SIXTEEN years ago, I travelled in Scotland. Great was my delight at the marked observance of the Sabbath day. It was such as I had never seen in any other country. I was staying near the banks of the beautiful Clyde, but saw not the smoke of a single steamboat darkening the silver surface of the water on the hallowed day of rest.
I again visited Scotland in 1854, and lamented to see placards announcing “Sunday Pleasure trips.” As one vessel, filled with Sabbath-breakers, glided past Dumbarton Castle on the hallowed day, I was told that she bore the name of the “Emperor.” The following affecting fact, which transpired in California, was immediately brought to mind.
In a quiet village, situated on the shores of a beautiful lake, lived a man of some wealth and independent manners. He disregarded the Sabbath entirely, and pursued his business or pleasure, as best suited his convenience. He commenced building a boat, principally for pleasure excursions on the lake. While he was proceeding with the boat it was whispered abroad that it would afford opportunity for Sabbath sailing. The man was called on by a minister, who inquired about the matter, and expostulated with him; as the enterprise would be likely to increase the wildness and immorality of the village.
“I am afraid,” said the minister, “your boat will prove a Sabbath-breaker.”
The man looked him in the face, and with much assurance said: “Yes it will; that’s just what I’ll name my boat. I’ve been thinking some time what to call her, and you have just hit it. I thank you for the suggestion. The boat shall be called ‘The Sabbath Breaker‘.”
As he said this, he bade the minister good-day with a sarcastic smile at his evident distress. The building went on and especially on Sabbath. She was soon ready to launch, and was launched on Sabbath, and named “The Sabbath Breaker,” amid the cheers of some twenty or thirty half intoxicated men.
An old sailor or two shook their heads at the way in which she struck the water. She was rigged and fitted for an excursion. She must go out on a Sabbath. A general invitation was given, and numbers crowded on board. On the streamer was floating the name, in large letters, “The Sabbath Breaker.” She put out. Several, seized by an indefinite dread as they read the name of the boat, sprang on shore. Others would have done so, but she was off. She sailed well enough for a while. The timid felt reassured, and the music and mirth began. But scarcely four hours had elapsed when the boat was struck by a flaw of wind, which came very suddenly upon her. Confusion reigned on board; scarcely an effort was made. She heeled almost instantly over, and went to the bottom. Now, what an out-cry! But soon all was over. Forty souls, mostly youths, had found a watery grave, and just above the surface of the lake floated the streamer bearing the inscription, “The Sabbath Breaker,” proclaiming to all who witnessed the sad scene, “Verily, He is a God that judgeth in the earth.”
* Many of the older readers of the Magazine will remember the above incident. It is taken from an old volume of the Christian Treasury and has lessons for our day, when on every side our mad Sabbath desecration stands rebuked by solemn events in judgment.—W.G.