THE POOR MAN’S SABBATH.
In a moment of wounded national pride, Sydney Smith once exclaimed: “What a pity it is we have no amusements in England except vice and religion!” The same exclamation might be uttered to-day, and the cause laid at the Anglo-Saxon “unco guid’s” door. It is he who is responsible for the degradation of the British lower classes, by refusing to enable them to elevate their minds on Sundays at the sight of the masterpieces of art which are contained in the museums, or at the sound of the symphonies of Beethoven and Mozart, which might be given to the people at reduced prices on that day. The poor people must choose between vice and religion, and as the wretches know they are not wanted in the churches, they go to the taverns.
It is this same “unco guid” who is responsible for the state of the streets in the large cities of Great Britain by refusing to allow vice to be regulated. If you were to add the amount of immorality to be found in the streets of Paris, Berlin, Vienna, and the other capitals of Europe, no fair-minded Englishman “who knows” would contradict me, if I said that the total thus obtained would be much below the amount supplied by London alone; but the “unco guid” stays at home of an evening, advises you to do the same, and ignoring, or pretending to ignore, what is going on round his own house, he prays for the conversion—of the French.
The “unco guid” thinks that his own future safety is assured, so he prays for his neighbors’. He reminds one of certain Scots, who inhabit two small islands on the west coast of Scotland. Their piety is really most touching. Every Sunday in their churches, they commend to God’s care “the puir inhabitants of the two adjacent islands of Britain and Ireland.”
A few weeks ago, there appeared in a Liverpool paper a letter, signed “A Lover of Reverence,” in which this anonymous person complained of a certain lecturer, who had indulged in profane remarks. “I was not present myself,” he or she said, “but have heard of what took place,” etc. You see, this person was not present, but as a good “Christian,” he hastened to judge. However, this is nothing. In the letter, I read: “Fortunately, there are in Liverpool, a few Christians, like myself, always on the watch, and ever looking after our Maker’s honor.”
Fortunate Liverpool! What a proud position for the Almighty, to be placed in Liverpool under the protection of the “Lover of Reverence!”
Probably this “unco guid” and myself would not agree on the definition of the word profanity, for, if I had written and published such a letter, I would consider myself guilty, not only of profanity, but of blasphemy.
If the “unco guid” is the best product of Christianity, Christianity must be pronounced a ghastly failure, and I should feel inclined to exclaim, with the late Dean Milman, “If all this is Christianity, it is high time we should try something else—say the religion of Christ, for instance.”
