed upon the slain in Ezekiel's valley of vision, can quicken into spiritual life, even in this abandoned city, an exceeding great army to profess his name and propagate his word, and, if necessary, to seal their testimony with their blood. Let British Christians feel for the melancholy state of the neglected continent; and while multitudes of their countrymen are repairing to it for the various purposes of amusement and of pleasure, and often leave no very favourable traces of British piety, or British morals, or even British honesty, in their passage through it, let others visit it with a more benevolent aim-to promote amongst them the circulation of the scriptures, to excite their attention to the word of God, by conversation and by tracts, and to forward, by their contributions and their advice, the establishment of schools, for the instruction of the children. Divested of the habits and prejudices which are deeply rooted in the hearts and lives of their parents, they present a more hopeful

scene for the cultivation of the moral and spiritual philanthropist. There, by the blessing of heaven, the seed that is sown may germinate, and future generations reap the abundant harvest. Though there are many discouraging circumstances, and the case may seem desperate, to the contemplation of an ordinary faith, yet I am persuaded much may be done in this way and while success has crowned the exertions of Christian benevolence in every other quarter of the globe, and the moral wastes of India and of Africa, and the wilds of America, have already began to bud and blossom as the rose, the pious efforts and the fervent prayers, which seek the moral renovation of the continent of Europe, shall not be in vain!

Your's, &c.

P. S. Perhaps if a Frenchman, acquainted with the violations of the sabbath which occur in our own country, and the scenes of gayety and dissipation which abound in our own metropolis on that day, were to read this letter, he might be disposed to retort upon me the old proverb, "Physician heal thyself." The travelling-the feasting-the business-the dissipation-the diversion-the recreation, to which, in various ways, and through all the ramifications of society, this day is devoted even amongst us, constitute, unquestionably, a great national crime, and must be peculiarly offensive to Him, who has set apart this day, above all others, for himself, and hallowed it by his express and positive command. Yet, still the difference is great; and

deeply as England is involved in this enormous guilt, every Briton that feels interested for the welfare of his country, must rejoice that she has not gone the lengths in this crime that most of the states of christendom have done. Her violations of the sabbath are individual; their's are national. Her government protects the sabbath; their's leaves it undefended, nay, is the first to violate it. None of our public places of amusement, licensed by the state, are open on that day; here, they all are.No public works with us are suffered to proceed on that day; here, they are little, if at all disturbed : and from the pavier in the street, to the actor on the stage, all seem as busy in promoting the convenience and amusement of the people on that, as on any other day. While with regard to the maintenance of public worship, and the numbers that attend, there is no comparison. It feels like the sabbathday in England. Trade and commerce cease, and there is much to remind the sabbath-breaker, as he passes along, that he is profaning God's holy day. But this is not the case here; the city and its inhabitants present one uniform scene of gayety and indifference: and were it not for the processions which sometimes occur upon the festivals of the church, a man, who never counted the days or consulted his almanack, might live for months and years in Paris, and not know that a sabbath had passed.

LETTER XVI.

Sens.

MY DEAR

WE left Paris on Tuesday morning, and are thus far on our way to Geneva. Our last day in the capital, like most last days, the last day of life not excepted, was one of hurry and fatigue. Too much was crowded into it, and, therefore, with all our diligence, some things were left undone. We were glad, however, to escape from the tumult of the city, and have exceedingly enjoyed our journey to this place.

But before I take you finally from Paris, suffer me to tell you how much I was gratified with a visit to the Museum of French Monuments, and the Catacombs. These should certainly be viewed last of all the exhibitions in that metropolis, as they have a tendency to sober the mind, after the more gay and dissipated scenes which have engaged it. Here you converse with the dead, and the associations awakened, are immediately connected with eternity. In the Museum of French Monuments, you are surrounded by the affecting memorials of departed greatness. Here, the monuments, rich in sculpture and in eulogy, reared to the memory of the illustrious dead, are collected, from the various cathedrals and churches throughout the empire, and arranged according to their respective centuries.