Fragments

Some twenty years ago, on our way home from Lake Leman, we spent a few days in Paris, having an old friend, long resident there, as our guide and commissionaire. Returning to our hotel one night, past the mid hour, a man went by, roughly dressed, and moving quickly. He carried a small lamp and a box about with him, and in his right hand a stick, with an iron hook on the one end, which he struck into each heap of refuse as he went along on the edge of the pavement.

“There goes a cliiffonnier’’ said our friend.

“A chiffonnier! What is that?”

“A rag-gatherer,” he said; ‘’ or collector of all sorts of things from the nightly deposits in the streets. There are thousands of these in Paris, who make their livelihood by thus fishing amid the filth of the city.”

“We had seen such persons in our own land, but chiefly in the form of old women, who come out in the early dawn to search and sift our ‘’ ash-buckets.” In Paris, however, the trade is more extensive, and is connected not only with a sort of corporation or “institution,” but with a colony, to whose “local habitation” is given the name of “Chiffonville,” not far from Belleville. It corresponds somewhat to the “Rag-fair” of London.

The Paris Mission, as we have already noticed, has entered Chiffonville, and found human ears to hear and human hearts to receive the Gospel. Gazed at with wonder, the visitors have been respectfully treated, and are able to tell of true work done amid these poorest of the poor in Paris, these farthest removed of all from Christianity, or civilised life. “This man receiveth sinners “has been seen even here.” He has had compassion on the ignorant, and on them that are out of the way.’*’

These rag-gatherers are both male and female, old and young, living together, as in some gipsy village, in the heart of the French metropolis. It is often in such a district that the brightest instances of the great spiritual change occur; and from such an unlikely class God often takes His “■ hidden ones,” to manifest His own grace and the power of His truth. The following narrative from the pen of a worker will greatly interest our readers: —

“Our little ’ cliiffonniere ’ is one of a hand of rag-pickers inhabiting the vicinity of Belleville.

“One little dreams of the existence of such a settlement, but on turning down a narrow lane, leading out of a more frequented thoroughfare, one comes in sight of what looks almost like a miniature hamlet among the mountains, a summit of the ‘Buttes Chaumont, with its crown of dark foliage forming a picturesque background to the rustic dwellings of these poor people.

“In and about their houses rags and rubbish lie everywhere, and behind is a large shed where this refuse, found in parts of the great city, is picked and sorted, in order, if possible, to be turned to advantage.

“When we make our appearance, women and children come out of their doors to look at us. Within, some of their men are to be seen smoking, drinking, or card-playing; and all have such a disreputable appearance that we have been warned of the danger of going amongst them; but nevertheless we are always well received, and pictures and tracts accepted with thankfulness. Some few have from time to time been persuaded to attend a neighbouring meeting, and a little band of children has been gathered to join us at the Sunday school. Of these, this little girl is the one who gives us most encouragement. A poor, neglected, motherless child, accustomed, like the rest of the community, to go out rag-gathering every morning before daylight, and spending the rest of her time in dirt and idleness, she has reached the age of thirteen or fourteen without knowing how to read, and ignorant as a little heathen of all true religion.

“Now, however, her father has consented to her being placed at a day school, where she attends regularly, and takes great interest in learning to read and write; She has also come into possession of a New Testament, and gets her father to help her to learn the texts of Scripture set her at school.

“One day she had been repeating to her teacher the verse, * Come imto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,’ &c., and this led to some remarks on the burden of sin.

“’ “What is sin ] ’ she was asked.

“‘It is disobeying God.’

“‘Have you any sins? ‘” ‘Yes; but I do not sin so much now as I used. I ask God to forgive me my sins.’

“‘What do we call that when we ask something of God ]’

“‘It is praying.’

“‘Well, how do you pray? tell me about it.’

“‘I ask God to forgive me, and I ask Him to help me to learn my verse at school, and to learn to read, because I do so much want to know how to read; only everybody does not know that I pray. Father does not think that I pray. I don’t do it when he is there, because I can’t say it out loud.’

“‘But you need not pray aloud; you might say it in a whisper,’

“* Oh no! I don’t like to do it before father. I ahvays prmj when I go out rag-gathering in the morning, with my basket on my bach I pray for father and I pray for my brother, because I have a big brother who is bad, and he does not live at home with us, so I pray to God to forgive him too.’

“This conversation will show that we have reason to hope that the truths of the Gospel are beginning to influence the heart of this poor child, and we trust that she may be the means of bringing others around her under its influence also. She is now placed with friends who have her under training for service. This is at her own request, as she said, * Je ne veux plus aller chiffonner.’”

