FullReads

This morning picture may give a good specimen of the whole livelong Sunday, which presented only an alternation of similar scenes until sunset, when a universal unchaining of tongues and a general scamper proclaimed that the “sun was down.”

But, it may be asked, what was the result of all this strictness? Did it not disgust you with the Sabbath and with religion? No, it did not. It did not, because it was the result of no unkindly feeling, but of consistent principle; and consistency of principle is what even children learn to appreciate and revere. The law of obedience and of reverence for the Sabbath was constraining so equally on the young and the old, that its claims came to be regarded like those immutable laws of nature, which no one thinks of being out of patience with, though they sometimes bear hard on personal convenience. The effect of the system was to ingrain into our character a veneration for the Sabbath which no friction of after life would ever efface. I have lived to wander in many climates and foreign lands, where the Sabbath is an unknown name, or where it is only recognized by noisy mirth; but never has the day returned without bringing with it a breathing of religious awe, and even a yearning for the unbroken stillness, the placid repose, and the simple devotion of the Puritan Sabbath.

ANOTHER SCENE.

“How late we are this morning!” said Mrs. Roberts to her husband, glancing hurriedly at the clock, as they were sitting down to breakfast on a Sabbath morning. “Really, it is a shame to us to be so late Sundays. I wonder John and Henry are not up yet; Hannah, did you speak to them?”

“Yes, ma’am, but I could not make them mind; they said it was Sunday, and that we always have breakfast later Sundays.”

“Well, it is a shame to us, I must say,” said Mrs. Roberts, sitting down to the table. “I never lie late myself unless something in particular happens. Last night I was out very late, and Sabbath before last I had a bad headache.”

“Well, well, my dear,” said Mr. Roberts, “it is not worth while to worry yourself about it; Sunday is a day of rest; every body indulges a little of a Sunday morning, it is so very natural, you know; one’s work done up, one feels like taking a little rest.”

“Well, I must say it was not the way my mother brought me up,” said Mrs. Roberts; “and I really can’t feel it to be right.”

This last part of the discourse had been listened to by two sleepy-looking boys, who had, meanwhile, taken their seats at table with that listless air which is the result of late sleeping.

“O, by the by, my dear, what did you give for those hams Saturday?” said Mr. Roberts.

“Eleven cents a pound, I believe,” replied Mrs. Roberts; “but Stephens and Philips have some much nicer, canvas and all, for ten cents. I think we had better get our things at Stephens and Philips’s in future, my dear.”

“Why? are they much cheaper?”

“O, a great deal; but I forget it is Sunday. We ought to be thinking of other things. Boys, have you looked over your Sunday school lesson?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Now, how strange! and here it wants only half an hour of the time, and you are not dressed either. Now, see the bad effects of not being up in time.”

The boys looked sullen, and said “they were up as soon as any one else in the house.”

“Well, your father and I had some excuse, because we were out late last night; you ought to have been up full three hours ago, and to have been all ready, with your lessons learned. Now, what do you suppose you shall do?”

“O mother, do let us stay at home this one morning; we don’t know the lesson, and it won’t do any good for us to go.”