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lines of your favourite poet, the Reverend Alexander Pope (the Poet].
“The gath'ring number as it moves along,
And impresssed with these sublime admonitions, many's the time I have resolved to discard for ever and ever all publications containing the smallest westage of henseggtricity. But here I is! poor weak mortal, and ready to say with the pious mariners, in that beautiful hymn,
“Row, brothers, row,
For the rapids are near,
And the day light is past!" O that I could steer the little bark of my soul in all my literary studies, quite clear of the Falls of Niaggare!"
Now if Mrs. Addlepate could only be convinced that she herself is a very odd sort of a woman, and that her notions of such eccentricity as we defend are silly and eccentric in the objectionable sense, we should have no more of her complaints and denouncements. But she conceives the oddness to be all on the other side, the side of the so called eccentric man, and therefore, though not invulnerable to righteous ridicule, she is callous to all argument. Did she but know the whole extent of her importance, that she is, as to her spirit and propensity to censoriousness, a type and representative of the whole fraternity and sisterhood of Addlepates of all generations, and in all places, and who very ridiculously pretend to principle and conscience for their mischievous pragmaticalness and misrepresentations, we should have no end to her vituperation and refined slander. But we shall have to hear her again.
Mrs. Amiable regrets that she has so often been annoyed by members of the Addlepate family, and grieves heartily that her sex should ever be degraded by ill-natured prattlers of such a description, but is happy to be aware that witty ministers highly appreciate the intelligence, piety, discretion and sweetness of disposition that characterize the vast majority of females who retain membership in Christian churches, or who are at least among the regular congregational attendants at the house of God; and she is very decidedly of opinion that the course we take in checking censoriousness, is likely to be to a very considerable extent successful.
DISAPPOINTMENTS-A PROFESSOR— LITTLE BOOKS.
REPEATED disappointments for many successive years will bring a man to a sort of easy despair of ever obtaining preferment, and it is perhaps well for the peace of his mind, when he can say with the fox, who could not with all his exertions reach the grapes, “they are sour;" for although disappointments and losses are grevious things, yet a man saves himself a world of trouble and labour when he ceases to bother himself, or anybody else, about getting what is never likely to be granted, and which, should it come too late, will be worth nothing.
It has long been the fashion to talk and write about disappointed men,' with a feeling perfectly the reverse of that of sympathy, and to imagine that they are too aspiring, and think too much of themselves. But the disappointers are considered as all right. Of course they are; who ever thinks of blaming them ? Yet there does at least seem some ground for scepticism on this point, when disappointments are so frequent, and promises are so often unfulfilled. We shall, however, know all about it in the day when every secret thing will be brought to light, and it is not likely we shall know it thoroughly before that time. But let us jog on, gentle reader, for we have
a deal to think about before we have done; we can easily anticipate the possibility of some great writers wondering what on earth we are about, and whether we would lead them? We may innocently fancy, for instance, how Professor Tulip, the great Botanist, would smile with scientific contempt upon our hints about what good things we could do in the preaching or lecturing line, if we had “fair play,” which the prime legislator in open conference, some years ago, said we ought to have, though we have not got it yet.
Professor.-"A very fine thing truly, for a man like you to fancy you could shine in a metropolis ! What are your lectures and mental powers compared with my rich articles, and deep speculations, and discoveries in cryptogamic vegetation? Did you ever read my lecture on the Luxuriant Foliage of Turnips, vulgarly called turnip tops ?
Self.—“No, Sir, I confess my ignorance of this noble science of yours. I love turnips with a leg of mutton, as they suit my palate; as to their foliage, I was not aware,
that it ever suggested thoughts for profound investigation, or furnished hints for learned dissertation and eloquent lectures. But you know best. As to preaching, however, I may possibly be allowed to say something. Every man to his trade. You can revel among roses, and butter cups, and daisies, and expose our ignorance to your heart's content; but we cannot help thinking that we could lend a helping hand in hints for great improvements in the pulpit. Only let us not be mis
understood. We are no advocates for elaborated sermons, for habitual or ordinary preaching. We demur to the practice of using the pulpit as the chair of a college professor. We are against taking up the time of a congregation, especially in the rural districts, by a display of verbal criticism. We have known clever men to ruin their pulpit reputation by this practice. Nor do we extol the practice of preaching whole sermons from memory, although a good minister has a right to do this, if he thinks fit, and some do it well. We preach Christ, and the doctrines, virtues, and duties of the New Testament, with plainness, perspicuity, and as much effect as we possibly can."
Professor.--"Hold, Sir !-You are talking about yourself again; and threaten me with a long dissertation. Your subject does not at all interest me, and I have important engagements; I have to finish my essay on the distinctive, original, peculiar, and characteristic differences of the carrot and parsnip classifications.” The Professor makes a formal bow, and hurries home to resume his very important investigations.
Well, reader, now the Professor has left us, we can breathe a little, and proceed. Ordinarily we preach extempore, and sometimes in the true and exact sense of the word; viz., without premediation. Not liking the absurdity of calling any thing extempore, that is previously prepared ; sometimes we use notes, at other times (though very rarely) preach