THE SAILOR’S SABBATH;

OR
A WORD FROM A FRIEND TO SEAMEN.

BY REV. TITUS COAN,
MISSIONARY AT HILO, HAWAIIAN ISLANDS.

Honolulu, Oahu:
PUBLISHED BY THE HAWAIIAN TRACT SOCIETY
1846.

It is a bright feature of the present age, that truth, philanthropy and love, are extending their influences to all classes of men. Among the many objects of benevolent interest the seaman is not forgotten. His temporal and eternal wants have found a place in the hearts of the good. An earnest desire is enkindled in the souls of Christians, to promote the happiness of his whole being—physical, civil, social, intellectual and moral.

This is true of those who ride upon the mountain billow, and brave the loud tempest of mid-ocean; of those who plow the bosom of inland seas, or thread the sinuous coast; and also of those who glide along the more quiet waters of rivers and canals. To this class of men, and more especially to those connected with the Whaling service and their friends, the writer would address a few remarks.

Having been, for more than 20 years, conversant with this vigorous and enterprising portion of our race, he is happy to say that, among the numerous sons of the deep, there are not a few of enlightened, elevated, noble and generous minds, as well as many sincere Christians. Still, it is an undeniable and an affecting fact, that the great mass of seafaring men, are very far from that high standard of excellence, both moral and intellectual, which they might attain. Such improvement and elevation of character as we desire, would carry in it a double blessing; for while it inspired in the sailor self-respect, and clothed him with respectability—while it augmented his happiness in time, and prepared him for a bright immortality, it would also convert him into a friend, a benefactor, and an angel of light to the nations.

Notwithstanding all that oratory and poetry have said and sung of the generous and splendid qualities of the sailor, still such eulogies must be received with much abatement. There is more of fiction, flattery and romance, than of sober truth in them. Jack, after all, has [Pg 2]wandered far from his home and his God. The winds of temptation, like a pressing tempest, have driven him wide from a heavenward course, and the currents of passion have carried him far from the haven of peace. The ocean is covered with wrecks—not of ships, but of men—of men who have broken the ties of country and of kindred—of sons who have sundered the strong cords of a mother’s soul—of brothers who have crushed a tender sister’s heart—of husbands who have wantonly violated the most sacred conjugal vows—of citizens who have trampled on the obligations of allegiance, quenched the fires of patriotism, and plunged into folly and crime. And now, impelled by fear or shame; by remorse or revenge; by desperation or reckless daring, they have left their native shores, hoping to bury their crimes and their names in the vast and profound solitudes of ocean, or forget themselves amidst the strangeness and the bustle of distant realms. In this catalogue may be found many a once fair professor of religion, who has violated the most solemn covenant vows ever witnessed and recorded by High Heaven, and who is now plunging deeper into sin, and hurrying on to a more fearful doom than the dark-souled pagan. This picture, of course, applies to a portion only of seafaring men; but the great mass need reformation on certain important points connected with morality. Among the many which might be named, the only one now selected as the subject of this essay, is, The violation of the Lord’s Day by Seamen generally; but more especially by those connected, directly or remotely, with the Whaling service.

It were easy to show from all history, from observation, and from innumerable facts, that the highest state of civilization, refinement, enterprise, intelligence and temporal prosperity, can never exist without the Sabbath. And the world may be challenged to produce a single instance of a nation, either ancient or modern, which has, without a Sabbath, maintained a pure and unsullied virtue, a sound and vigorous morality, and a spiritual and heavenly religion. Among all nations, and in all time, public and private virtue, and “pure and undefiled religion,” have flourished or declined as the Sabbath has been sacredly kept or wantonly desecrated. Whoever, therefore, shall throw his whole influence on the side of a proper observance of this sacred day, will be a friend and a benefactor of mankind; and he who throws his influence [Pg 3]into the opposite scale, is a practical enemy to his race.

We will now proceed to apply these remarks by an appeal to that class of men who are engaged or interested in a seafaring life, especially to those connected with the whaling service.

I. Our first inquiry is, Why do ships so often leave port on the Lord’s Day?

It has been said—and probably with truth—that more ships leave port on the Sabbath than on any other day of the week. Now why is this? Does it merely happen? or is it done through carelessness and want of consideration? Is it done to pain the hearts of a Sabbath keeping community, and to insult the “Lord of the Sabbath?” Or do the breezes of heaven blow more favorably and more wooingly on that hallowed day? Are seamen in haste to leave parents, brothers, sisters, wives, children and companions? Do they feel impatient of one day’s delay amidst sanctuaries, and Christian privileges, and the cherished scenes of a loved land? Or do they esteem it an act of pious and exhilirating devotion, to spread their white canvas to the winds of heaven, and to move forth upon the bosom of the great deep amidst the chime of church going bells, the solemn peals of the organ, and the glad anthems of the saints? But how often have these slighted melodies been the prelude to the mariner’s death knell! How often have they but a little preceded the funeral dirge which the howling winds have swept over the sailor’s watery grave! And what assurance has the seaman who thus launches forth upon the stormy sea, to pursue his worldly schemes, in open disregard of the command, “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy,” that he will ever again enter the hallowed precincts of the sanctuary, or hear any more the voice of the messenger of peace?

Again we ask; and why does the mariner leave a peaceful port on the Lord’s Day? Does he flatter himself that it will be approved or overlooked by Him who has commanded us to keep this day holy? “The winds and the sea obey” the Sabbath’s Lord, and why not man for whom the Sabbath was made—who was created in the image of the Eternal, endowed with reason, loaded with favors, and invested with the prerogatives of immortality? Why should a dependent creature disregard the will of his protector and benefactor, or offend that “God in whose hand [Pg 4]his breath is?” or provoke that power on whose fiat hangs all destiny? or rush upon the high helmet of Him “Who rides and thunders through the sky?” It cannot be that seamen are under the influence of that false and foolish proverb, “The better the day the better the deed!”

