And thus we see that as each flea "has
smaller fleas that on him prey," even the critic himself cannot escape
the common lot of being bitten. Whether all this is a blessing or a
curse, like that one which made Pharaoh and all his household run to
their toilet-tables, is a question about which opinions might differ.
The physiologists of the time of Moses--if there were vivisectors other
than priests in those days--would probably have considered that other
plague, of the frogs, as a fortunate opportunity for science, as this
poor little beast has been the souffre-douleur of experimenters and
schoolboys from time immemorial.
But there is a form of criticism to which none will object. It is
impossible to come before a public so alive with sensibilities as this we
live in, with the smallest evidence of a sympathetic disposition, without
making friends in a very unexpected way. Everywhere there are minds
tossing on the unquiet waves of doubt. If you confess to the same
perplexities and uncertainties that torture them, they are grateful for
your companionship. If you have groped your way out of the wilderness in
which you were once wandering with them, they will follow your footsteps,
it may be, and bless you as their deliverer. So, all at once, a writer
finds he has a parish of devout listeners, scattered, it is true, beyond
the reach of any summons but that of a trumpet like the archangel's, to
whom his slight discourse may be of more value than the exhortations they
hear from the pulpit, if these last do not happen to suit their special
needs.
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