have these noble stories, so exquisite in their simplicity, had their freshness and gloss blurred by sheer stupidity.
What has been wanted in England has been definite teaching, and for illustration incidents in the daily life of the people, taken from their work, their experiences, or from the preacher's own remembrances. Instead of good, nourishing, fresh teaching in the early Victorian period, we had mere wish-wash.
And the style! No action, no swell and fall of voice, no flash of the eye, no quiver in the tones, as though what was spoken came from the heart. Such might be found in the Evangelical churches. Everywhere else, drab, drab, drab. Deans and bishops as well in their allocations, drab, drab, drab.
I am by no means sure that an ordinary congregation does not appreciate most highly drab, not merely as the prevailing, but as the sole tint in a sermon, and that it resents the introduction of a touch of pure colour, much as a man objects to be hit between his eyes, or a drowsy man to be shaken into wakefulness. Religious people generally like to be stroked down, and dislike being roughed up. One of the most popular of the early popes was Damasus, who, because his female audience had itching ears, so dealt with them as to acquire the designation of "Ear-scratcher to the ladies."
In one of the Spectator's is given an account of a young lady greatly addicted to licking chalk. It did her no harm, but it certainly did her no good. I think that those who court preachers of pious inanities may be classed with the chalk-licker. Yet, it must be borne in mind, that to seek after and relish Ideas, demands a mental receptivity all do not possess, and that those lacking such qualification have to be fed on what they appreciate and can digest. You do not give a sheep a bite off a beef-steak, but grass, grass only.
I believe that an ordinary congregation resents such an introduction as a living idea, just as a man would beat off a spark from his pipe that fell on his coat or trouser; or as a seasoned churchgoer resents hearing the lessons read from the Revised Version.
A congregation of the usual type really enjoys a Barmecide banquet of words without substance, where emptiness is served up in choice porcelain, and void cups of gold are presented to the banqueters; so far from resenting warm water, when the covers
