I am reminded of something which I heard when very young—­the story of a Methodist clergyman in America.  He was preaching at a camp meeting, and he was preaching upon the miracle of Joshua, and he began his sermon with this sentence:  “My hearers, there are three motions of the sun.  The first is the straightforward or direct motion of the sun; the second is the retrograde or backward motion of the sun; and the third is the motion mentioned in our text—­’the sun stood still.’”

Now, gentlemen, I don’t know whether you see the application of the story—­I hope you do.  The after-dinner orator at first begins and goes straight forward—­that is the straightforward motion of the sun.  Next he goes back and begins to repeat himself—­that is the backward motion of the sun.  At last he has the good sense to bring himself to the end, and that is the motion mentioned in our text, as the sun stood still.

ENGLAND, MOTHER OF NATIONS

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON

Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen:—­It is pleasant to me to meet this great and brilliant company, and doubly pleasant to see the faces of so many distinguished persons on this platform.  But I have known all these persons already.  When I was at home, they were as near to me as they are to you.  The arguments of the League and its leader are known to all friends of free trade.  The gaieties and genius, the political, the social, the parietal wit of “Punch” go duly every fortnight to every boy and girl in Boston and New York.  Sir, when I came to sea, I found the “History of Europe” on the ship’s cabin table, the property of the captain;—­a sort of program or play-bill to tell the seafaring New Englander what he shall find on landing here.  And as for Dombey, sir, there is no land where paper exists to print on, where it is not found; no man who can read, that does not read it, and, if he can not, he finds some charitable pair of eyes that can, and hears it.

But these things are not for me to say; these compliments tho true, would better come from one who felt and understood these merits more.  I am not here to exchange civilities with you, but rather to speak on that which I am sure interests these gentlemen more than their own praises; of that which is good in holidays and working-days, the same in one century and in another century.  That which lures a solitary American in the woods with the wish to see England, is the moral peculiarity of the Saxon race,—­its commanding sense of right and wrong,—­the love and devotion to that,—­this is the imperial trait, which arms them with the scepter of the globe.  It is this which lies at the foundation of that aristocratic character, which certainly wanders into strange vagaries, so that its origin is often lost sight of, but which, if it should lose this, would find itself paralyzed; and in trade, and in the mechanic’s shop, gives that honesty in performance, that thoroughness and solidity of work, which is a