IMPRISONMENT FOR SUNDAY WORK IN GEORGIA.
By Editor
WHAT A SECULAR PAPER SAYS.
LAST week we told how two of our brethren in Gainesville, Ga., were arrested, tried, and fined for Sunday work. The Eagle, of November 23, a secular paper of that town, expresses its opinion of the matter; and, though evidently believing in Sunday keeping, the editor expresses most forcibly, though indirectly, the true animus of Sunday laws, and all laws for the enforcement of religion. Underneath them all, though unseen by their advocates, is the very spirit which put Christ to death. By sabbath we take it that he means Sunday. The Eagle says:— THE CRIME AND THE PUNISHMENT.
On Monday the pastor of the Seventh-day Adventist Church of this city, and the teacher of a school in the church, were each fined $50 and costs for the offense of disorderly conduct, which consisted in working on Sunday with saw and hammer in the new church building. They were also bound over to the city court for sabbath breaking, which is a State offense. A fine of $50 and costs for disorderly conduct, in which life, limb, or property were not endangered, and in which the doer was in pursuit of a useful occupation, with an honest conviction that he was committing no sin, seems to be cutting the pants too big for the crime. A few days ago several persons, male and female, were up before the mayor's court for raising the tallest kind of Cain at a house of the illest kind of fame. It was proved that they indulged in fighting, crying, cursing, and the firing of pistols. One neighbor testified that he was exceedingly disturbed, that he had gone to bed, and that his pillow was turned into a pillow of thorns while the carousal lasted. These persons were fined $5.00 and costs each, which seemed to satisfy the ends of justice. The fact is, these Adventist gentlemen were not guilty of disorderly conduct. They were guilty of sabbath breaking, and were justly bound over to the city court. The fact of its being Sunday is not an element in creating a case of disorderly conduct. The act itself must be disorderly. The use of saw and hammer is not a source of disturbance on Monday, and when their use becomes so on Sunday, it is sabbath breaking. The public peace cannot be disturbed on Sunday by a thing that would not disturb it on Monday. A man's religious sensibilities might be shocked, but that is not the public peace. The thing which the sound of a saw and hammer on Sunday would be likely to disturb would be a man's heavenly meditations; but the city has no statute against that. When our city laws were enacted, men with heavenly meditations were so scarce that it was not thought worth while to go to the expense of protecting them. We are opposed to all forms of sabbath breaking. We believe in keeping the commandment to the very letter. But who does it? Is it any worse to break the sabbath by conforming to a conscientious religious conviction than it is to break it through a laxity of morals? Is it any worse for the Adventists to saw lumber on Sunday than to run street cars with horses that have worked all week? Our livery stables stand open Sunday and do business. What for? to enable persons to go quickly on errands of mercy?—Oh, no! it is to hire horses to persons in pursuit of business or pleasure, in which the dumb brutes are robbed of their God-given right to rest. It is commanded of God that our horses shall rest on the Sabbath. It is their right, and we cannot take that right away from them without breaking the Sabbath, except in cases of absolute necessity. The man who on Sunday morning hitches up his horses that have worked hard all week, and drives his family out on a jaunt to see his mother-in-law, or his aunt, or to camp meeting, commits a worse sin in the sight of God than he who takes his hoe and works in the field, for he not only breaks the sabbath himself, but compels the unwilling animals to do likewise, and robs them of their rights given them by their Creator. Let us suppose a case: A good old gentleman emerges from his home on a beautiful Sunday morn, dressed in faultless linen and his best Sunday suit. Hymn book in hand, he starts toward the church, his mind absorbed in the contemplation of things divine. He passes the drug store and a crowd of gilded youths smoking cigars which the druggist has just sold. Then further on he has to stop and wait at the crossing for the dust to subside, for many carriages and buggies are passing, going hither and thither on pleasure bent. Then he sees the street cars pass with jingling bells and horses straining their muscles under the heavy load. His attention is not attracted in the least, for these things are usual; he has become accustomed to them. Then he passes the open door of the livery stable, around which a number of men and boys sit and chew tobacco, and talk horse. Inside he sees a number of men hard at work currying horses, washing vehicles, and hitching up teams. But this does not take his mind from the contemplation of divine things, for he has seen it so much, and it has become a matter of course. But he goes on. The birds are singing sweetly, the bees are buzzing in the Mayflowers. All nature is happy— But hark! what is that? A saw—upon my soul! And that saw in the hands of the teacher of a strange religion! "Crucify him!" "Release unto us BARABBAS!"