Church--its architecture and much of its noblest speech. Imagine a world
in which every work which was inspired by the Church, or by the concepts
of religion embodied in it, should be left out. What would we then lack?
We would lack the greatest works of Michelangelo, Raphael, Titian,
Francesca, Botticelli, Murillo; we would not see the cathedrals of
Milan, Strasburg, or Cologne; we would never read the poems of Caedmon,
Milton, or Dante. The hamlet would be without a spire; philanthropy
would be almost unknown; there would be neither night-watch nor
morning-watch of united prayer. We should have no processional of
millions churchward on the Lord's Day, no hymns to stir our souls to joy
and praise, no anthems or oratorios, no ministers, no ecclesiastical
courts and assemblies, no church conventions, no church-schools,
religious societies, nor religious press. All these works and
institutions proclaim the glory of belief, and hand down the religious
traditions and the spiritual aspirations of the generations of men.
Shall we let others share in the mystery and triumph while we stand
apart, silent, unapproving, and alone?

The dreams of the Church are high and holy. There is the dream of
Freedom, of the Freedom of the Soul. It is an inspiring thought this,
the essential democracy of the race. We do not find intellectual
equality of souls. We see each man or woman differently circumstanced,
differently gifted, differently trained. Yet each may say, I am
spiritually free! To me also is given the opportunity of development, of
majesty of character, of high service. The soul is the thrall of none;
nothing can bind it to spiritual serfdom.

Next, there is the dream of Allegiance. Some one has well said: "Wouldst
thou live a great life? Ally thyself with a great cause." Allegiance is
devotion of the whole of ourselves to a leader, a cause. We can no more