Of another stray one gathered in from her wanderings, and passing from the gay bed to the quiet reunion, and from that, we trust, into the fold of the Shepherd, we have a brief but touching narrative given in a private letter: showing in what unlikely places the good Shepherd finds His sheep.”^

* We have already noticed the imperfect views of sin manifested among the people. Let the two following illustrations, given us by a friend, be taken as confirmations: —” One Sunday night, — it was the night of a /cfe, and the city was in its gayest costume, — M came from a ball-room close by, and entered by chance our Grenelle station. She was much excited, and hardly knew where she went, or what she did. Before the close of the meeting, she was seen weeping bitterly, and when some Christian friends spoke to her, she knelt down, and seemed as if she would have dug herself into the ground in her despair. Finding it impossible to leave the poor girl alone, as she had no alternative but that of returning to her life of sin and degradation, one who was deeply interested by her account, took her to his house, till some home could be provided for her.

“Little pet sins is a common distinction among them. Conscience comes into play when sin involves any flagrant wrong to a neighbour; for their sense of justice is keen, but hardly otherwise. Thus it is almost impossible to persuade them that a lie is sin if it injures no one. A rather amusing case of this kind occurred where one of our lady workers was trying to convince a poor market-woman that she was a sinner, which she denied, out and out. * But have you never told any lies? ’ asked the lady. ‘Oh no! ’ she never told lies. * To be sure, ’ she added, ‘I have sometimes said the fish was fresh when it was not; but there, God knew that was for my interest; He would not be angry with me.’

“In another case, a servant, of the rough paysanne class, quite a different class from the native Parisian, was sent to post letters on New-Year’s Eve, and, in order to get through the crowd which besieged the post-office, she exclaimed, * I have left a sick child at home; let me pass! ’ and got through. ’ * But that was a lie,’ said her mistress. * You don’t call that a lie, ’ she replied; ‘I said it to get past!” No matter, it was not true, it was a sin.’ * A sin! I wish I may never have any worse sins than that,’ said the woman, laughing loud at the very idea, ’ as if God would be angry with me for that! ‘Further remonstrance was attempted, but only seemed to add to her amusement, that such a trifle should be regarded so seriously. Yet we believe this woman was honest in the main, and might have been trusted in any matter which she regarded as important.”

“M was under deep impression of sin, and spoke of the

sorrow her conduct gave to her poor parents.

“On the following day she was received into the Refuge, and there she has been for many months, never regretting to have entered it.

*•’ But temptation has often been very great. Several times she has said to me, ‘I feel so bad; and sometimes when I fancy I have conquered, I give way, and lose in an hour what I have been struggling for; I am so very wicked.’

“Though very young, sin has made deep inroads in her heart, and she has also to contend against the dreadful vice of strong drink.

“In January she wrote, and after expressing loving New-Year wishes, added, ‘At this season one draws near to loved ones in thought. Your souvenir touches me deeply, and my heart is full of gratitude. All I desire is to persevere in the good path, where God has jplaced me, and I hope He will give me strength to fulfil my desire.’

“The directress of the Refuge writes as follows: * M ’s

struggles against drink have been dreadful; she has at last decided to take nothing but water, which she has done for the past six or seven months, and has no wish to drink wine. Her health suffers from the continual efforts she has to make to resist her old temptations, which is painful to see. During the last two or three months she has been more submissive, and has made real progress.’

“May the Lord Jesus look on that poor child, and tell her He has blotted out all her sins.

“It was not till some months afterwards that we discovered a link of special prayer which made this poor girl’s recovery deeply interesting. She had spent some months in a pastor’s house (two years since), and there had had religious impressions, and obtained some knowledge of her Bible. This pastor’s wife could not forget her, and spoke of her on her dying bed, longing to see her once more, that she might plead with her about her soul.

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She could not be found, and the dying Christian’s prayers never reached er ears. But they were laid up before God, and we firmly believe that as they have begun to be answered in this wonderful way, so our blessed Lord Jesus will answer them yet more fully on behalf of this poor wanderer. Will not those who may hear her sad story unite in besieging the throne of grace on her behalf %”

We have already noticed the self-denying and successful labours of Madame Dalencourt, and given some extracts from her reports. But the following letter from her to Mr. Dodds, dated so recently as “10th June, 1879,” will be found peculiarly interesting, both as a reminiscence of her own striking history, and a record of the noble work in which she is engaged. As the sister of Lieutenant Bellot, one of the most intrepid of our Arctic explorers, she will perhaps be listened to by some who would not have cared to read the letter of a humble Christian worker: —

“You have expressed a desire to have a short report of our ladies’ mission to working- women, and its origin, assuring me that the ladies of Edinburgh would read it with sympathy. Although I have very little leisure, this assurance makes me happy to comply with your request, for, after the sympathy of the Saviour, I know nothing more encouraging than the sympathy of His people. Having much to see in a short space of time, we must make our retrospective journey, stopping shortly at the starting-place, only to wonder in our hearts at the power and compassion of God, who loves to turn the darkness into light, and to change our trials into blessings.

