Mr. Thom was requested to preach a
sermon in the Tron Church of Glasgow on some very particular occasion,
and he brought about half-a-dozen MS. sermons in his pocket, uncertain,
as he said, which would best suit a Glasgow audience. He thought if he
had the opinion of a few friends it might serve as a key to the taste of
the Glasgowegians. He accordingly asked a few acquaintances to join him
in a pipe and tankard of ale in a favourite howff.
"Iím invited to preach a sermon to
you great folks in Glasgow," said he; "and really, I maun after this
think myself a man of some consequence, when I have had such an honour
conferred on me. But as Iím ignorant of what will please your wonderful
nice preaching palates in this big toun, I have brought a few sermons
with me, which Iíll read over to you, that I may judge which will be the
He read them over one by one
accordingly, until he came to the last, and with each they were equally
well pleased; taking it up, he proceeded until he came to a passage that
fairly gravelled his auditors.
"Stop," said they, "read that passage over again,
"Wait a wee till I get to the
end," said Mr. Thorn, and he continued until another halt was called for
"Iíll no tax your patience any
longer," said the orator; this will suit ye exactly; for ye Glasgow
folks admire most what ye least understand!