The desecration of the Sabbath was a greater evil to society than any
tyrant could inflict. How would any infringement of civil rights be
resisted! Here was an infringement with consequences infinitely more
injurious; and yet the press were dumb dogs, and the pulpit itself was
not guiltless!

This masterly discourse was read, but read in such a manner as to lose
none of its effect. It occupied upwards of an hour. My irresistible
impression as I listened was, _There is a man of God!_ Truly a light
shining in a dark place; for, as I returned to my lodgings, I found the
coffee-houses, oyster-saloons, and theatres all open, just as on any
other day, only more thronged with customers. How much such discourses
are needed in this place, I leave you to judge from the following
extract from the _New Orleans Guide_:--

"The greatest market-day is Sunday. At break of day the gathering
commences,--youth and age--beauty and not so beautiful--all colours,
nations, and tongues are co-mingled in one heterogeneous mass of
delightful confusion. The traveller who leaves the city without
visiting one of the popular markets on Sunday morning has suffered a
rare treat to escape him."

On the evening of the next day, being the first Monday in the month, I
went to the "Concert" for prayer, which had been announced the day
before. It was held in a vestry or a school-room under the church.
About sixty or seventy persons were in attendance. When I got there,
they were singing the last verse of

"O'er the gloomy Mils of darkness," &c.