A strange habit obtains in this respect. ... We judge of a man's abilities by what he was at college. He had ability then; but subsequently he learnt nothing, and has forgotten much of what he did learn. His knowledge has dwindled down to the wretched _just enough_:--a fact which is patent. For all that, he is still regarded as an able man. ... Another was rather backward at college, but since then has worked, striven, and succeeded in enlarging his talents. Why should such an one be spoken of as unapt, while we venture to think that we ourselves are well up in every thing, because we were believed to know something fifteen years ago? Moreover, it never seems to be borne in mind that college education merely gives us the key to knowledge and the taste for study. But one is naturally endowed with great ingenuity; what need is there, then, for so much application? The Lord deliver us from these gifted men! They are long-winded, tedious, monotonous, bombastic, and any thing but natural; bearing out what we said above, that a little study removes us from the natural, whereas much study draws us toward it. {283} Our aim should be to have it remarked of our discourses:--"Really, all that is very simple, and precisely what ought to have been said. It is just what I should have said myself had I been called upon to speak." But we shall not attain that stage without much painstaking. Sermons generally are worth what they cost; and our most able men are those who study most. The course sometimes pursued of restricting study to one special subject is a sorry habit. It reminds one very much of a young man whose chief aim is to get his bachelor's degree. But it is further urged:--"No complaints are made; on the contrary, people have been pleased to tell us that they are quite delighted with us." Good God! and has not every one experienced the same! Who, indeed, has not been deluged with compliments? Do you know any one to whom the like has not happened? It would be a great curiosity to discover a preacher, however wretched, tiresome, and insipid he may be, who has not found a few pious souls to bestow on him the alms of a small compliment, or a small lie. He is to be congratulated, indeed, if in addition thereto, after having listened to one of our good preachers, some of them do not come to him and say, with all the subtlety of the serpent:--"Yes, his sermon was very grand, it was magnificent; still, we like your excellent and charming little discourses much better." {284} There is no doubting one's ability after that; and one is tempted to believe himself a Ravignan, or an unrecognized Lacordaire. ... One sees, of course, that there is some exaggeration in all this: nevertheless he is fain to believe the half of it at least. ... Alas! flattery is the ruin of kings--and of preachers also.