Bay State Eternal

As the pressure of examinations grows more and more oppressive, many of the oppressed may be tempted to seek relief by quietly gathering seaweed. They had better confine their activities to weekdays; Massachusetts courts have held that seaweed-gathering on Sunday is punishable by a fine of $50.

This edict may seem unfair--particularly since it applies even if the seaweed threatens to float away before Monday--but it is not a demonstration of the irrational malice of the local judiciary. The ruling merely upholds the state's Sunday Blue Laws.

The Massachusetts sabbatarian statute dates from 1692, the time of the Salem witchcraft trials, and has remained on the books ever since. The heart of the law, now as in the seventeenth century, is, "Whoever on the Lord's Day keeps open his shop, warehouse, or work-house or does any matter of labor, business or work except works of neccesity or charity shall be punished by a fine of not more than $50."

Clamdiggers and bootblacks set up a clamor at this, and eventually, through effective lobbying, were exempted under the law; so were policemen and firemen seeking in order that they could hold Sunday parades. The law has suffered many similar modifications and encroachments in the last 260 years, some of which are not easily explained. The distinction between clamdigging and seaweed gathering is a fine one, and it is difficult to see why it is illegal to play golf but not miniature golf.

A core of good sense, however, lies behind most of the judicial alterations; the ruling that "the work of undertakers is within the exception of works of charity or necessity." shows a laudable concern for sanitation, although the court might have been expected to specify whether embalming is charitable or necessary.

"Taverns" merited particular Puritan attention in 1692. In an attempt at a sober Sabbath, the law maintained that only "travelers, strangers, or lodgers may be entertained in them." Today, however, almost everyone is either a stranger or a traveler.

Dancing on Sunday is more difficult than drinking. In 1935, the legislature amended the law to permit dancing at Sunday weddings, "unless admission is charged," but any other sort of public dancing is illegeal; Saturday night dances end promptly at twelve. This is particularly burdensome when New Year's Eve falls on a Saturday, since all good citizens must greet the New Year by going quietly home.

The state's Blue Laws have been called anachronistic and confining, but they have been upheld as recently as 1947. And, after all, even though you may not spend your Sunday hunting or collecting bills, the courts have specifically held that it is permissable to accept a dog as a gift.