One says, that “By delaying we may lose a fair wind.” True—and it is equally true that you may not. Sometimes you will lose and at other times you will gain a fair wind by a few day’s delay. Ships often beat out of port on the Lord’s Day, against a head wind, and sometimes they are towed out by three, four or five boats, in a dead calm, when, had they remained quietly in port, a fair and favoring breeze would have carried them out on Monday.

Another says, “One day’s delay may make a great difference in our voyage.” True—and this difference may be for the better or it may be for the worse. One day earlier may greatly expedite a voyage by securing a good wind and fair weather, or it may lead into a calm, or drive your ship into a storm which shall shatter her and hurry all on board into a watery tomb. These are all contingencies with which we have nothing to do, and on which true philosophy and true faith will not speculate. All that concerns us is to do right, and in doing this we need fear no evil.

“But,” says one, “We must sail when we are ready. We should be blamed for lying in port after the ship is ready for sea.” Now this, in most cases, is a mere subterfuge—especially where whalers go into port for refreshments. Whale ships lie in port from one to four weeks, according to the pleasure of the master—the term may be prolonged or shortened at his discretion—and he may, usually, fix on any day he chooses in the week for sailing, without fear of being called to account for stopping one day too long. This then, as every one knows, is not the difficulty.

Among a certain class of men there is a strange and unaccountable rage for sailing on the Lord’s day. This rage—to say nothing of its immorality—is often ridiculous. For example. A ship is about ready to sail on Friday; but “Friday is an unlucky day,” and no prudent mariner—who would nail a horse shoe to his main-mast or in his cabin, “to keep the witches off”—would think of sailing on that day; as there are more tales of hurricanes, shipwrecks, and disastrous voyages, in consequence of [Pg 5]leaving port on Friday, than of all the ghosts and witchcraft of New England. And now, as “the bad day” must be passed in port, and as “Sunday is the most fortunate day for sailing;” and moreover, as “one day will not make much difference in a long voyage,” Jack is allowed to take things easily, while “the Old Man” spends Saturday in making calls, bidding farewells, and “doing up last things,” ready to sail “early Sunday morning.”

Should the tables turn, however, and should any delay or disappointment in business make it difficult to be ready for sea on the Lord’s Day, then every nerve is strained to its utmost tension. Jack is at work early and late—all is hurry and confusion—little things are left undone—ship-stores, freight, etc., are thrown pell-mell into the hold and on deck—the sailor or the passenger must take his linen wet from the tub of his washer-woman, or leave it behind; and sometimes the poor laundress is “left in the lurch” without her hard-earned wages, and “the ship must go to sea,” as if the salvation of a world depended on her sailing on this day. This practice is, however, less prevalent than formerly. Many noble-minded and conscientious ship masters are setting a better example. May all soon follow it.

II. Our second inquiry is, Do owners of whale ships know that their vessels whale on the Lord’s Day?

It has been said that they do; and not only so, but that they approve of and expect it. And, furthermore, it is affirmed by many, that they absolutely require it as one of the conditions on which they give their ships to their commanders. It is also said, that many of these ship owners are members of evangelical churches in Nantucket, New Bedford, Fair Haven, New London, Warren, Newport, and other places. Some owners it is said, say nothing to their captains on the subject, and if their ships do but return full no inquiries are made how or on what days the oil was obtained. Now and then a shrewd Yankee Captain “guesses that his pious owners have no objections to his taking oil when he can get it.” A full ship fills the heart with joy, and lights up the countenance with an approving and benignant smile; while a half-filled ship often clouds the brow, excites the spleen, fills the biliary ducts, and disturbs the joyful and generous action of the heart. Especially would this be so, had the crew of the half-filled ship been permitted to rest one day in seven, “according to the commandment.”

[Pg 6]

On land, “the man-servant and the maid servant, the ox and the ass,” may rest on the Sabbath. But other laws prevail on the sea. Here all the servants of Mammon—animate and inanimate—agents and instruments—must work whenever the master calls. The head, the heart, the lungs, the bones, sinews and muscles; together with the ships, boats, oars, harpoons, lines, lances, spades, caldron, fuel, every thing, must be taxed in the all-absorbing effort to secure a little filthy lucre on the Lord’s Day. Were our whaling masters and officers all open and avowed infidels, then this course would be consistent with their principles. But how shall we reconcile it with the principles of those who profess to believe the Scriptures, and especially with professors of religion? No wonder that the scoffer scoffs, and the keen-eyed sceptic thinks he sees insincerity, inconsistency, if not a little spice of infidelity in these professors.

Occasionally a master, an officer or a sailor, hints that he would be glad to rest on the Sabbath according to the dictates of his conscience; but this he may not do but at the risk of losing his ship and being thrown out of employment. When masters and officers are reasoned with on this subject, most of them will frankly acknowledge that the practice is wrong, and utterly indefensible on all moral principles. “But,” say they “our owners are in the fault, you should begin with them, they can stop it if they will.” Very well. We have begun with the owners, just as we are told to do; but this very advice of masters and seamen reminds us of a principle of our depraved natures, viz: a disposition to excuse or to palliate our crimes by casting the blame on others. When our first parents fell, Adam threw the sin upon Eve, and she, in her turn, reproached the serpent as the author of her transgression; but the poor devil had no one on whom to lay his load. The same principle still holds true after a lapse of near 6,000 years—consequently, when the sailor is charged with deliberate Sabbath breaking, he throws the blame upon the master and officers, and they turn it over upon the owners; and the question now arises, on whom will the owners throw their responsibility?

