God of my Fathers

I have heard many curious stories illustrative of that veneration with which the Sabbath is regarded in Scotland. Let me mention one or two. A geolo gist, while in the country, and having his pocket hammer with him, took it out and was chipping the rock on the way-side, for examination. His proceed ings did not escape the quick eye and ready tongue of an old Scotch woman. “What are you doing there, man?” “Don’t you see? I'm breaking a stone.” “Y'are doing mair than that: y’are break ing the Sabbath.” Another old woman's inquiry of one who, on the Sabbath-day, passed her on the road, singing as he went, was equally characteristic. It was very brief. “Songs, man, or psalms?" Now, I am well aware that many readers will at once say, “What ultra severity " " and will be only able to see something absurd and ridiculous in these sayings. Others, among whom I readily number myself, will view them in a light altogether different—as apt, amusing, and characteristic, no doubt, but as most valuable testimonies to the strong religious feeling of the people, and to that habitual decision with which many among them carry out those scriptural princi ples, regarding the observance of the Lord's-day, which they have imbibed in their childhood, and put into practice from Sabbath to Sabbath during the course of their lives.—Trench.