A LAY SERMON FOR CHRISTMAS.

Thames Star, Volume VI, Issue 1866, 26 December 1874, Page 2

A LAY SERMON FOR CHRISTMAS.

, . ,_. d [Especially commended to those Indies and gentlemen—no, those men and women ; no, tbat won't do—Veil then, those mafle and female humans, who have such aa uhfortunate habit of spreading and inventing scanda* lous talcs of eacli other.] He-livet)i best, who loveth best, „ , - - In t)>higrf both great and small: " For the dear God thai, loveth m, He made and loveth all. —CofiKRIDOK. < _ 'Biao day at dinner Gucundera was good enough to tell me a story about myself, which he had heard from a lady of his acquamtahce^ to whom T semi "my*best" compliments/. TJds is the Jute, At m ine o^elbck on the evening * ofUthii 3lst of i November, last, just before, sunset, I was seen leaving \No. 26, Abbeyßoad, St. (John's Wood, leading-two little children by the hand, one of 4n a f nankeen pelisse. Thence' I walked" with thorn to iCharks Boroughbridges, pork and sausage man, No. 22, Upper Theresa Road Here, whilst I left the little girl innocently' eating a polony in the front shop, I and Boroughbridge: retired with theiboyjntp ithe back parlour, where we cut the little boy's throat and made hftn into sausage imeat. The little girl at first could pot understand her brother's absence'; bi|t/ under pretence of taking her to see Hamlet, I led her down to the New Kiver at, Saddler's Wells, where a body of a child'iu a nankeen peKsse was subsequently found, and has never been ;recognised to the present xlay. And this Mrs Lynx can aver, because "Khe saw the whole' transaction with her 6wu eyes, as she told Mr Gucunders. • '

■ I have altered the little detailroF the; ■anecdote somewhat, but this story is, 1.----vow and declare, as true as Mrs Lynx's. Gracious goodness ! how do lies begin ?,» What are the averages' of lying? Is the same amount of lies told about every man, ; and ido we'pretty much all" tell the same amount of lies ? Is Ihe average greater among women than men? Is this a lie I am telling you now ? If I am talking? about you, the odds are, perhaps it is. I look back at some, which rhave been^told about me, and speculate on them with thanks and wonder.; JDear friends have told'them of me ; have told them !o me of imyself. -Have;they not to and; of you, i dear friends ? A, friend of mino was dining at a large dinner party, and a story as true as the sausage story, above given; was told regarding me, by one of the gentlemen. •' Such a man ought not to be spoken to," says Gobemouche, narrating the story,—and such a stoiry 1 Yes, dear Gobemouche, but the; stbr^ Wasn't true j I: liad no more done; the'; wicked deed than I had run away with the Queen of Sheba; Vi ■<>" i\ X; ■;'^'^';:

; I once talked for' some little time with an amiable lady: ifc was for the first time,; and I saw an expression.of surprise on her kind face, which said bs plainly as face could say, "Sir, do you know that up to this moment I had a certain opinion of you, and that I begin to think I have been mistaken or misled." I not only 'know that she had heard evil' reports of me, but I mow who told her — one of those acute fellows, my dear brethren, of whom wo spoke in a previous sermon, who found me out — found put actions that I never did, found out thoughts and sayings; that I never • spoke, and judged ipe accordingly..; • j y i How comes it that the evil; which men say spreads so widely and lasts so long, whilst our good; kind wordsr.don't seem ■ somehow to take root and bear blossom. Is it that in the stony hearts of mankind these pretty flowers can't find a place to grow? Certain it is that scandal is good brisk talk, whereas praise of ono's neighbour is by no means lively hearing. Ah acquaintance grilled, scored, devilled, and served with mustard and qayenno pepper, excited the/ appetite: -whereas a slice of cold friend with currant jelly is but a_ sickly, un'relishirig meat* ' j

I have always longed to know what that story was (or what collection of histories), which a lady had in her mind to whom a servant of mine applied for a place. "Brown Went with a very good character from us, which* indeed, she deserved. But when Mrs Jones read the name of the person out of whose em? ploymenfc Brown came. "That's quite sufficient," says Mrs Jones- " You may -go. *I will never take a servant out of that house." Ah, Mrs Jones,-how I should liko-to know!what that crime was, or what that series cf villanies, which made you determine never to take a servant out of my house? Do you believe in the story of the little boy and tke sausages ? Have you swallowed that little nrinced infant ? Have you devoured ■that young PoloniusP IJpon, my word you have maw enoagh! We, somehow, greedily gobble doWn all stories in which the. characters of our friends are chopped up, and believe wrong of them without inquiry. In a late work written by this hand, I remember making some pathetic remarks about our propensity to oelieve ill of our neighbo'urs-r-andl remember the remarks/, not becauso they were valuable; or novel, or ingenious, but because, within three days ..after they had appeared in print, the moralist who wrote them, walking? home with; a friend, heard a story about another, friend^ which -story"he- straight-' way believed, and which story was, scarcely more true than that sausage fable which is here set down. O mea culpa,/ mea, maxima culpa! But though the preacher trips, shall not the doctrine be good ? Yea, brethren! Here be the .rods,;!}. liOok you, here are the scourges. Chdose me a nice long, swishing, buddy one, light and well-poised in the handle. Pick me out a whipcord thong with some dainty knots in it—and now—we all deserve it—whish, whish, whish! Let us cut each other all round. ;In secula seculoruta. Amen.^ •—Fivm Thackeray's Bound-about Papers. [