“Brought up in a convent, my eyes were early directed to

T higher things, and I hoped to remain there, to work out my salvation, and contribute to that of others; but my mother was opposed to this, because of my youth, when the chaj)lain conveyed to her my request. My dearly-loved brother. Lieutenant Bellot, who died in the Arctic seas, in the search of Sir John Franklin, had written his journal half in English, half in French, and I heard it whispered, to the horror of all, that he had, in his two voyages, fallen into the habit of reading — the Bible, and that he delighted in it, and even conducted service for the crew, who listened to him with edification 1 ‘The Bible, — the Book of the Protestants! ’ said the nuns and father-confessors crossing themselves; and I, scarcely believing such a misfortune, secretly and inwardly resolved to find out for myself in what my noble brother delighted.

“I obtained the permission of my family to go to a boarding-school in London, to learn English. The Shepherd placed in the way of His young lamb a gentle guide, who led me by * the still waters,’ and made my thirsty soul drink there. I loved her dearly, and deplored in my heart that she only prayed to Jesus Christ. ‘• How much she loses,’ thought I.. We prayed earnestly for each other; and notwithstanding my petitions to the Virgin and the saints, of whom I knew the pretended virtues much better than the real ones of the Saviour,, her prayers were answered, and I learned to know the One Mediator who had accomplished my salvation, more than eighteen centuries ago. Some years passed in the study of Protestant and Roman Catholic commentaries, after which, in full conviction, I entered the Protestant Church. Later, the war, of which God has already changed so much of the anguish into blessing, broke out, and sent me with my young child under the Christian roof of Lady Barrow — * my mother in the faith.’ Her * mothers’ meetings,’ so quietly held, touched me deeply, and I was able to see so much Christian lay-work, that it seemed to me as though one-half of London was working to convert the other half. That moved me to

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jealousy, and overcoming an excessive timidity, I entreated the Lord to provide me with, the means of ’ doing the same ’ in my beloved country. ‘Before I called, He answered,’ so far that the ‘Society of Friends ’ offered me, by the help of a War Victims’ Fund, means to begin some meetings for women. Returning from London I met my husband at Versailles, where he had taken refuge with the Government on escaping from the Hotel de Ville, and was waiting for the opening of the city, which was in the hands of the Communists. There I had an opportunity of gathering a few women in my room in the hotel at which we were staying. Soon after we settled at Boulogne-sur-Seine, and I began to have meetings in a room at my own house. The women received fivepence for three hours’ needlework, during which hyinns were sung, a tract read, and a portion of the gospel read and practically explained. We began, with five, but gradually the number increased to such an extent that it was necessary to rent a house for the meetings. I had as many as 284 women, and had to give them tickets for admittance. A school was opened on Sundays and on Thursdays, also an industrial school for girls, and Bible classes; all of which were most encouragingly attended. 104 girls, from twelve to eighteen years of age, were trained for service, only two of them being Protestants. This work lasted during six years of great blessing, after which, private circumstances brought us to Paris, but in order not to lose my intercourse with my dear people, I continue to go there every Thursday to superintend meetings for women and children separately. We no longer pay them for their work, and consequently we have not such a good attendance; but I feel greatly encouraged by their coming, for I know now it is not for the bread that perisheth. Some of them, and they are all Roman Catholics, read the Bible at home, induce others to come to the meetings, and a feeling of love reigns amongst them. They form a small and pious congregation.

“Once inside Paris in 1876, I was waiting on the Master to know what He intended me to do with the very little money I was sure of, when dear Mr. M’All kindly granted me, without any payment, his Salle de Conferences at Gare d’lvry, which I chose because of the low, beggarly character and re23utation of the people. There were five women at the first meeting, and now thanks be to God I have 109 on the list, whom we gather every Wednesday. The nice Kiosque which now replaces this Salle is a great improvement; and you will be pleased to learn that one of my friends from Mulhouse holds in an adjoining room a meeting for German women at the same time that I have the meeting for French women in the larger room. One day her surprise and joy were great to see amongst the women one that she had wished to bring to the Saviour when at Mulhouse, and now she has this in view more than ever.

“On the 17th of January we opened at 139 Rue de Rennes another women’s meeting at Mr, M’All’s new station. This part of Paris is inhabited by a better class of people, many of whom are very much engaged in business, and others, especially the women, firmly attached to their forms of worship. Still we have reason to thank God for the thirty women on our list. One of the principal features of that room is that we distribute tracts at the door, and, by a placard, invite women to enter, which brings in a variety of classes, and sometimes leads to interesting incidental conversations.”

