Perhaps I need not say, yet I will say it, that the consistent servant of God, whether at his own table or at his neighbour's, will "take heed unto himself" not even to _seem_ fastidious. There are some men about whom, if you know them, you feel sure that they will _not_ choose the best dish at the table; and there are others, I am afraid, about whom you feel pretty sure that they will. One man will not think, or at least will not seem to think, whether the meat is hot or cold; and another will rather decidedly avoid the latter. Pardon the details; they have something very real to do with our Consistency.
And indeed we have need to ponder Consistency when we come to "the unruly member." It is not often, perhaps, that the risks of the tongue are specially present in a bachelor's life in lodgings. But they are not absent there. Friends come in, and we will suppose that you and they are waited upon at your meal. What does the servant hear? Much talk about other and absent persons? Unkind or flippant criticisms? Idle, frivolous words? Very likely not, thank God; for we do want to remember our Lord. But let us take heed. Nothing is more conspicuously inconsistent in the Christian than needless, unloving discussion of the characters and lives of others; nothing is more keenly noticed when overheard; nothing more breaks the spell of influence for God.
"_Quisquis amat dictis absentum rodere vitam, Hanc mensam vetitam noverit esse sibi._"[11]
[11] POSSIDONIUS: _De Vit‚ Augustini_, c. 22.
Such was the memento which St Augustine had inscribed upon his dining-table. He found it necessary to remind the Bishops (_coÎpiscopi_) whom he entertained not to misuse their ordained tongues. And the Pastors of the nineteenth century need it still, quite as much as it was needed in the fifth.