“But it is a devil of a thing to have too nice a conscience!” quoth the
member of Parliament.
“And it is not an angel of a thing to lose one’s front teeth!” sighed
the fine gentleman.
Therewith my father rose, and, putting his hand into his waistcoat,
_more suo_, delivered his famous
SERMON UPON THE CONNEXION BETWEEN FAITH AND PURPOSE.
Famous it was in our domestic circle. But as yet, it has not gone
beyond. And since the reader, I am sure, does not turn to the Caxton
memoirs with the expectation of finding sermons, so to that circle let
its fame be circumscribed. All I shall say about it is, that it was a
very fine sermon, and that it proved indisputably, to me at least, the
salubrious effects of a saffron bag applied to the great centre of the
nervous system. But the wise Ali saith, that “a fool doth not know what
maketh him look little, neither will he hearken to him that adviseth
him.” I cannot assert that my father’s friends were fools, but they
certainly came under this definition of Folly.