We have had frequent occasion to notice the

opening of stations time after time in the different

districts, and the peculiar circumstances connected

with these openings. We give a specimen of the

most recent of these, only some months ago: —

“I was at the new Salle at Rue de Rennes last night, — I think I never was at such an interesting meeting. Three-fourths of

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the people looked as if they never had seen or heard anything of the sort before. When we got there, though it was close upon the hour, there was hardly anybody in the ^alU; but just outside a perfect mob at the door, looking over each other’s heads and shoulders to see what there might be inside, yet not venturing one step within the doorway. When the singing began many came in; and still more, when M. Eouilly began to read a chapter, and the order was gi en to close the door; — then, rather than be quite shut out, they streamed in. During the address the Salle was quite full, and more than full if possible, for when any went out, others filled their places, immediately. The singing was very weak, a sure sign that the people here are new to the whole thing. Such numbers of men, with curious, sharp eyes, evidently trying to make it all out! Some of them bullet -headed, black -handed, rough fellows, but others gentlemen, or at least, men of comfortable position, with their coats buttoned about them, in that self-satisfied way they have. Frenchmen have such a look about them when they are well-off! It says as plainly as words, that they are full of this world; and as for another world, — well, if any one has anything to say about it, they will listen, but won’t promise to be convinced. Pastor Hollard give such a beautiful address, one could have heard a pin fall: they were riveted. His subject was the Good Samaritan. He drew the picture, and then applied it. ‘Do you know the wounded man ] It is you — and I. We have at least two wounds, one in the heart, the other in the conscience;’ and I do think that as he went on, the most self-satisfied man there must have owned he could not say he never felt the smart of the wounds. It was so wisely done, — in appealing to what they could not deny as human, suffering, fallible beings, and then showing them Christ as the only remedy. We sang again, and Dr. Appia spoke before the close.”

In one of our own jails, some time ago, there lay a Romanist under sentence of death. The priest was sent for “to prepare him for his fate,” as some say; to help him “to make his peace with God,” as others would; to ‘’ fortify him with the rites of the Church,” as others would; to ‘’ administer the consolations of religion,” as others would. The priest failed. ‘’ The Church “was nothing to the dying criminal; her “ceremonies” he did not care for; her “purgatory” he did not believe; and her “crucifix” was an idle piece of brass to him. The priest exhausted his appliances; and gave up in despair. But before leaving he told the poor man that perhaps a Protestant minister could do or say something to suit his case. The minister came, and told the guilty man the story of the Substitute, dying “the just for the unjust;” and, it is believed, not in vain.

Some of the Parisian priests seem possessed with the same feeling. They have not been able to do anything for the sinner with all their services and masses. They feel this, and are not disinclined to let a Protestant minister try his hand at it.

“Shall we enter these halls?” says a poor ouvrier, who has not broken with the priesthood.

“Go, if you like,” says the priest; “I can do no more for you.”

‘’ Shall I reason with these ’ re-unionists’?”

“Try,” says the priest.

“Shall I receive their tracts?”

“What sort of tracts are they?”

“There is one on the evil of sin and the blood of Christ.”

“Let me read it.”

He reads it, and as he does, he remarks, —

“Nothing against the Church here; nothing against the Virgin here; a good sort of tract after all. You may read it, if you like.”

“May I read their gospels?”

‘’ I won’t hinder you; they may perhaps do you good.”

From hints we have got, there are some priests in France who, in their hopelessness as to doing anything for the people, are not indisposed to let them do as they like.

“One of our lady- workers,” says Mr. Dodds, in a private letter,” stayed with a lady, now dead, who was a devout Roman Cathohc. She began to read the Bible with her, and had many an interesting conversation with her on its teaching and meaning. She still, however, clung to her religion, and went regularly to confession. On one of these occasions, she told the priest that she was reading the Bible. He replied that she was doing a very good thing. What!’ she said, * is not that forbidden by the Church? ‘He replied, ‘■ Oh, that was in the dark Middle Ages long ago; you are free to read it now.’ She said, * But I am reading it with a Protestant.’

* Well,’ replied the cure, ’ a Protestant could not do better than read that Book; you will get nothing but what is good from it. This shows that there may be, indeed that there are, some secret believers, some enlightened Christians, in the Romish Chnrch. He afterwards expressed a great desire to see this Protestant lady, on hearing of the mission work she was engaged in, speaking warmly in admiration of the work that was being done, and of the sacrifice and self-denial which led the workers to quit their native countries, and devote their time and strength to the good of his countrymen. There is every reason to believe that this Roman Catholic lady died believing in Christ, and that the labours of our friend were blessed to the conversion and enlightenment of her soul.”

