household to another, as he proceeded, something
in this manner. (For William Peabody:) do I find on this holy day that I
love God in all his glorious universe, more than the image even of
Liberty, which hath ensnared and enslaved the soul of many a man on the
coin of this world? (For buxom Mrs. Jane, in her vandyke:) Do I stifle
the vanity of good looks and comfortable circumstances under a plain
garb? (For the jovial Captain:) Am I not over hasty in pursuit of carnal
enjoyment? (For Mr. Oliver: who was wiping his brow with the Declaration
of Independence,) and eager over much for the good opinion of men, when
I should be quietly serving them without report? (For Mrs. Carrack and
her son:) And what are pomp and fashion, but the painted signs of good
living where there is no life? These (he continued,) are all outward,
mere pretences to put off our duty, and the care of our souls. Yea, we
may have churches, schools, hospitals abounding--but these are mere lath
and mortar, if we have not also within our own hearts, a church where
the pure worship ever goeth on, a school where the true knowledge is
taught, a hospital, the door whereof standeth constantly open, into
which our fellow-creatures are welcomed and where their infirmities are
first cared for with all kindness and tenderness. If these be our
inclinings this day, let us be reasonably thankful on this Thanksgiving
morning. Let such as are in health be thankful for their good case; and
such as are out of health be thankful that they are no worse. Let such
as are rich be thankful for their wealth, (if it hath been honestly come
by;) and let such as are poor be thankful that they have no such charge
upon their souls. Let old folks be thankful for their wisdom in knowing
that young folks are fools; and let young ones be thankful that they may
live to see the time when they may use the same privilege. Let lean
folks be thankful for their spare ribs, which are not a burthen in the
harvest-field; fat folks may laugh at lean ones, and grow fatter every
day. Let married folks be thankful for blessings both little and great;
let bachelors and old maids be thankful for the privilege of kissing
other folks' babies, and great good may it do them.

With what a glow of mutual friendship the quaint preacher was warming
the plain old meeting-house on that thanksgiving day!

Finally, and to conclude, (he went on in the language of a chronicle of
the time:)--Let no man look upon a tu