PUNCH'S SERMON TO THE BAKER.

New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 545, 5 July 1851, Page 3

PUNCH'S SERMON TO THE BAKER.

Master Baker, ntnncl forth ? Alone let us tnke a turn or bo in the Adda. It in twd-time, and, blithely as hope the Bower casts the grain abroad; arid every grain, to grow, must bp sound at heart. It' musty or ant-bitten, it wiii rot m the dark earth • if true at the core the grain will quicken and ;nit forth its blade of tender green. Another (urn, and the wheat is up ; is waring in tho airs offipring. A not lioi, and tho ears hang thick, and the farmer begins to count his gains. Another, and we hear tha nicUo biting tho golden crop. Man has worked, and God hns blessed his labour. A thousand shocks of coin arc the glorious trophies of that wellwon fifld. Oh Master Huker, does not your heart try to leap—but cannot, it is too big—with thankfulness'} You could drop upon your knees among tho stubblo, Oh, flluater Baker,and send up whisperings of gratitude, —up, up, with tho lark above you, —the lark that sings, and sings flio anthem of tho harvest. Oh, Mnator linker, you are overwrought by tho heavenly goodness, tliodivine beauty, that hos around you. Yes,' you are; it may be—nay, I will bo positive, you are—a civic baker; a baker unused to tho deep delights, in their ravishing fulness, of country life. Tho Right of that field, bo full of goodness, of natural truth, has been too much for you. Let us return to your shop. We are homo again; and now lot us descend to your bakery. Why, what is tins ' Baker, it dwells within us to compel your utteianco. So, you turn pale, and your knees Knock, ns'at the accusing inquest of weights. —Speak? What thing is this? linker. —Alum. And this 1 Baker.— Chalk. And this' lialtn. —Lime. And thin? And this? And thin' Hafar.—Stnrch, plaster, pulp of potatoes, mashed beans, subcarbonate of — Tlmt will do. And, Baker, for what purpose have you these commodities'* Baker.—For what ? Why, please your goodness, Sir, nnd don't 1 sell the best whoaton broad ? Wo 'vo always hnd'ein, Sir ; father hail 'em before me ; though perhaps, he used 'cm with a smaller hand than Ins son; but tlion, Sir, sons hvo in other times than their fathers. Now when 1 look at the alum and my eldest boy, Sam; whmi [ consider the chalk, und think of Bob; when my mind waudeis to tho plaster, and I remoinber tho cleverness of Jack ; foi Sir, that's it — What's ill— Baler.—Why, that'll it. As tho world comes to more brains, it comes (o cheat the cleverer. The linkor of to-day despises the baker of Ins ancestors. Alum is only (mother word ior biains, nnd chalk means intellect. That's a truth — .Sdence, Oh Baker, and no enthusiasm! Jinlcrr. — I must. A truth, as true as tho counter. Tiuth, Oh, Master Holcori nnd have you forgotten the field of wheat? Tho field of truth ? Did not every giain of wheat become wheat? Was it changed, juggled into weeds—was it transformed to beans—did it bulgo inlo potatoes? More : did one wholesome giam become a grain of poison I Did not wheat, return T/!ioat,av, ioity, fift)-lold— pure and piofitable? Oh, Master Baker, $i field of coin is (ion's field; but your loaves—loaves a\ ith ultim, chalk, mid plaster—are loauM* of tho Devil. >' Vim, ol'lh" Uovil, Oh Master TJaUr; and the Devil wear, his u-liMt hoi us, fehows Ins hool at tho worst, and aniu Ins tail with its tdmrpeat haib, when— entering the anatomy of a bakei— ho.M'lN the infernal loaf, the loaf damned wiih chalk andpl'isUr, for the best wheaten bioad. And, Oh Master linker, dealer in chalk, plaster, nnd bo forth, whntnn admirable book-keeper is tho Devil? Not the benefit, the nftei-henefit of a single loaf wiU you 10-e. Does not your alum " increase your )icld" of biea.l, nnd shall it not be put to y ur eternal [irof i ' And then, alum, taken with Dnily IJicml, tells its daily tale upon the stomach of tho customer ; a matter to bo fiiilmiUy recorded. CnnmnVrlln', Ob Mmtfr Baker; and thinking of that lovely Seld of wheat, think (or a moment upon the fu>iy poppien that h?io and tli.vo burned among the Btulkft, and bo thinking, take hoed of your aitor conscience. /T , And when, in the fuincus of liio till, you—(l speak to the honest Baker)—ictiro from business, think how Hwcet—how comfoitmgwill be your Sunday visits to your parish church. For you. Oh Master Baknr, have trodden Uum under your foet-jou have never dealt in plaster—you have manfully eschewed clay—you have defied tho prohtahlo temptation of bean-llour—ot potato p;ilp-of rice—oi chalk. You have not vended a diurnal Mam for a household trvfh ; you have sold tho whoaten fltuff, as it was grown by eauh and heaven; and thu.s, with no wrong upon >our conscience—wilk no di»p.iHL-d stomach cf man or child to lay to your account— with no iniquity of adulteration to answer for you may, with a light hoart, Oh Master Baker, think of every loaf of your past life with a serene heart, and, so thinking, with a pure and hopeful spnit inako that universal petition—woula that uro as the tbroobings of the hopeful human heart— n ••Givi: us Tins D.w ouu D.mi.y Biikad.