“On Wednesday I went,” Mr. Dodds writes also,” to the funeral of a man who has died in peace; he lived just above our ^alU at St. Antoine. He would never enter our meeting, any more than a Roman Catholic Church, and was strict enough even to forbid his wife going to confession. She was a regular attendant at our meeting, and was in the habit of taking home the tracts and books she got there, and giving them to her husband. The truth seems to have found entrance into his heart. He fell ill in the month of November, and died of consumption. He was visited by one of our workers, whose tender care and imfailing sympathy have been used of God to remove prejudices, and lead him to Christ. He does not seem to have said much, but he never wearied (such were his words) of hearing the Bible read, and of prayer. No priest came near him, but one of his relatives paid for a mass to be said in the parish church, and I accompanied the funeral there to witness the solemn mockery, and pretended miracle, of tran substantiation. The service was muttered in a rapid and careless undertone, and it was with difficulty that I could make out even a single word. The moment that mass was finished, the priest turned his Ijack and left the mourners. He had done so much because he had been paid for it, and to accompany them to the cemetery was the last thing he would have thought of. Some of his relatives, — his wife and others, — who had not wished the mass, and could not offer opposition, had asked me to go to the cemetery, and conduct a service at the grave. This I was glad to do, as it gave me an opportunity of preaching the Gospel, and testifying to its power. It was a privilege to turn the thoughts of the bystanders to Christ, as the Saviour from sin and from death, and to repeat his dying words, ‘I trust in the Saviour Jesus Christ, and I am happy.’ He had been a valiant soldier, and on the pall there hung two medals, one of them being from our Queen, for his bravery in the Crimean war. He died before he had time to fight under another banner, but not before he had left a witness behind him of his allegiance to the King of kings. We have reason to believe that his wife has found in her deep sorrow a consolation that not only endures but increases.

“This man is only a type of many of the more intelligent men in Paris, and throughout the cities of France. They are infidels or sceptics, because they have no regard for, but rather hatred against, the Church of Rome, or because they are ignorant of the Gospel, and have never read the Bible, One needs to see the effects and working of this false religion in its own haunts, in order to understand its subtlety and power, and to realise that it is not controversy or discussion, or passionate denunciation of its method and character which will overthrow it, but the simple preaching of the Gospel of Christ, the power of the written Word, and the presence of the Holy Spirit.”

Perhaps one of the most notable features in this movement is its steady progression; not merely in the number of stations; not merely in the increase of attendance; but in the spiritual results which have attended it. Nearly eight years has it gone on, and the interest has not slackened. The attractiveness of the true cross has been proved; and the power of the Gospel to save has been exhibited at all the different stations. Every worker has something to report, either among old or young. The free love of God makes its way wondrously into unlikely hearts, and takes captive unlikely natures. Men listen and wonder, and yield to the declaration of a grace which they had never heard of before, and which they had never supposed to be connected with religion at all.

Writing towards the end of last year (1878), Mr. Dodds thus relates his experience: —

“I never knew of so many, as during these past few weeks, coming to me even here, as well as at the meetings, seeking counsel. Yesterday was ‘La Toussaint,’ when the people visit the cemeteries in great numbers, to mourn for their dead. We had our meeting at Menilmontant, at three in the afternoon, and got many in to hear the Gospel. Signor P.’s address was in his best vein, so tender and true, and I felt there was good done. A man lately come to Paris, who found out this meeting ’ by chance,’ has, we trust, found peace. He and his wife come from Belgium. He attended yesterday both afternoon and evening. He read that little tract ‘Conliance,’ which I re-wrote from one of Moody’s, and it was blessed to him. He is now inquiring about a pastor, and about schools for his children. Last night a young man asked if he might speak, and gave a most happy and convincing testimony. In private he has told me much of his past life. Four months ago, he came to Rivoli station, a sceptic, a lover of the world and its pleasures. A week ago he said to me, ‘I cannot say

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much, but I have got a joy which I never knew before; that is all I can say yet.’ Judge, then, of my surprise last night, when he stood up and told us so boldly, but modestly, of his firm assurance that Christ had saved his soul, and of the peace this assurance gave him. Last Monday a man told me at the close of the reunion that he had only come at the entreaty of a man whom he had only known for a week, when they were patients together in the hospital. He had since died, and his dying request was that this man should go to Gare d’lvry, where he himself used to hear what did him good. I was the more struck by this, that the poor man was totally ignorant of what the Gospel meant. I am deeply interested in some people at Grenelle, that worst of all quarters. On Sabbath evenings we generally have there between two and three hundred people. The Lord is indeed blessing us. Our evangelist, M. S., has good hopes of a young woman who has lately been stirred up to seek the Lord. Not long ago he had a letter from a teacher in the Haute Savoie, a Eonian Catholic district, telling how he had come into the Salle Evangelique one day, had heard the Gospel and received some tracts, and been spoken with at the close; now he writes to ask for counsel, telling of the peace he lias found in Jesus.”