But perhaps these owners, at least the religious part of them, are slandered by those in their employ. This, surely, is possible, as it is a part of the legacy of the pious that “their names shall be cast out as evil.” Moreover, [Pg 7]those who are caught in bad business will often manage to transfer their guilt to others rather than bear it themselves, or relieve themselves of the load by reformation. Should any ship owner feel that an evil and groundless report has been raised against him, he will find it easy to refute it by taking all proper measures to prevent his ships from whaling, &c. on the Lord’s Day, and by securing to all in his employ the privilege, at least, of “remembering the Sabbath day to keep it holy.” And may God speed all those who honestly set their hearts to this good work.

III. Our next inquiry is, Do professors of religion engage in Sabbath Whaling?

It is truly gratifying to know that there are pious ship masters, both in the whaling and the merchant service, who make it a rule never to leave port or to do any unnecessary business on the Lord’s Day. There are a few whale ships whose boats are never lowered to pursue the leviathans of the deep on the Sabbath. No “look out” is kept “at masthead,” and no man on board is compelled to break the laws of his maker. These are bright spots upon a dark ocean. They are cheering stars in the seaman’s lowering firmament. They are heralds and harbingers of day to the benighted and tempest-driven mariner. To such masters, and to all who co-operate with them, we would say:

But, on the other hand, it is painful to see a class of masters, officers and seamen who are professors of the religion of the Lord Jesus, and yet, who do not scruple to violate the sacred laws of the Sabbath by engaging in one of the most arduous and perilous of enterprises; and this too with no better excuse than the love of gain. And, what is more painful still, some of these professedly pious gentlemen, defend this wicked practice with a tenacious stubbornness—and sometimes bitterness even—such as is rarely seen among those who make no pretensions to piety. Some will even go so far as to say, “It is as much our duty to whale on Sunday as to pray or read our Bibles.” Such expressions mark an obtuseness of moral perceptions, or a perverseness of heart not a little shocking [Pg 8]to Christians of tender consciences. Nor will such remarks ever fall from the lips of one who “sets God always before him,” and who lives each day in readiness to meet the Son of Man. Should the messenger of death enter the ship on the Sabbath, what reflecting seaman would not prefer to meet him with his Bible in his hand, or on his knees, rather than be overtaken by him while pursuing his mighty prey upon the bosom of the deep, only to be hurried headlong and quivering before his Judge by the flukes or the jaws of this mad leviathan? “Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when he cometh, shall find watching.”

Some professedly pious captains, in order, perhaps, to hush the upbraidings of conscience, attempt a sort of compromise with their Maker, by laboring so to reconcile “God and Mammon” as to be able to serve both. This class will agree to “do no unnecessary work on the Sabbath,” provided their own interested feelings, and the customs of worldly men may determine what is and what is not necessary, without reference to the word of God. Of course, all such will decide at once, and as by intuition, that Sabbath whaling is a work of necessity. Others go still farther. They will consent to be very pious and hold religious meetings on the Sabbath, WHEN THERE ARE NO WHALES. Of course they always keep a man at “masthead,” on the “look out” for the oil of joy to the whaleman, while the rest look up for “an unction from the Holy One,”—or, in other words, one man looks out for worldly, while the rest look up for heavenly good. Now, should it so happen, that the prayer of this MAST-HEAD MINISTER should be first granted, by “raising a whale” during Divine service, and should he, from his lofty pulpit, cry out “There she blows!” then what a thrill of joy electrifies all his hearers! How soon the lesser desire yields to the greater! How quick and how thrilling the response from the quarter, “Where away! Lower the boats! Bear-a-hand boys!” Now the scene changes. Devotion does not cease, but it is turned into another channel. Prayer, reading, sacred melody, exhortation—all give place to the weightier matter of pursuing this MOVING SEA GOD! The object of devotion thus changed, interest, zeal, fervor, energy, are all quickened and strongly developed.

True, most irreligious men ridicule this kind of piety, [Pg 9]and heartily despise its selfishness and inconsistency. Still, this pious Sabbath whaler, defends his position by saying “Christians must expect to be persecuted for righteousness’ sake. The wicked are always watching professors of religion and sporting with their faults.” Very well. If these religious Sabbath breakers are sure that they are serving God by whaling on his holy day, then let them take courage in spite of the scoffs and sneers of the wicked world, for Christ has said to his disciples, “Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.”

Lord’s Day whalemen often complain that it is hard to maintain religion, and especially so, to keep up Divine service at sea. No doubt it is hard, and perhaps it is impossible to exercise true religion in connection with Sabbath breaking. The two cannot be reconciled. “No man can serve two masters. Ye cannot serve God and Mammon.”

A clergyman was once invited to preach on board a whale ship. The hour for service having arrived, Capt. —— said to the officer of the deck, “Mr. —— call all hands aft.” The crew were soon assembled in the cabin. An “old salt” remaining behind, the Captain inquired, “Where is S——?” “Down in the hold, sir—says he won’t come to meeting, sir?” He was then called again, but to no effect. He had gone down into the blubber hold, and entrenched himself, like a giant in his castle, or a lion in his lair. He was reasoned with, but all to no purpose. He refused to be routed. In his den he sat—and in his den he growled defiance—“I won’t come up.” On this the officer left him and reported to the captain.

The clergyman now asked liberty to go himself and invite the old man in the blubber hold. This granted, he proceeded to the hatchway and kindly invited the iron-hearted tar to come up and attend service. For a moment the old man was silent, but it was only the silence of a dark cloud while it gathers strength for a burst and a roar. At length he raised his stern brow, and with a look of defiance brawled out, “No! I won’t go!” A gentle effort was then made to soften his rigid nerves, but Jack was not to be taken either by storm or stratagem. Again he roared out, “I tell you no! I won’t go there!” [Pg 10]On being asked the reasons for his prejudice against religious services, he again thundered out—“I don’t want any of Captain ——’s religion! One Sunday it is all preach and pray, and the next Sunday it is work! work! catch whales! catch whales! I tell you I don’t want any such religion. No! I won’t go aft to meetin’, and that’s all about it!” The result of this interview was reported to the captain, the services proceeded, and old Jack remained in the blubber room.

