The Church had surely become, he said, like unto the Giant Pagan in "The Pilgrim's Progress," who, when incapable of doing mischief, sat mumbling at the mouth of his cave on the roadside.

The Church had become toothless, decrepit either for evil or for good.

Its mouthings of the past had become its mumblings of the present.

The cave at the mouth of which this toothless giant sat was very dark; and intelligent people went by with a good-natured and tolerant laugh.
This article was published in the _Review_ on Tuesday.

Phyllis read it on the evening of that day.