“Fools” and “foolishness” seem to have been words freely used at Corinth of old in connection with the Gospel and the cross. To them the apostle makes frequent reference in his epistles to the church in that city. In this respect, I suppose, Paris and Corinth are very much alike.

“I see you are become a fool,” said an unbelieving friend to one of the converts; “and we must look out for an asylum for you.”

Such was the close of a long conversation, carried far into the night, by the friend just referred to. The believing man was visited by an associate of other days, distinguished in literature and science. The change lately produced was the subject of converse between them; and the difference in their sentiments was soon found to be immense. It was the discovery of this difference, and the Christian’s simple avowal of his faith in the salvation of the Son of God, that drew out the taunt, “I see you are become a fool.”

Yes; he was a fool to be saved so cheaply, and with so little honour to himself! He was a fool, fit only for an asylum, to adopt a religion at all, as a thing of certainty and earnestness. Better no religion; but at least a religion that will do some credit to a man of science, and be worthy of the human intellect! It is the same story now in France, as in Greece of old.

The good man was troubled for a moment at
being thus addressed; but he went to “the Word,”
and his trouble passed away. He was content to
be a fool for Christ’s sake.

Among these fragments I must give the following extract from the journal of M. Pointet regarding the Bible-carriage which, filled with precious stores, moves about from town to town, from village to village, and from fair to fair. It does not directly connect itself with the Paris Mission, but it is strikingly illustrative of the work going on in the land, and is helping greatly to whiten the fields of France: —

“‘The fair of Dun le Roi, where I had aheacly been, and was very much pleased, was good. In spite of snow and rain, which fell heavily, and my cold, which was at its height, I remained working four and a-half hours, having, happily, an abundant supply of books. At the most busy moment I felt the carriage fall forward; Cocote (the horse), worn out with fatigue, had fallen her full length in the mud and across the shaft. She struggled up, but fell again on the other side. As I had only the smallest amount of standing room, by reason of the stores of books, &c., I had great difficulty in disengaging myself, and was in fear of breaking my legs, but got out just in time to save another fall and set the poor animal on her legs, but when taken to the stable she could neither eat nor drink. I returned a good deal upset, but was rejoiced to see half-a-dozen hands held out, waiting their turn. I do not know a greater joy, and my wife and I thanked the Lord. One good woman came to buy a large New Testament; all crowded round her to know what was in it. Giving an expressive shrug, she said good-humouredly, “It speaks about the Republic,” with the air of one who thought it was her rightful business. I turned to the crowd in a moment, and said, “These books do not speak about the Republic, but of that which is, nevertheless, not opposed to it; it speaks of happiness, of free citizenship; but to be truly free and happy, one must have peace of mind. 0 good people, to make a first-rate carriage, you must have the best iron and wood; and to be good Republicans, you must be true Christians.”

“‘At Nerondes, in spite of the heavy snow, the peasants crowded around the carriage, and bought with great interest. “Where is your market, Mr. Innkeeper?” I said. “Oh, it is nothing; don’t go there.” I went, however, in spite of the cold and the piercing north-east wind. Entering the courtyard of the Largest hotel, the host advanced, a comfortablelooking man of forty; there are so many such in France. I breakfast in the hotel, going out at three in the morning, and often not returning till night, when I find myself again seated in the chimney corner by a blazing log. We talk of one thing and another, and at last of the cures, when, innkeeper though he be, he exclaimed, “I’ll have no more to do with them; they teach us lies, and don’t believe them themselves.” At this same market of Baugy, what eagerness there was to buy our large ]^rew Testaments! It was a grand day. All came, and wanted the book. This work over, I led the horse into the sunshine, and went to the nearest .cafe for a cup of coffee. We often do this, that they may not be able to say we are avaricious and only working for gain. Returning, I found a number of my customers around a large store, and began to talk to them. I was struck with the number who did not believe in the existence of God, or of their own soul.’

“Again he writes, ‘Notwithstanding all the discomforts attendant on a work of this kind, our enthusiasm continually increases. We are cheerful and happy, and praise the Master for permitting us to forsake our home, and, carrying our furniture with us, to travel summer and winter, from town to town. We should think ourselves for ever dishonoured if the question were raised of our settling down again in a fixed home. Faith transforms everything; all is changed in passing through the Divine laboratoiy.’