IV. Our next inquiry is, Do Clergymen in sea ports and Seamen’s Chaplains preach against Sabbath Whaling?

But why ask this question? Surely the ambassador of Christ will not fail “to declare the whole counsel of God.” Surely the herald of Heaven will keep back no part of his message. Surely the watchman on the ramparts of Zion, will sound the trump of alarm on the approach of danger. Surely the mariner’s friend will not fail to lift his warning voice above the roar of the ocean, when he sees whole fleets steering for a deadly reef, or driving into foaming breakers. Surely he will not suffer the blood of the lost sailor to be required at his hands. Still, it is possible, that through inattention to this subject, or through the unconscious influence of false maxims and customs, some, otherwise faithful ministers of the Lord Jesus, may have failed to discharge their whole duty to this class of Sabbath breakers. Probably many good ministers of the Gospel are not at all aware how extensively—how nearly universally the Sabbath is desecrated by whalemen.

But, we ask again, do ministers who are called to preach to ship owners and seafaring men, labor to enlighten and reform them on this subject?

Very many masters, officers and seamen, assert that they never heard a minister preach against Sabbath whaling until they came to the Sandwich Islands; and some have even intimated that a clergyman who should be faithful in reproving for this sin, would not stop long in New Bedford, Nantucket, &c. Many seamen acknowledge the practice to be wrong, and express surprise that chaplains and other ministers in sea ports do not labor to break it up. Some who were members of evangelical churches in the United States, have declared to the writer, that their pastors, when questioned as to the morality of Sabbath whaling, have expressed the opinion that, “from [Pg 11]the peculiarity of the circumstances, it might be right for them to pursue this business on the Lord’s Day!” This amounted to practical advice, and greatly soothed the troubled consciences of the pious sailors.

Not long since an article appeared in a Seaman’s Journal, purporting to be an extract from the sermon of a seamen’s chaplain, in which the sailor is taught that it is his duty to whale on the Sabbath should his captain command it; and that he need not suffer his conscience to be troubled about it; that the master of the ship takes the responsibility, &c. &c. Is this dealing faithfully with men’s consciences? Does it, like the Bible, press every man with his individual and untransferable responsibility? Will it lead each man to feel the eternal, the immutable truth, that he “must give account of himself to God”—that he must stand or fall to a greater than his earthly master? Does it not look too much like “daubing with untempered mortar”—like preaching “smooth things”—like seeking to please, or fearing to displease men—and like “crying peace when there is no peace?”

But, perhaps, some of these ministers are slandered by seamen. Transgressors are ever seeking excuses or palliations for their sins, and they feel ill at ease till they can persuade themselves or others, that some at least who are called good men, either practice as they do, or approve of their conduct. Many fearless and faithful ministers, and many editors of Christian journals, are not aware of the painful extent to which the sailor is deprived of his Sabbath, nor of the fearful and wide-spread moral evils which flow from the desecration of this sacred day by this class of men.

Were their attention once turned to the subject, and a sufficient array of facts brought before their minds, they would, at once, speak out in tones which should arouse a community which has too long slumbered over the immeasurable interests of seamen. The sailor needs a Sabbath. His whole nature—physical, social, intellectual and moral, needs it; and every true friend—philanthropist, minister and Christian, will rejoice to see this boon of Heaven restored to him.

When the pulpit and the press in our sea ports shall become the trumpet of Jehovah, sounding forth the high sanctions of the Sabbath, and kindly calling on all the weary and storm-rocked sons of ocean, to rest from their [Pg 12]toils on that holy day, and to worship and adore Him who made the deep and the dry land, then may we hope that the time hastens when “the abundance of the sea shall be converted to God.” Then may we look for the day when the peaceful Sabbath sun, as it gilds with golden glory the ocean’s horizon, shall be joyfully hailed by ten-thousands of happy seamen; and when the glad anthem of praise shall, like an incense cloud, roll upward from the bosom of every ocean and sea and navigable water of the world.

V. We now ask, Do Churches discipline their members for whaling, &c. on the Sabbath?

By the arrangement of Christ, and by the common consent of Christendom, ministers of the Gospel and Christian churches, are the public and practical expounders of the Word of God. It follows, of course, that the doctrines and practices of the great mass of Christian professors, will form the standard of morals, and furnish the code of appeal among men. Consequently, if a mistake be made, an error propagated, or a vice practised by Christians generally, this mistake, this error, or this vice, will be viewed as harmless, adopted without scruple, and practised without compunction by mankind. For illustration of this statement we need only refer to the former views and practices of Christians in relation to spirituous liquors, slavery, war, etc.

The world will slumber over any cherished sin so long as ministers of the Gospel and Christian churches slumber over it. The world will call darkness light, bitter sweet, and evil good, so long as ministers and churches do not, in doctrine, discipline, and life, contradict them.

Now the command, “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy,” is just as clear and just as binding as any other law of the decalogue; and its violation has called down as severe and terrible retribution on individuals and on nations as the violation of any other command of Jehovah. How then can a ship master, an officer or a common seaman, who no more scruples to whale on the Lord’s Day than to eat his daily food, be esteemed a member of an evangelical church, and receive a certificate to that effect from his pastor? If we are to take the Bible, and not the maxims and customs of men, for our rule of faith, and our standard of morality, we might as well certify that the man who steals or commits adultery, [Pg 13]is in good and regular standing in the church of Christ, as the professor who thus wilfully, deliberately, and constantly tramples on the Sabbath. The same God who says, “Thou shalt not steal,” &c., says also, “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.” Traditions, maxims, customs, prejudices, doctrines and speculations of men, do not change the IMMUTABLE and IMMACULATE laws of Heaven. Should any church in a Christian land allow its members to engage, on the Sabbath, in agriculture, manufactures or traffic, as on other days of the week—or to fish even, on the rivers, lakes and shores of the country, that church would soon become a taunt and a proverb, an execration and a derision among men. What then is the difference in the morality of the thing, and what shields the professor from censure, when the same worldly, money-seeking passion, is indulged on a broader scale upon the wide ocean?

