The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1869-04-06
nlistellnnp.
A Lie weilStuck TO.
ny HENRY WARD BEECHER.


In the nursery time of our life, lies
Of small magnitude we called "stories,"
and we have sadly learned since, that
stories are very often lies; and grotes
tesque story--an odd or funny one--is
destined, if one may say 80, 10 Il. short
Immortality,
Many stories that have been walking
up and down the earth since the food,
are told to day of living public men, as
undoubted and veritable. Many stand
ing jokes are traceable TO the Middle Ages,
they re-appear in the Roman history, and
may be found again in old Greek antho-
logies, and probably the Greeks borrowed
them from yet older people, and they
from the antedluvians. 1t adds to the
relish of these primitive Joe Millers to
hear them recited by some innocent friend,
with guarantee, Il know this story is
true, for it happened to Deacon Blossom"
And here arises very curious question,
which Prof. Porter, in his recent admir-
able treatise on Mental Philosophy, seems
to have investigated in manner not
worthy of his usual thoroughness-the
question. we mean, whether a man can
remember thing which never happened
TO him
At first sight any one will say he can
not. But such judgment will force n
great many good men and women into a
gulf of fbs. Either people can distinctly
remember what never happened TO
them, or else the standard and staple
jokes of society are sustained by false
witness.
We draw back from such an unchar-
table construction, and avow our belief
that under peculiar conditions man may
remember, distinctly, not only what never
happened to HIM, but things that never
happened at all
a case in our history shall Illustrate
this matter. Some eighteen or nineteen
years ago, soon after our coming to Brook
lyn we heard the following story told of
the now venerable DR.. Samuel Cox, the
father of many brilliant sayings, as well as
of Bishop Cox, Of western New York
he story ran thus; 'On Sunday morn
ing in August, DR.. Cox, rising to the ser
mon, without warning or prefix, began,
1T is id hot Looking around in a
calm and pious way, he wiped his fore
head, and again said, 1T is d-d hot
Waiting until he thought the words had
burnt in, he proceeded. These words, my
brethren, heard from the lips of profane
young man as | entered the doors of the
church. Thereupon the story goes, he
proceeded to give an edifying discourse on
the sin and folly of profane swearing.
When we first heard it, we recognized
the story, 1t was an old acquaintance
1t had been doing service in England -
1t was told of Rev. Rowland Hill, only
in his case, the topic was not the weather,
but the theatre, on which the young
mans profanity was expended. But stocb
stories, like couriers, like TO change horses
Before we knew it, the saddle was SHIFTED
to our back, nor have we ever been abll
to shake it off, We have denied it, twic,
in print, many times by letter, and hun
dred times in conversation, all in vain
The saddle sticks and every month VI
find new fool riding in it. 1t turns u
in newspapers periodically. 1t runs tn
rounds of neighborhoods. Some peopl
are delighted with the smartness of it,ant
"would walk fifty miles to hear that maj
preach )" and others are shocked at sucl
lmpiety, and mourniully shaking thei
heads, declare that it would be breakin
Sunday to hear such fellow preach,
I The story was sent to us from England