“We find him in May in Orleans, where, as he says, he had * more to fear from his tongue than from Bishop or police.’ The sale went on briskly, and at nine o’clock at night there were more than 500 people round the carriage. ‘But Satan and his emissaries were there too,’ he writes, ’ and menacing threats were hurled at me. A few energetic words stilled them for a moment, only to begin again with renewed force. One man, half a gentleman, shouted with a loud voice, “They are not crying out at your hooks, but because you are a liar, and have done nothing but lie since you stood there.” At this speech more than 200 voices shrieked and howled, and a dozen rough fellows laid hold of the carriage to overturn it. I was, happily, able to jump out. In the midst of the confusion a big man stepped forward, seized my hand, and in a stentorian voice, which silenced the crowd, exclaimed, “I am a Catholic, but I thank you; you are a good man, and I thank you for your words of truth. You try to enlighten us, but they will not understand.” Kever was such testimony less expected or more welcome. For hours this young man had the courage to uphold me and my work. I remounted my carriage, and addressed the Jesuit, challenging him to prove me a liar. He replied that it was false that the cur6s denied the Scriptures to the people. “The laws of the Church ‘pcrmiiUd it.” “Indeed!” said I; “then your ignorance is as great as your bad faith.” More followed, and for days I half expected a visit from the police, but, happily, none had been present.’

“At another gate of the city he was accosted by a man who said he must be more moderate. ‘In what way?’ he asked. * Why, you say the Pope here, and the Pope there.’ * You heard me say that, did you % take care, or you will do as the liars do.’

“Thus exposed to calumny and violence, ‘It is necessary,’ he writes, ‘■ to be careful not only of what one says, but of what one does not say. Ours is a strange work, from one extreme to the other: some days full of encouragement and blessing, others when one’s words fall as if on hard, polished marble, awakening no response or sympathy.’

“‘I always try to begin my remarks with something original. As the people crowded around me, I said to them, “What is it that man needs, to go through life? Good bread, the best wine, plenty of gold and silver; what more can he want? Ah! you may well laugh, for you know that it is possible to be miserable as well as rich; there are plenty of suicides among the rich. What, then, does man really need? Tlu Truth. He was made by God, and for God, and apart from Him there is no peace nor happiness. There is a Book which will tell you what you must do. Remember Him who has said,” Without me you can do nothing.” I began my sale, and in about an hour had disposed of at least fifty New Testaments, till, unhappily, my stock was exhausted.’”

The Mission efforts have not been confined to Parisians or Frenchmen. They have embraced all who could be approached: not only the nations congregated at the great Exhibition, but those members of them permanently resident in Paris, such as the English and German artisans. The classes for the English have been already noticed; but the Mission has not overlooked the Germans; and Mr. Dodds has been able to gather a German meeting, which prospers wonderfully. It is strange that in Paris at this moment, all kinds of efforts seem to succeed; as if some unknown and unexplained influence were at work throughout the whole city, drawing men’s hearts towards faith and truth; so that whatever is done is sure to succeed so far; failure in plans for good being exceptional and rare. The following is the statement by Mr. Bodds, as to the German meeting: —

“At the commencement of the Mission, some work was done

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among the English workmen in the quarter of Montmartre. This has since been taken by other friends, and, until very lately, the work of the Mission has been wholly among the French. Now we have added a meeting for Germans. Many speaking the German language have come to Paris from Alsace and Lorraine, and there are also not a few from Hesse and Prussia. The quarter where we have opened this meeting is La Villette, and the name of the street is ‘Eue d’Allemagne ’ {i.e., Germany Street! ) M. Vischer Sarrasin, of Bale, has kindly sent us a number of hymn-books, many of the hymns being translations from the English. From other friends we have gathered a small library, and begun a meeting once a- week. It has gone on increasing, till it has risen to above seventy persons. One asked for special prayer not long ago, and others have asked eagerly for the loan of Bibles. The German pastors, and several German laymen give most hearty help in this little effort, which we ask the readers of the Quarterly to remember in their prayers.”

Another fragment we give in the shape of an extract from a workman’s letter, dated Paris: —

“For some time I have been a little better; my employer wishes me to work, or he will send me away from the factory. I am so weak that I can never finish my day’s work. I do not gain much money, but I am always happy, because I belong to Christ. On the Sundays, when I am not too tired, I go to the meeting. To-day I have remained the whole day in bed, meditating there on the Holy Book. It is truly the comfort of the poor and suffering. Would that it were known and read by every one! I learn from the newspapers that bold and earnest missionaries from England are preaching the Gospel in all lands, and even at Rome.

“In all the workshops at Paris, the Protestants are well spoken of, and nothing but evil of the priests.

U “I Kke to think, that some day God will have as many Christians in France as in foreign lands. This is my most earnest desire. — Yours truly in Jesus Christ, E P.”

There is a work going on in the French metropolis, almost as various, though not so vast, as in the great cities of our own land. Benevolent and religious schemes are conducted by self-denying Christians, who, without the ostentation of the nun or the monk or the priest, are daily moving about in their quiet offices of mercy, doing a truer work,, and asking no praise. Their influence is felt by the community, while they themselves remain unseen. Their words penetrate and transform; not by reason of their vehemence, but by the calm sincerity with which they are uttered.