The missionary church, just gathered from heathenism, would be looked upon as a burlesque and a scandal upon the Christian name, were its members allowed, without rebuke, to sail their canoes, drag their nets, and ply their fishing tackle on the Lord’s Day. And yet the plea of necessity, were it to be admitted at all, would be much more plausible here than in the case of the whalemen. No, every one knows that it is not right to pursue this business as it is pursued by most whalers, whether professors or non-professors.

And this evil is not confined, in its influences, to churches in Christian lands. Its unhappy effects are also felt on heathen shores. Take, for instance, the Hawaiian Islands. These are visited annually by 200 or 300 whale ships, most of whose masters wish to ship more or less natives in the service. Consequently, not a few of the church members are, by the hope of gain, lured to embark in an enterprise where the law of Jehovah has less practical influence over the mind than the love of money. This often brings the pastor into painful collision with ship masters and other interested persons, as, from a sense of duty he cannot, and dare not neglect to teach his flock the sin of engaging in a business in which they will be driven to desecrate God’s holy day.

Nor does the evil stop here. Church members who are thus enticed to violate their solemn vows—by laboring on the Lord’s Day—must be cut off from our fellowship, [Pg 14]while many of their employers from enlightened and Christian lands, are suffered to remain in regular standing, and, so far as we can learn, unrebuked in their respective churches. Ought these things so to be? Is this setting a good or a bad example before these feeble, infant churches, just emerged from the ruins of heathenism? Is this encouraging or opposing the efforts of the benevolent to evangelize and bless the benighted pagan? Is this pleasing to God, the Judge of all? Is it right or is it wrong? Let the candid and the upright answer.

Were the whaling business conducted on Christian and liberal principles, many of the best and most conscientious young men would be encouraged to ship in the service, thus gaining for themselves an honest and competent support, while they benefited their employers. But, as the enterprise is now conducted, sincere Christians, who have been faithfully instructed, and who duly regard their sacred vows to Heaven, cannot engage in it with impunity.

VI. Our next inquiry is, Why do Masters and Officers whale on the Lord’s Day?

One says, “I know it is not right any more than it is right to plant potatoes on the Sabbath. But then it is custom. Every body does it, and it is of no use for one to stop if others don’t. If all the rest would give it up I would!”

But you do not mean to say that you must do every thing that others do; or that you cannot refrain from following every custom around you. Suppose you lived in a community where it was the custom to lie, swear, fight, steal and get drunk, would it not do for you to refrain from such customs till all did so? Scoffing was a custom in the time of Noah, and God poured a flood of wrath upon the custom. “Filthy conversation” and “unrighteous deeds” were the custom of the Sodomites, and God rained a deluge of fiery ruin upon the people. But did Noah and Lot gain nothing by abjuring the customs of their times? No! no! This plea of custom is a weak one—it will not do. All that an independent, self-respecting, God-honoring man will do in such cases is, to determine whether a practice is right, and, if not, to abstain from it, custom to the contrary notwithstanding. There is honor, there is dignity, there is moral sublimity in this. What glory irradiates the brows, and what sacred veneration [Pg 15]enshrines the memories of the bold pioneers—the leaders of high resolve in the cause of human freedom, of temperance and of philanthropy. A noble soul, endowed with decision, independence, manliness, courage and benevolence, will stem the current of popular opinion and abjure prevailing customs, when that opinion and those customs are opposed to truth and righteousness. The timid and the weak may sail before a gentle breeze, float down stream or drift with the tide; but to stem the strong current, and to struggle in the teeth of the tempest, require the nerved arm and the strong heart. And how much more honorable to lead in entering a deadly breach, and in storming a castled foe, than timidly to follow in the rear of a victorious army, simply to share in the spoils.

But custom is not the only excuse. The master often says that his officers would be unwilling to abandon Sabbath whaling, and the officers, in their turn, think that the captain would not consent to such an arrangement. Now this is often so: neither master nor officers are willing to give up the practice. They understand each other, and, like Ananias and Sapphira, agree together to sin against the Lord. Let them look to that matter.

Now and then a master may be found who is truly willing to renounce this business; but his officers oppose. Again, there are officers who would sincerely rejoice to reform this practice, but the captain will not consent. This renders the case truly unpleasant; but to the man who fears God there is but one course to take. Let him say to those who would compel him to violate his conscience, “Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye.” Acts, 4: 19.

Sometimes it is objected that the crew would not consent to renounce Sabbath whaling. They would murmur, mutinize, etc. As every one knows that the master commands and controls the ship, it is enough simply to state this excuse without comment.

“But,” says one, “we are a long way from home.” And is that a reason why you should sin? What if you should never reach home! Would it not be well to seek a “better country?” You may be near your “long home,” and will Sabbath whaling prepare you for it.

“But,” says another, “our voyages are long at the best, and we wish to shorten them as much as possible [Pg 16]that we may get back to our friends.” True—but how do you know that Sabbath whaling will hasten your return. It is with the Lord whether your voyage be a long or a short, a prosperous or a disastrous one. He is able to return you to your friends, or to send you “to that bourn whence no traveller returns.” Will it not be wise to bear in mind this truth, viz: you will shortly embark on a longer voyage and on a shoreless ocean.

Again, it is said by another, “We must get a living.” Then it is to save life that you work on the Lord’s Day. And how much longer will you live by working seven instead of six days in a week? Did a man ever starve because he did not work on the Sabbath?

