it was also unmistakable. In one of the passages heard distinctly the preacher said: "A dean said sermons were dull," and he went on, "they have no business to be dull, and if a man can only preach dull sermons he has no business to preach at all." The emphasis of the preacher was very pronounced.
Seen by a Press representative on his return from Blackheath. Dr. Boon was particularly gratified to hear of the success of the experiment. "It was not the same as preaching to a congregation," he remarked, "but I have no doubt it has come to stay. It commands a wide field in which to spread the Gospel, and although it has yet to be perfected, I am convinced it will prove a valuable means of bringing the Gospel into the very homes of the people."—Glasgow Herald.
Chaplinising the Pulpit.
The latest pioneer is Dr. Boon, President of the Peckham Christian Union, who yesterday had his sermon at Blackheath broadcast by wireless, so that it was heard "as distinctly as if he had been among them" by his own congregation at Peckham. In this way may the radio be a boon and a blessing to men in many places. No longer need we tolerate a dull preacher, for we shall be able to switch on the inspired and inspiring eloquence of some prince of the pulpit. But what is to become of the dull preachers? Who will go to see a second-class film if, thanks to the duplication and broadcasting of films, Charlie Chaplin is able to appear simultaneously in every part of the civilised globe? Who will sit out a second-rate sermon when it is possible to subscribe to the best preachers as easily as taking out a ticket for Mudie's Library? "My ambition," says Dr. Boon, "is to make this Church a centre for transmitting sacred music and addresses on Sunday evenings." We foresee the immediate formation of a League for the Protection of Preachers against the Chaplinising of the Pulpit.
