sophistries--the half truth.

Your judgment is staggered by two apparently contradictory
facts--it was a fine sermon, yet every idea may be found in the
theological treatise.

To enable you to extricate yourself from the puzzle, ratify your
first opinion and confound the critic; picture another set of
circumstances. You stand before St. Peter's, wrapped in
admiration at this world's wonder.

"Power, glory, strength and beauty, all are aisled
In this eternal ark of worship undefiled."

You are marvelling how did human brains conceive and human hands
embody this mighty dream of art. One of the pest tribe yclept
"critic" comes pitying your simple heart; he leads you to a
quarry, and triumphantly pointing says: "Here every stone of that
building was found. Now, what becomes of the glory simple people
like you bestow on Bramante and Michael Angelo?" How would you
answer him? Easily enough. Make him a present of the quarry, and
ask him to produce another St. Peter's. The challenge is
conclusive. You have him impaled.

Come back now to the library. Present the preacher's critic with
a hundred tomes, give him all this raw material multiplied ten
times over out of which that masterpiece of sacred eloquence was
built, and ask him to enthral those thousands that hung
spellbound on that man's lips, whose thrilled hearts were aflame,
who left the church examining their consciences and vowing better