"Naturally. The existing ritual is only a compromise. And as for the hymns which are sung, why is it necessary for them to be doggerel before they are devotional?"
"The hymns are for the most part doggerel. We should have a first-rate choir and anthems--not necessarily taken from the Bible. Why should not Shakspere be sung in churches--Shakspere's divine poetry instead of the nonsense-rhymes that people call hymns? Shakspere and Milton; Shelley I would not debar; Wordsworth's sonnets. But the scheme will require a great deal of thought."
"A great deal; that is why I leave it in your hands. You are a thinking man--you are not afraid of tradition."
"Tradition--tradition! the ruts made in the road by the vehicles that have passed over it in years gone by!"
"The road to the Church is sadly in need of macadamizing, Mr. Holland --or, better still, asphalting. Make a bicycle road of it, and you are all right. Now, come with me to my club and have lunch. We'll talk no more just now about this matter."
THERE IS NO ONE I LIKE BETTER THAN PHYLLIS.
Phyllis Ayrton had spent a considerable time pondering over that problem of how best to save a man and a woman from destruction-- social, perhaps; eternal, for certain. She felt that it had been laid upon her to save them both, and she remembered the case of one Jonah, a prophet, who, in endeavoring to escape from the disagreeable duty with which he had been intrusted, had had an experience that was practically unique, even among prophets. She would not try to evade her responsibility in this matter.
A few days after Herbert Courtland had witnessed by the side of Ella the representation of "Carmen," he had met Phyllis at an At Home. He had seen her in the distance through a vista of crowded rooms, and had crushed his way to her side. He could scarcely fail to see the little light that came to her face as she put out her hand to him, nor could her companion of the moment--he was one of the coming men in science, consequently like most coming men, he had been forced into a prominent place in the drawing room--fail to perceive that his farewell moment with that pretty Miss Ayrton had come. She practically turned her back upon him when Herbert Courtland came up.