WITHOUT PREJUDICE

Dominion, Volume 18, Issue 117, 9 February 1924, Page 6

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

NOTES AT RANDOM [During the absence on holtday of ‘•T.D.H.” this column will be conducted by The Postmaster-General of the Irish Free State declares that “for the first time in a thousand jeans we are a going concern.” We had an impression that the Irish had beeu going some long before that. A London West End vicar had to admit the other day that “even women nowadays will stand no more than ten minutes of sermon. Women have had to stand more than their fair share of pulpit censure, if social history is to be relied on. Often chastisement in tho form of the long sermon has Leen hurled at the head of one particular miscreant woman to such an extent in the eighteenth century that when the Ladies’ Almanack was published one of the first laws to be laid down in it was that ministers were “to chastise the sinner, but to make mention of no names.” Most of the chastisement was incurred, as might be expected, for love of finery, though it is not only the fnvolou.- i.„uian i-, wimm iinery appeals. In tho reign of James I, Hall, Bishop of Exeter, often gave the ladies of the court an extremely t ncomforfiable half-hour. “Hear this, ye popinjays of our time, hear this, ye plasterfaced Jezebels, God will one day wash your faces with fire and brimstone.” Queen Caroline, wife of George 11, was partial to the company of learned men, and invited the renowned Whiston, scientist and divi>, to come'bnco a week to acquaint her with the progress of science. One night the Q.ueen, a little bored, turned the subject by requesting Whiston to tell her of her faults. "Your irreverent behaviour at sermon-time in church, ma’am,” came the unflinching answer. A few veeks later she repeated her question. “Madam, I have laid it down as a maxim never to tell any person of more than one fault at a time and never to mention a second until the first i* mended.” No weapon has been more effectual in ending the long sermon than the high pew, and no one has known better how to wield this weapon than Jane Welsh Carlyle. “I turned the depth of tho pew to good account,” she wrote. “When the sermon began 1 made myself, at the bottom of it, a sort of Persian couch out of the praying cushions, laid off my bonnet, and stretched myself out very much at my ease, I seemed to have been thus only one drowsy minute when a sligjit rustling and the words ‘Now to Father, Son, and, Holy Ghost warne-d rn© to put on my bonnet quick and made me aware that I had been last asleep.” There has been handed to me a letter from a correspondent to the manager of The Dominion, asking what ’ loc H means. Toe H, as every soldier knows, is the soldier’s name for Talbot House, which was established at Popennghe during the war for their comfort ana comradeship. Toe H is growing into an Imperial movement, with rituals and symbols and a fraternity imbued with wholesome aspirations, quite tree from tho austerities of the more circumspect Churchmen. It has a marchinn- song, with the name of ‘Rogerum,” which was adapted from an old coon ditty, and they all love it—nobody more than the Prince of IVales, who joined in the singing with hilarious enjoyment at the Guildhall at the recent celebrations of tlie “order/ Three of its manifold verses are: Now there was a rich man and he lived in Jerusal-e-um, Glory alley belurnim. O Rogenim. And he used to live on the fat of the land-e-um. „„ Glory alley belunum. O Uegerum. Chorus — O Rogerum, O Rogerum O-o-o, sling-ammy, ling-animy oreum. O Rogerum. Now there was a poor man and he lived in Jerusal-e-uin. Glory, etc. And ho used to live on the crumbs from the rich man’s tabl-e.-um. Glory, etc. Chorus. Now the poor man he died and he went up to neavt'o-e-uni. Glory, etc. And he sat down on the starboard side of Abraham. Glory, etc. Chorus. Now the rich man he died; but he didn’t fare so well-e-um, Glory, etc. For the devil he came and he popfiea him down to hell-e-um. Glory, etc. The recent function, mentioned above, was in celebration of the eighth anniversary of “Toe H, and was rather impressive. The “ rst event of the day was a birthday thanksgiving se.rvice tn All Hallows Church, of which the Rev. P. B. Clayton, founder of the organisation, is the vicar. This beautiful and ancient city church was crowded by young men who had fought in the war, men who served together there, and are keen to retain the friendships, comprehending all social grades, which were there established. Among them, most noticeably, was the Prince or Wales, who started his war-work as a subaltern. Like nearly all the members present, he wore the peacetime kit of Toe H—a dark hlue blazer adorned with the arms of Ypres. and grey flannel trousers Sir Janies Barrie, a new and much-welcomed member of the, confraternity, wore tlie same kit. Then came a dedication ceremony. The Prince of Wales was conducted to the Chapel of Richard Cour de Lion, on the north side of the altar, in full view of the congregation m the nave. He 'drew aside a curtain, which veiled the sanctuary of the chapel. There were seen a lamp of Grecian design, and a bare sword. The sword was that of Lieutenant Edmund Street. a “very parfait knight.” who was the first officer to serve Talbot House Although in feeble health he did his job in the war until he died, and then his family sent to Toe H a memorial token of £lO, with which the Service Candidates Fund was opened — a fund which is now reaching £BOO.OOO. With the reverence which one good soldier pays to the memory of another, the Prince took up the sword and fixed it. pomt upwards, in a motel stand, there to remain as a guard to the lamp of maintenance burning on the altar of that very great soldier. Richard LionHoart. On the support of tho sword is a sentence from Bunyan: ‘‘Then, said Mr. Valiant, for truth I give my sword to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage.” The Bishop of Willesden dedicated the swore’, the casket, and the burning lamp “to the honour and glory of_ Almighty God, and in memory of his servants, the Elder Brethren of this Hor-sehold.’’