the maturer cults, which have at the same time a more austere,
ornate, and severe priestly life and garb; but it is perceptible
also in the forms and methods of worship of the newer and fresher
sects, whose tastes in respect of priests, vestments, and
sanctuaries are less exacting. The rehearsal of the service (the
term "service" carries a suggestion significant for the point in
question) grows more perfunctory as the cult gains in age and
consistency, and this perfunctoriness of the rehearsal is very
pleasing to the correct devout taste. And with a good reason, for
the fact of its being perfunctory goes to say pointedly that the
master for whom it is performed is exalted above the vulgar need
of actually proficuous service on the part of his servants. They
are unprofitable servants, and there is an honorific implication
for their master in their remaining
unprofitable. It is needless to point out the close analogy at
this point between the priestly office and the office of the
footman. It is pleasing to our sense of what is fitting in these
matters, in either case, to recognize in the obvious
perfunctoriness of the service that it is a pro forma execution
only. There should be no show of agility or of dexterous
manipulation in the execution of the priestly office, such as
might suggest a capacity for turning off the work.

In all this there is of course an obvious implication as to the
temperament, tastes, propensities, and habits of life imputed to
the divinity by worshippers who live under the tradition of these
pecuniary canons of reputability. Through its pervading men's
habits of thought, the principle of conspicuous waste has colored
the worshippers' notions of the divinity and of the relation in
which the human subject stands to him. It is of course in the