By such movements as that we have objected to, the poor are being driven farther off from Christianity. Suppose this particular Sabbatarian agitation to be successful, where is the gain to religion? Will it not be associated in the minds of those already out of reach of the preaching of the Gospel, with a dog-in-the-manger meddlesomeness, with the claims of rival systems, and the designs of interested priests? What an encouragement would it be to that party represented by the “Lord’s Day Society,” who would avowedly use their triumph as a stepping-stone to further demands—who would stop all trains and conveyances on the Sabbath, except, perhaps, the carriage of the rich—who would ruthlessly sacrifice the health of the working-man by confining him to the filth and closeness of this wilderness of bricks and mortar, and who would erect over the remains of pure and gentle Christianity, a gigantic system of hypocrisy and formalism which would ill conceal the hatred and disgust of all classes for a religion without heart or sincerity!
To treat the working-classes in the spirit of those who are fomenting this agitation, is unjust and cruel, as well as impolitic. The point has been before adverted to, but will bear amplification. Suppose the Rev. Mr. Orthodox, the popular preacher of the West End, discussing this question of “Sabbath desecration” in the squalid apartment (if ever he has found his way there) of John Starveling, the overworked slop-tailor, of Typhus Court, Westminster. To the weighty arguments of the wealthy rector, on the necessity of shutting up all railways and stopping all conveyances, may not the poor underpaid artizan reply, that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath—that God requires mercy, not sacrifice—that the Sunday trip is to him the safety valve of life—that so long as he is obliged to work for six days out of seven, without intermission, to keep body and soul together, the seventh must be devoted to renovation. Let the charge of mammon-worship rest on the right shoulders. If the Crystal Palace Company, who enable this poor man to inhale the pure air and enjoy the beauties of nature, are actuated by sordid motives, how much more are they—and their name is legion—who allow their passion for money-getting to reduce thousands to a life of slavery, and oblige them to regard Sunday not as the Lord’s Day, but only an opportunity to repair their wasted health and energies.
There is not much doubt or danger in the conclusion that whatever tends to ameliorate the condition of the people, to ennoble their tastes, to expand their ideas, or to improve their physical well-being, opens a more favourable field for the influence of religion. The converse of this truth will be seen in the almost hopelessly-irreclaimable state of the adult “dangerous” classes. Religious bodies mistake in shaping their plans as if there were no medium, looked at from a Christian point of view, between the lowest depths of depraved self-indulgence, and the pure aspirations of devotion. They are not exempt from recognising the truth, that all physical, social, and political improvements, as well as the consistency, meekness, and gentleness of the followers of the Gospel, have a bearing upon the spiritual destinies of mankind. When will they cordially acknowledge in their creed that the man who discountenances the mammon-grasping spirit of the age—who promotes the education of the poor—who advocates a reform of prison discipline—who helps to sweeten an unwholesome neighbourhood—who encourages pure and healthy recreation, is doing more to prepare a soil favourable for the reception of religious truth, and to break down the barriers which interpose between the working classes and the religious world than the No-Popery agitator, the loud-mouthed denouncer of “Sabbath desecration,” or the zealous stickler for outward uniformity and formal observances? The one is doing something to repair dilapidated humanity—the other is interposing fresh obstacles to that great desideratum.
FOOTNOTES.
[6] We have diligently read all we have been able to lay our hands upon in favour of the agitation—but only one out of what may be called the “religious newspapers”—the Nonconformist —has, so far as we are aware, discountenanced it. Still it is to be borne in mind that this seeming unanimity is by no means indicative of the same feeling amongst intelligent Evangelicals, in whom a liberalizing leaven is largely at work.
[7] The Divided Sabbath. Remarks concerning the Crystal Palace, now erecting at Sydenham. By the Rev. Wm. Jowett, M.A. London: Seeleys.
[12] The Sabbatarians can scarcely be aware that the Croydon Railway Company now often carry as many as 10,000 pleasure-seekers up and down their line on Sunday.
[15] One journal calls them “the devil’s caterers.”
[18] This beautiful episode has been quoted with admiration by some newspapers, which, if the truth wrapped up in it had been invested with the folds of modern religionism, would, doubtless, have described it as fanaticism. So much depends upon the shape and spirit in which religion is presented. May not some portion of the aversion set down to the thing sometimes result from the mode of its presentation?
[21] This statement may be set down as an exaggeration of the facts. It was, however suggested to the mind of the writer, by the perusal of a striking speech of the Rev. Dr. Campbell’s, at a recent meeting in Manchester, in aid of a Jubilee Fund for the Sunday School Union. In the course of his address, he adverted to “the terrible fact” that if the clergy of all denominations, and the city missionaries, with all their converts and adherents, were removed from the great metropolis, “the blank thereby created would not be very great.” He went on to say that “adult conversions” in London and England were “a rare thing,” and to describe the class as “sealed, unapproachable, unimpressible.” He proceeded in the following strain:—“Were you to multiply your ministers, both Church and Dissent, with real evangelical men, and to build edifices so that each thousand of our adult population should command for its service—if it choose to avail itself of it—such clergymen, or minister, it would very slightly alter the case . . . I have no hesitation in saying, that, unless some other agency than the public ministration of the Word is brought actively into operation, even if we had such an assemblage of gifts and talents concentred in our preachers as the world never saw, we could not do much.” His hope lay only in the influence of Sunday Schools upon the minds of the young.