The Doctor gave us to understand that he was about to deliver the fifth of a series of lectures to young men in great cities. The text was, "The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath;" the subject, "The importance of the Sabbath to young men in great cities."
The text (he observed) involved the principle, that man was not made to observe certain ceremonies and obey certain precepts, but that the observance of rites and laws was enjoined for man's own sake. This principle applied to the institution of the Sabbath. The body, the intellect, the affections—all required the rest which the Sabbath affords. The experiment had been abundantly tried; and it had been invariably found that more could be done, in every department of labour, with the regular observance of the Sabbath as a day of rest than without it. The farmer, the student, the legislator, had all tried it. Man could no more do without the Sabbath than he could do without sleep. Writers on slavery, however they differed on other points, were all agreed on this,—that the withholding of the Sabbath from the slaves in the West Indies, together with the other cruelties inflicted upon them, had materially shortened their lives! (How telescopic, by the way, are our views with regard to evils at a distance! West India slavery never wore the hideous features which slavery presents in the Southern States of America. Slavery even in Cuba, with all its horrors, is far milder than in the United States.) France once presented a fearful example of what a nation would be without a Sabbath. The testimonies of Drs. Spurzheim and Rush were cited in confirmation; also that of a respectable merchant in New York, well known to the preacher, who, after the observation and experience of twenty-five years in that city, declared that of those who kept their counting-houses open on the Sabbath not one had escaped insolvency. A poor boy was apprenticed to an apothecary in a large city. To increase his wages and encourage his efforts, his master gave him a recipe and materials for making blacking on his own account. The blacking was made, and placed in pots in the shop window; but day after day passed, and no purchaser appeared. One Sunday morning, while the shop was open for medicine, before the hour of public service, a person came in, and asked for a pot of blacking. The boy was in the very act of stretching out his hand to reach it, when he reflected it was the Lord's-day. Falteringly, he told the customer it was the Sabbath, and he could not do it. After this the boy went to church. The Tempter there teased him about his folly in losing a customer for his blacking: the boy held in reply that he had done right, and, were the case to occur again, he would do just the same. On Monday morning, as soon as he had taken down the shutters, a person came in, and bought every pot of blacking there was; and the boy found that, after deducting the cost of materials, he had cleared one dollar. With more faith and fortitude than some of you possess (said the preacher), he went and took that dollar—the first he had ever earned—to the Bible Society. That poor boy is still living, and is now a wealthy man.
The preacher said he knew a man, in his own native State of Tennessee, who on his arrival in America had nothing but a pocket Bible; but he made two resolutions,—1st. That he would honour the Sabbath; 2nd. That he would remember his mother. The first dollar he got he sent to her, and declared that he would never forget the Sabbath and his mother. He also was now a wealthy man.
The punishment of Sabbath-breaking was sure, though not immediate. Like the punishment of intemperance or impurity, it would come. Here the celebrated testimony of Sir Matthew Hale was adduced. Dr. Johnson's rules respecting the Sabbath were read, with the observation that no doubt he owed much of his celebrity to their observance. Wilberforce had declared that, at one period of his life, parliamentary duties were so heavy that he would certainly have sunk under them, had it not been for the rest the Sabbath afforded. But the Sabbath was not merely a day of rest,—it was a day for improvement. Where there was no Sabbath, all was bad. The inhabitants of Scotland and New England were distinguished for industry and mental vigour; and they were equally distinguished for observance of the Sabbath. The universal observance of the same day was of great importance. It guarded against neglect. It told upon the ungodly, as was shown by an eloquent induction of circumstances,—the shops closed—the sound of the church-going bell—the throngs of decent worshippers going to and fro, &c.
Young men in great cities (it was observed) were in great danger, chiefly from example. They met with those who were older in sin than themselves—who prided themselves on knowing where the best oysters were sold, the cheapest horses to be hired, or the cheapest boats to be engaged for the Sunday's excursion. Young men were ready to think, "If I don't do this, I may do something worse." The fallacy and danger of this mode of reasoning were exposed. It might be employed to excuse any sin. Public places of amusement were highways to destruction. Ah! how those old people in that little cottage—surrounded with a stone wall—on the hill side—far away—would weep, if they knew their son was treading on the verge of these burning craters! Familiarity with Sabbath-breaking destroyed the sense of guilt. The young medical student when he first visited the dissecting-room, and the soldier when he first stood on the field of battle, were sensible of misgivings, against which repetition only made them proof,—each gradually losing his first sensations.
The desecration of the Sabbath was a greater evil to society than any tyrant could inflict. How would any infringement of civil rights be resisted! Here was an infringement with consequences infinitely more injurious; and yet the press were dumb dogs, and the pulpit itself was not guiltless!
This masterly discourse was read, but read in such a manner as to lose none of its effect. It occupied upwards of an hour. My irresistible impression as I listened was, There is a man of God! Truly a light shining in a dark place; for, as I returned to my lodgings, I found the coffee-houses, oyster-saloons, and theatres all open, just as on any other day, only more thronged with customers. How much such discourses are needed in this place, I leave you to judge from the following extract from the New Orleans Guide:—
"The greatest market-day is Sunday. At break of day the gathering commences,—youth and age—beauty and not so beautiful—all colours, nations, and tongues are co-mingled in one heterogeneous mass of delightful confusion. The traveller who leaves the city without visiting one of the popular markets on Sunday morning has suffered a rare treat to escape him."
On the evening of the next day, being the first Monday in the month, I went to the "Concert" for prayer, which had been announced the day before. It was held in a vestry or a school-room under the church. About sixty or seventy persons were in attendance. When I got there, they were singing the last verse of
"O'er the gloomy Mils of darkness," &c.