One might almost say that he has intellectualised the Sermon on the Mount, dissected the Prodigal Son as a study in psychology, and taken the heart out of the Fourth Gospel.

His usefulness, however, is of a high order.  With the sole exception of Dean Inge, no front bench Churchman has displayed a more admirable courage in confronting democracy and challenging its Materialistic politics.  Moreover, although he modestly doubts his effectiveness as a public speaker, he has shown an acute judgment in these attacks which has not been lost upon the steadier minds in the Labour world of the north.  Perhaps he has done as much as any man up there to convince an embittered and disillusioned proletariat that it must accept the inevitable rulings of economic law.

His courage in this matter is all the more praiseworthy because he seems to be convinced, to speak in general terms, that the religion of Christ is now rejected by the democracy.  It needs, therefore, great strength of mind to face a body of men who have lost all interest in his religion, and to address them not only as economist and historian but as one who still believes that Christianity bestows a power which sets at defiance all the worst that circumstance and condition can do to the soul of man.

In these addresses he puts aside the materialistic dreams of the social reformer as impractical and dangerous.

Ideal reconstructions of society, pictures of “The Kingdom of God upon earth,” to use a popular but perilous phrase, are not greatly serviceable to human progress.  They may even turn men aside from the road of actual progress, for the indulgence of philanthropic imagination neither strengthens the will in self-sacrifice, nor illumines the practical judgment.

His argument then leads him to question the justification of the social reformer’s oratory.  “Let us be on our guard,” he says, “against exaggeration.”

I am sure that great harm is being done at the present time by the reckless denunciation of the existing social order, often by men who have no special knowledge either of the history of society, or of the present situation.  Hypnotised by their own enthusiasm, they allow themselves to use language which is not only altogether excessive, but also highly inflammatory.  I am bound honestly to say that I think some of the clergy are great offenders in this respect.  Having created or stimulated popular discontent by such rhetorical exaggeration, they point to the discontent as itself sufficient proof of the existence of social oppression.  They are immersed in a fallacy.

With boldness he carries the war into the camp of his enemies: 

There is much food for thought in the notorious fact that the critics of existing society, so far from being able to count upon the popular discontent, are compelled to organise an elaborate system of defaming propaganda in order to induce the multitude to believe themselves oppressed.

He charges the social reformer with an immoral idealism.  The worker is encouraged to prolong his work, is taught that he may with perfect justice adopt the policy of ca’ canny, seeing that his first duty is, not to his master, but to his wife and children.