The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1852-11-09 00:00:00

Notwithtandi

behind, the

THERE is an old gentleman in Everton so extremely
careful of his health that he makes a point of airing his
umbrella before using it, for fear of taking cold.

PRONUNCIATION.—The

the name c

lily way in which you can
horse Tschitickckoff is by a
slight clearing of the throat.

'ollowed b

between Sir Watkin Lewis and

. be your butt no longer."
said Wilkes, " I hate an empty

rmer said

DN'T GO 1
addy ; " I

CORK to-

Padd

moon h

t he car

is no occasion to let a fly

—Always do as the sun does, look at
ght side of things. For while it is just as cheap, it
ree times as good for digestion. The melancholy man
t even relish wedlock.

GOOD ADVICE

A CLIENT once burst into a flood of tears after he had
ard the statement made by his advocate, Connsellor
exclaimed—" I did not think I had
.ed half so much 'till I heard i 1 this day."
ICED SHUTER

rran, and I

s explained his reason for preferring
ar stockings with holes, to having them darned : "A
sole," said he, " may be the accident of a day, and will
pass upon the best gentleman, but a darn is premeditate(
p6rert "

I had at one time for a co-curate a very impulsive and
rather democratic man. Our rector was an aristocrat.
One Sunday he had delivered himself of a sermon in which
he incidentally justified family pride, and spoke in a man-
ner that must have been offensive to any poor person of
any intelligence or independence ; and, as we were leaving
,pty the church, my brother curate exclaimed, with unaffected
indignation, " Well, that crowns —'s toadying
courses. Such pulpit flunkeyism is intolerable. But I'll
there y administer an antidote next Sunday—see if I don't. Like
11;.- 1
ht. and I staid to F

erod's worms, our rector's pride is eating him up.
did not attempt to dissuade him : our rector treated both
of us with a condescension that was anything but flatter-
ing, and he thought more of being a " gentleman" (upon
which he was always indirectly vaunting himself) than of
being a Christian, forgetting what Coleridge said, that
there was no real gentleman without he was a Christian.
Next Sunday morning my co-curate carried out his threat.'
He told me nothing about how he proposed to manage or
mould his discourse : so judge my surprise when, mount-
ing the pulpit, he gave out, as his text, the 3d chapter of
Luke, part of the 23d, and the whole of the 24th, 25th,
26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th, 31st, 32d, 32d, 34th, 35th,
36th, 37th, and 38th verses ; "in which (he continued)
will be found the following words ;" and then to the mar-
vel of the whole congregation, who turned towards the
pulpit with eyes and mouth open, he read right through
the sixteen verses, beginning with " Joseph, which was
; the son of Hell," and ending with, " which was the son
of Enos, which was the son of

Seth, which was the son of
Adam, which was the son of God." Every one is familiar
with the peculiar and strange effect upon the ear of the
repetition of the words, " which was the son," " which
was the son," when even occurring in the reading desk ;
but in the pulpit, as a prefix to a sermon in the shape of
a text, they sounded oddly. The rector looked at me as
if for an explanation, and I did not know where to look,
while the principal persons in the parish manifestly came
to the conclusion that my brother curate was gone mad.
But, if he were, he soon showed them there was method

of these

sixteen verses a discourse that might have served as an
essay on the republican legend of " Liberty, Equality,
and Fraternity." The reader has probably anticipated me
in the use he made of his long text.
" Here," said he, " we have a genealogical tree, not
traced by the flattery of sycophants nor the uncertainty
of heralds, but by the unerring evangelist. whose inspira-
tion enabled him to mount from branch to branch—a
genealogy beginning with God, and ending, so far as my
text goes, with a poor Galilean carpenter. Here is a les-
son and a rebuke for the pride of descent : the poorest
carpenter, in the poorest village of England, can retrace
his lineage through the same unbroken succession, and
the proudest peer can do no more, unless the latter in his
presumption would be disposed to ignore his divine origin.
But it would be no use : by whatever different branches,
they arrive at the same root : the noble and the peasant,
if both had the power of going back over their ancestry,
would both meet at the 38th verse of the third chapter of
Luke, ' Which was the son of Enos, which was the son
of Seth, which was the son of Adam, which was the son
of God.' Here," he continued, looking at the rector and
the squire's pews,—" here we all meet on equal terms—
disown them as we like in other degrees, here we are
brought face to face with and can no longer refuse to
acknowledge our poor relations : " then, looking to some
forms on which a group of almshouse people sat, he added
—" Here, too, my poor friends, you and your superiors'
meet in the presence of your common parent, the great
God of heaven and earth, in whose eyes the factitious dis-
tinctions of the world are nought : cold shoulder you as
they like through life, they cannot ignore their relation-
rhips when they come to this—they can no longer speak
of you, spurn you, as though you were formed of different
clay. The carpenter and the king are one ; and how little
importance St. Luke, who was no sycophant genealogist,
attaches even to the regal office, may be seen from the
manner in which he passes through the 31st verse, where
no pause is made to mark the proud title of David, which
was merely the son of Jesse, which was the son of Obed,
and so on."

In conclusion he urged the poor man to live up to his
great origin, and not disentitle himself to that great share
in the inheritance which his heavenly Father had laid up
for his children who truly serve him. They need not care
for the proud man disowning them now—the thing to be
feared was God disowning them on the last day. The
rich he enjoined to feel for the poor as for brothers if
they would not offend that great Being who had a father's
interest in all.
I thought the rector would never forgive my co-curate ;
but the only notice he took of the eccentric discourse was
to cease for ever after preaching to the " humbler orders"
of the deference they owed their superiors. It was before
so bad that a neighbouring clergyman said to me, "If
your rector had to put on an eleventh commandment it
would run thus—" Thou shalt not neglect to take off thy
hat to myself and the squire."—A Curate's Notes.