Of all
the centuries this is the best century, and of all the decades of the
century this is the best decade, and of all the years of the decade this
is the best year, and of all the months of the year this is the best
month, and of all the nights of the month this is the best night.
[Applause and laughter.] Many of these advantages we trace straight back
to Forefathers' Day, about which I am to speak.
But I must not introduce a new habit into these New England dinners and
confine myself to the one theme. For eighty-one years your speakers have
been accustomed to make the toast announced the point from which they
start, but to which they never return. [Laughter.] So I shall not stick
to my text, but only be particular to have all I say my own, and not
make the mistake of a minister whose sermon was a patchwork from a
variety of authors, to whom he gave no credit. There was an intoxicated
wag in the audience who had read about everything, and he announced the
authors as the minister went on. The clergyman gave an extract without
any credit to the author, and the man in the audience cried out:
"That's Jeremy Taylor." The speaker went on and gave an extract from
another author without credit for it, and the man in the audience said:
"That is John Wesley." The minister gave an extract from another author
without credit for it, and the man in the audience said: "That is George
Whitefield.
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