“But,” replies another, “we have families to support—we must not let them starve. It is our duty to take oil when we can get it.” And is your family in a state of starvation? And do their lives and health depend on your Sabbath whaling? Then, certainly, your excuse is plausible. It will never do to let your wives and children suffer and perish for want of a little extra effort on your part, even though it be on the Lord’s Day. But how happens it that this excuse is as often made by the full fed as by the hungry—by the man worth $50,000 as often as by the man worth only $5? How piously men will sometimes talk in order to justify a wicked practice, and to make others believe what they do not believe themselves!

Next comes up another, and with great assurance asks, “Why does God send whales on the Sabbath if he does not wish us to take them?” This excuse, if it be any thing short of profanity, is almost too absurd to call for a serious reply. As well might the Arabian robber ask why God sends the caravan in the desert, or the ocean pirate inquire why the Almighty brings the merchant ship within the range of his guns and his pikes, unless it be to gratify his thirst for plunder.

But there is another and a more formidable obstacle in the way of the master and officers, and that is, the known or supposed will of the owners that their ships should whale on the Sabbath. This, to many, seems an insuperable difficulty. “The owners,” say they, “require it.” And is it so? What! require that which the master does not require of his slave, the manufacturer of his operatives, or any other employer of his laborers—nay more, what a man does not require of his horse and his ox! [Pg 17]And is it true that the ship owner demands that which the laws of his country do not require, and that which the laws of Heaven forbid! Is it possible that he has framed a law which reads thus—“Seven days shalt thou labor and do all my work; and when these are ended, thou shalt labor other seven days, and thus on till the voyage is over, for there is no Sabbath at sea—there is no rest for the sailor.”

It is a common remark of masters and officers, “If we should refuse to whale on the Sabbath we should never get another ship. We must please our owners or we are out of business.” Then it would be better to be out of business. Yea it would be better to beg your bread from door to door, than to grow rich by doing wrong. “Ye cannot serve two masters.” If ship owners are so illiberal and oppressive as not to allow a Sabbath to those in their employ, then it is time that all good and honest men seek business in which they may act up to the dictates of their consciences. Masters have been heard to say, “Our owners are church members, but they would never give their ships to any who would not whale on Sunday.” For the honor of such men it is to be hoped that this is a mistake. But, if it be true, it only furnishes an illustration of the assertions—“The love of money is the root of all evil.” “He that maketh haste to be rich shall not be innocent;” and “they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition.”

VII. We next inquire why common seamen whale on the Lord’s day.

This is a question of deep interest, as it must effect the temporal and eternal well being of many thousands of sailors.

Perhaps most whale men never stop to ask why they do it. It is a custom and they fall in with it. It is commanded and they do it. But why the custom and the command? “The Sabbath was made for man”—for man generic, i. e. for all men. Why, then, is there no Sabbath for the sailor? No day which he can call his own? No day on which he may not be required to perform the most arduous and perilous labors? No day on which he may rest his weary limbs? No day on which he may retire with his Bible and his God, and feel the calm consciousness of relaxation from toil, and the assurance [Pg 18]that, during these peaceful hours, no mortal may control his muscles or his mind?

It is true that many, and perhaps, most sailors, are willing to whale on the Sabbath. Of course such must bear their own responsibility. But it is also true, that a goodly number would prefer not to labor on that day.—Hundreds of young men are annually shipped from the country. Among these are sometimes found, sober, moral and pious men, who have been taught by religious parents and Christian ministers, to “remember the Sabbath.” Many of these have shipped without dreaming that the service required them to disregard their early instructions, violate the dictates of conscience and trample on a plain command of Jehovah. But what shall they do?—Shall they claim the privileges which the great Creator granted in the beginning, equally to all men? This is denied them! Shall they plead conscience in this matter? This only exposes them to ridicule or to cursing! One mightier than themselves has taken their consciences, their bodies and souls into his own keeping. A mortal has usurped the prerogative of the Eternal, and the trembling sailor must submit in silence. His obedience, his fear, his allegiance, and all his moral obligations have been transferred to a fellow worm. On shore all laborers have a legal right to rest one day in seven; nor do they find it necessary to stipulate beforehand with their employers to that effect. Common law, common custom, common consent, common sense, all award them this privilege, and they take it as Heaven’s boon to all, and without crouching to ask it as a favor at the hand of man. But at sea all is changed. The ship is a little absolute despotism, and the sailor must know no duty paramount to “ship duty.” All will acknowledge that the master should command the ship and govern the crew, and, that the sailor should know his place, obey all proper orders, and cheerfully and faithfully discharge every real duty to his master and to the ship. Nor need this interfere with his freedom of conscience and his duty to his Creator. The laws of God are prior and paramount to all human rules and regulations; and let a ship only be governed with an honest regard to this incontrovertible truth, and no conscientious sailor would find his heart in conflict with the commands of his superiors whom he truly wishes to respect and obey. It is clear that some things should be [Pg 19]done on the Sabbath, such, for instance, as the preservation of life, health and happiness, all of which will imply a proper and necessary care of the ship. Every wise, liberal and Christian commander, will discriminate between things really necessary to be done on this day and those which imagination, or caprice, or custom, or the love of gain, have stamped with the false name of necessary.

It has been remarked that serious and pious men sometimes ship in the whaling service. Others, again, become thoughtful at sea. By reading the Bible, or some other religious book or tract, by listening to preaching, while in some foreign port, or by some other call or agency of Providence, the sailor’s attention may be arrested. Perhaps the sudden death of a shipmate, or the reading of a letter from a pious mother or sister, has solemnized his mind and softened his heart. He feels the importance of religion and the need of a preparation to meet his God. But what can he do? The rules of his ship require of him that which the voice of his conscience and the laws of Heaven forbid. A determination “to obey God rather than man,” brings upon him a mingled tempest of ridicule and wrath. This storm he feels unable to breast. In his inexperience, in the absence of all human counsel and sympathy, and amidst the many trials of his situation, his flesh and his heart shrink from the unequal conflict. He cannot bring his mind to the holy and high resolve to obey the instructions of Christ, “Fear not them that kill the body but are not able to kill the soul.” Instead of this, “the fear of man brings a snare” upon him. For a little while he struggles with his convictions of duty, and then gives up the conflict. He breaks the command, sears his conscience and sinks into stupidity. He may hold on to a perishing hope, or he may go back to the world, and become “ten-fold more the child of hell than before.” Hence the ruinous remark which has passed into a proverb among seamen—“There can be no religion at sea.”

