To morrow will be Sabbath day, said the Clockmaker; I guess we’ll bide where we be till Monday.  I like a Sabbath in the country—­all natur seems at rest.  There’s a cheerfulness in the day here, you don’t find in towns.  You have natur before you here, and nothin but art there.  The deathy stillness of a town, and the barred windows, and shut shops, and empty streets, and great long lines of big brick buildins, look melancholy.  It seems as if life had ceased tickin, but there had’nt been time for decay to take hold on there; as if day had broke, but man slept.  I can’t describe exactly what I mean, but I always feel kinder gloomy and whamblecropt there.  Now in the country its jist what it ought to be—­a day of rest for man and beast from labor.  When a man rises on the Sabbath, and looks out on the sunny fields and wavin crops, his heart feels proper grateful, and he says, come, this is a splendid day, aint it? let’s get ready and put on our bettermost close, and go to meetin.  His first thought is prayerfully to render thanks; and then when he goes to worship he meets all his neighbors, and he knows them all, and they are glad to see each other, and if any two on ’em hant exactly gee’d together durin the week, why they meet on kind of neutral ground, and the minister or neighbours make peace atween them.  But it tante so in towns.  You don’t know no one you meet there.  Its the worship of neighbors, but its the worship of strangers, too, for neighbors don’t know nor care about each other.  Yes, I love a Sabbath in the country.  While uttering this soliloquy, he took up a pamphlet from the table, and turning to the title page, said, have you ever seen this here book on the “Elder Controversy.” [Footnote:  A Controversy on the subject of Infant Baptism.] This author’s friends say its a clincher; they say he has sealed up Elder’s mouth as tight as a bottle.  No, said I, I have not; I have heard of it, but never read it.  In my opinion the subject has been exhausted already, and admits of nothing new bein said upon it.  These religious controversies are a serious injury to the cause of true religion; they are deeply deplored by the good and moderate men of all parties.  It has already embraced several denominations in the dispute in this Province, and I hear the agitation has extended to New Brunswick, where it will doubtless be renewed with equal zeal.  I am told all the pamphlets are exceptionable in point of temper, and this one in particular, which not only ascribes the most unworthy motives to its antagonist, but contains some very unjustifiable and gratuitous attacks, upon other sects unconnected with the dispute.  The author has injured his own cause, for an intemperate advocate is more dangerous than an open foe.  There is no doubt on it, said the Clockmaker, it is as clear as mud, and you are not the only one that thinks so, I tell you.  About the hottest time of the dispute, I