The enterprise is quite a peculiar one, and the success has been as peculiar. The method adopted is not in the ordinary run of missions or missionary work: save that it takes for granted that the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation.

What should we say if two or three zealous Frenchmen were to come to London and start twenty-three meetings in different parts of our metropolis? What should we say if these meetings were all successful; every hall filled with the working-men of the city and its suburbs? And what should we say if these meetings, instead of losing their attractiveness, during eight years, increased both in interest and in numbers? Should we not be amazed? Would not all London be stirred to ask. What is it all about?

The phenomenon now exhibited in Paris is just such as the above; and though it does not directly concern us, shall we not be led to ask, What does this mean? Nay, more, shall we not be led to something more practical than bare inquiry, and hasten to the help of the overburdened labourers, chiefly our own kinsmen, in that foreign city?

No mission has ever been carried on so cheaply as Mr. M’All’s. The smallness of the cost is quite amazing. But, then, one reason of this is the amount of self-sacrifice on the part of the workers; not one of whom receives anything like adequate remuneration for his services. This state of things, however, cannot last always; and the Mission must be put upon a less uncertain footing. We must remember that our responsibilities are not exhausted in our admiration of the work, and praise of the self-denying labours of the workers. A decided and energetic effort must be made to establish the Mission securely and permanently. And the sooner the better.

In speaking of the Mission generally, I would remind the reader of its double character; — to young as well as old. That to the young stands greatly in need of help. From nearly the commencement of the Parisian work, the claims of the young had engaged the attention of Mr. M’All. Mr. Heriot entered on a work which had been vigorously prosecuted previously by Mrs. M’All and Madame Rouilly. That sphere of labour demands vigorous effort. It is so important, so interesting, and so large. And we at home are bound to consider how we can best help it forward.

Everywhere throughout Paris we find Christian work going on in some form or other. The city seems just now to resemble a vast old quarry newly reopened, where the different levels and strata show themselves; and the immensity of the work to be done is beginning to be understood. The workmen are few and scattered; some in little groups, some single; perched here and there on heights, or hidden in fissures; carrying on the tedious work of digging, or splitting, or carrying off the stones to their destined position in some house, or palace, or temple.

“Speed boldly, Jean, my son, speed boldly; the safety of God’s elect depends upon thy speed.”

It was a French peasant woman, two hundred years ago, that is said to have spoken these words to her little boy of ten one morning at the door of a cottage which faced a gorge of the Cevennes.

She knew that five hundred of the persecuted were to meet for worship that day among the mountains; and her boy had, from a high rock, caught a glimpse of the soldiers in march to surprise the congregation. She knew that he could reach the hiding-place by ways which the soldiers knew not; and without a moment’s delay she despatched him up the cliffs, with the words, ‘’Speed boldly, Jean, speed boldly.”

It is into this land of the persecuted that the Gospel has again come in power, and is working its way through the nation. Is it to be turned back, or is it to be “resurrection from the dead,” to the cities and villages, where once it was so widely accepted? The crisis is a momentous one, and the urgency is great. There is need of haste, lest the opportunity be lost, and the enemy rush in to undo all that has been done. “Speed boldly,” then, is the message to the present labourers; “the safety of God’s elect depends upon your speed; “lose not a moment. The work is great, the time is short, and the enemy is on the watch. How long his wrath may be curbed, and how long the earth may continue to ‘’ help the woman,” we dare not forecast. Precious is the present season, and wonderful the openings on every side. This season must not be lost; these opportunities must be seized at once.

France’s day of blessing may be also Europe’s day; — Europe armed to the teeth for war, and hopeless of peace, — Europe disintegrated everywhere by infidelity and socialism and ungodliness and lawlessness, — Europe, that in the persons of her princes and statesmen, is trying every method to keep down the dreaded outburst, — except the one, — the only one, — that could accomplish the end, the Gospel of the grace of God.

Unsought for, this one healing influence has found its way into Paris, and shown that it is a power in the earth, a power among nations, a power of which rulers, if they were wise, would, without delay, avail themselves; not to bridle the waves, but to still them; not to chain their peoples, but to put them in possession of a liberty which, instead of overturning thrones, would establish them; a liberty which, instead of letting loose human passions, would transform them into the mutual confidence and kindness between man and man. Paris has already felt the tranquillising influence of the Gospel. Shall not all Europe feel it too? The effects of the present evangelical movement on the kingdoms of the Continent may be far wider than men are disposed to believe. France has for a hundred years been the maelstrom which has kept Europe in unceasing whirl. If the Book of peace,

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cast into this vortex, shall arrest its eddies, the results will be felt beyond both Rhine and Danube.