What, then, can the pious sailor do? He should understand that “to fear God and keep his commandments is the whole duty of man.” He should meekly, respectfully and manfully claim his birthright to one day in seven; and if this be denied him, he should, as some have done, calmly and patiently suffer persecution “for righteousness sake,” and for conscience sake. He should [Pg 20]fear God rather than man, and “in well doing commit the keeping of his soul to him as a faithful Creator.” He should cast his burden on that Almighty arm which will one day plead his cause and redress his wrongs. Better that the flesh be cut with the lash, or boiled in the caldron, than that the soul be cast into hell, “Where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched.”

This may be called “preaching mutiny and encouraging insubordination among seamen.” Nothing, however, is farther from the heart of the writer, or from the true interpretation of these remarks. In fact, no true Sabbath keeping seaman ever did or ever will engage in mutiny. This conduct may be expected only from those who do not fear God or regard his Sabbaths. But it will be sufficient to reply to such an ungenerous insinuation, that if this be mutiny, then Daniel, Shadrach, Paul, Peter, yea, all the prophets and apostles, and even Christ himself preached and practiced the same doctrine.

VIII. We next ask, Have ship-masters a right to compel their crews to whale on the Sabbath?

The only legitimate answer to this question is no. 1st. Because the sailor has signed no papers, bonds, instruments, or anything else whatsoever, in which he promises to whale seven days in a week. And moreover, as has been remarked, many do not know at the time of shipping, that such is the practice among whalemen.

2d. Because the civil law does not grant this power to the master. The laws of most Christian States distinctly recognize the Lord’s day, and offer protection to all who wish to observe it. Nowhere, in a free and Christian community, are common laborers compelled by the civil power, to toil on the Sabbath. Wherever the law speaks on this subject, it lifts its voice in favor of a day of rest for the weary laborer, and offers no encouragement to the oppressor who would take this boon from him.

3d. Because the Almighty never gave this power to the master.

In the beginning God gave the Sabbath to man—to all men of every class. It is Heaven’s rich legacy to all—It is inalienable, and no man can take it from his fellow without entrenching on the prerogatives of Jehovah. How then, shall the master of a ship have power to disannul, or to suspend at pleasure, this statute of Heaven, by refusing those under his command, the enjoyment of [Pg 21]that day of rest, which none but the Eternal King, who first gave the boon, can, with impunity, take from them?

On many ships, there are individuals who feel that it is not right to whale on the Lord’s Day, and they never do it but with troubled consciences and uneasy hearts. Now, will a commander take the dread responsibility of forcing and crushing such consciences? Will he consent to pervert the power of his station to intimidate and drive such men to do that, which they and other conscientious and disinterested men, believe to be wrong? Such a spirit is tyranny—it robs a man of a birth-right, as clearly inalienable as those of “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” It is like driving a man headlong over a beetling precipice.

It is said that Napoleon, in the height of his power, made this singularly truthful assertion, “My dominion ceases where that of conscience begins.” Would all men in power act on this principle, bigotry, intolerance, oppression and persecution—social, civil and religious, would soon cease from the earth.

No independent man would be willing to be intimidated, under penalty of brute-force, to read his Bible, or to pray, or to attend Christian worship on the Sabbath. Such an exertion of power would be complained of as a palpable violation of personal right, and as an act of intolerable tyranny. If then, he would not be driven, by compulsion, to the discharge of a moral duty, why should any one exert the power of a temporary station, in compelling men to sin? Masters little realize the solemn responsibility they take upon themselves, in thus abusing the authority with which they are invested. It were enough, for one to break the Sabbath himself, personally, without compelling others to do it. He would then bear only his own individual responsibility. But the case assumes another and a more fearful aspect, when he usurps the power to coerce those under him to do the same. It is sufficiently wicked to laugh and mock at men—impeach their motives, call them “bigots, hypocrites, lazy dogs &c.,” because they express scruples as to the morality of Sabbath whaling. What, then, is the guilt of those who raise the rod of terror, to drive men into this sin? Nor does it at all relieve the case for the master to tell the pious, conscience-troubled sailor, “you have nothing to say in this matter, God will never [Pg 22]punish you for doing your duty to the ship—I will agree to take all the responsibility!” Take a stronger case: A pious sailor ventures tremblingly into the presence of the master, to ask the privilege of “resting on the Sabbath day according to the commandment.” His petition is presented in a meek and respectful manner, and based upon the dictates of conscience and the instructions of the Bible. He is met thus: “Don’t open your head again on that subject!—you teach the crew insubordination!—I can’t hear a word about it!—if you will not do your duty, I will make you!—go forward you * * * !”

This is no fiction—painful cases like the above have occurred—and some of a worse type, where a pious and inoffensive seaman has suffered corporeal punishment for conscience sake. Other cases would occur, should seamen assert their rights in this matter.

But the master who can take this course with the pious and sincere sailor, possesses an unenviable character. He is too near of kin to one who, after having beaten and cursed a part of his crew—calling them after the name of Balaam’s beast, walked rapidly upon the quarter deck, and while heated with passion, and inflated with the consciousness of “a little brief authority,” exclaimed, “I’ll let you know that I am God Almighty of this little world!” [the ship.]

