I know a minister whose shoe laces I am unworthy to unloose, whose preaching is often little better than a sacred miniature painting--I might almost say holy trifling. He is great upon the ten toes of the beast, the four faces of the cherubim, and the mystical meaning of badger's skins; but the sins of the businessmen, the temptations of the times, and the needs of the age, he scarcely ever touches upon. Such preaching reminds me of a lion engaged in mouse-hunting.