Now there is no need of all this—there is no need of making “ship’s duties” to conflict with moral duties. Every ship-master would soon find his reward in keeping the Sabbath; not only in the approbation of his own conscience, but in the obedience, the social happiness and the improved morals of his crew. So long as seamen are not allowed a Sabbath, so long will their general morals be bad, and their many vices remain unchecked. This is true of every community on earth. Where men are not taught to reverence the high authority of their maker, they will have but little true and heart-felt respect for the authority of man. Consequently, while this is so much the case at sea, owners, masters, officers, and sailors to say nothing of many others, are mutual sufferers in this common evil.

It is cheering, however, to know that there are many exceptions to this dark picture. We trust that there are many masters and officers who respect the laws of God and the rights of conscience. Such will not drive those under [Pg 23]their authority to sin against their Maker. They understand that the doctrine of silent, implicit obedience to all commands, without respect to right or wrong, may do for a machine or a horse, but it will not do for a moral, accountable agent, as it would lead to the wicked absurdity, that a pious sailor must turn pirate should his master command it. Resistance to this dangerous and unholy doctrine, threw Daniel into the den of lions, Shadrach and his fellows into the burning furnace, Paul and the apostles into prisons, martyrs into the flames, and the thirteen American colonies into “the revolution.”

A few more objections, which have not been noticed in the preceding pages, will close the subject.

Some say that they should never fill their ships without whaling on the Sabbath. But how do they know that? Have they ever tried it? There have been a few examples of Sabbath-keeping whalers, and their success has been very much like that of others. But the subject hitherto has been one of theory and vain speculation, rather than of practical experiment. Let one-half of the whaling fleet practice on the principle of keeping the Sabbath for ten years, and then look at their comparative success. The question of pecuniary loss and gain would then be settled on the impartial ground of facts. Till such trial shall have been made, the objection is hasty, ex parte and gratuitous.

But should it be proved, which, as God is true, it never can be, that the whaling business cannot be successfully prosecuted without violating the commands of Jehovah, you will then have proved that it should not be prosecuted at all; for no business is justifiable which requires for its success the breach of any one of God’s laws.

But the question is not to be settled on the principle of pecuniary loss and gain. Were we to admit this test, we might justify the distiller, the rum seller, the smuggler, the robber, the slaver, and the pirate. No! The question is to be tested by higher and holier principles than the love of dollars and cents. Before we suffer ourselves to be too much influenced by such mercenary and delusive motives, it will be well to solve the question proposed by our Savior—“What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”

Others say, “By refusing to whale on Sunday, we might lose our best chances for taking oil. Sometimes we don’t see whales for a whole month or more, then, all at once, we raise a school on the Sabbath, and, if we let these go, we may not have another chance for months to come.” This, to the anxious whaleman, looks like a hard case. He is weary with waiting. “Hope deferred makes his heart sick.” He has not learned to “walk by faith”—to trust in that unseen, that faithful hand which holds all destiny, and which fills or empties our earthly cup of pleasure. The love of gain, the desire of change, the hope of hastening his return to his native land, all fill his mind, and he almost persuades himself that God has sent these whales as a special favor, and with a grant to spend the Sabbath in capturing them. He cannot now feel the truth affirmed of God’s Commandments, that “In keeping them there is great reward.” “No! No!” says the whaleman. [Pg 24]“There will be loss, great loss in it. We shall lose a whale! perhaps a hundred barrel whale! worth $2,000! That is more than poor men can afford to lose!” My brother! you would not speak thus did you believe what God has affirmed, that “Godliness is profitable to all things, having the promise of the life that now is and of that which is to come.” You deny that “In keeping the commandments there is great reward.” This you must settle with your Maker and Judge.

Another asks, “What shall we do with the whale killed on Saturday? We cannot try him out before the Sabbath, and if we wait till Monday we shall lose him. Therefore, if we stop work on Sunday, we must on Saturday also.” This objection looks plausible, to those not acquainted with the facts in the case. But from extensive inquiries of masters and officers in the whaling service, it is believed to be more imaginary than real. Probably the cases would be rare where a whale, or any part of a whale, would be lost by suspending the process of “boiling out” from 12 o’clock on Saturday night till 12 on Sabbath night. At least, this opinion has been expressed by many candid masters and officers.

But as we are not to test the question by the probabilities of temporal loss and gain, it must, like all other moral subjects, be referred “To the Law and the Testimony.” Does the Bible allow the whaler to “look out for whales,” pursue whales, kill, cut in, and boil out whales on the Sabbath, as on other days of the week? We all know better.

Another says, “There is no more harm in whaling than in attending to the sails, and taking a trick at the wheel on the Sabbath.” As this objection belongs to a class which appear more like quibbles than like honest difficulties, it will be dismissed with two brief remarks. 1st. If any sincere inquirer after truth will conscientiously break off from the greater sin of Sabbath whaling, and do “the weightier matters of the law,” he will not long be in the dark as to his duty in smaller things; such as “tything of mint and anise,” etc. First, remove “the beam” from the eye, and then “the mote” will be more clearly seen.

2d. If any sophist wishes to quibble on this subject, let him quibble with himself.

The foregoing remarks have been written with great plainness and freedom, but with the utmost candor and good will, and with an earnest and sincere desire to promote the temporal and eternal welfare of all concerned. In this light they will be received by every honest lover of truth. None will be offended at their plainness, but those who are determined to resist the light “because their deeds are evil.” The sentiments herein expressed are those which the writer is willing to meet, and those which every whaleman, and all others concerned, will meet at the Judgment Day.

May the time hasten when the Sabbath sun shall be hailed joyfully by every seaman—when the Bethel Flag shall wave aloft on every ship, and when every ocean and sea shall echo the glad anthem of the sailor, as his song of praise is borne on the breath of Heaven into the ear of Him “who made the sea and the dry land.”