faith is assailed not only with scoffs of old as Celsus and Julian, but
also with the keenest intellectual criticism of Divine revelation, the
opposition of alleged scientific facts, and a Corinthian worldliness
whose motto is "Eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." In many places
Christian homes are dying out. Crime and impurity are coming in as a
flood, and anarchy raises its hated form in a land where all men are
equal before the law. The lines between the Church and the world are
dim. Never did greater problems confront a council of the Church. An
Apostolic Church has a graver work than discussion about its name or the
amending of its canons and rubrics. I fear that some of this unbelief
is a revolt from a caricature of God. These mechanical ideas about the
universe are the outcome of a mechanical theology which has lost sight
of the Fatherhood of God. There is much honest unbelief. In these
yearnings of humanity, in its clubs, brotherhoods, and orders, in their
readiness to share all things with their brothers, I see unconscious
prophecies of the brotherhood of all men as the children of one God and
Father. Denunciation will not silence unbelief. The name infidel has
lost its terrors. There in only one remedy. It is in the spirit, the
power, and the love of Jesus Christ. Philosophy cannot touch the want.
It offers no hand to grasp, no Saviour to trust, no God to save. When
men see in us the hand, the heart, and the love of Christ, they will
believe in the brotherhood of men and the Fatherhood of God.

There was nothing which impressed your bishops in the late visit to
England more than the service in the cathedral at Durham. The church,
with its thousand years of history was thronged. The chants were sung
by two thousand choristers in surplices. The sermon was preached by the
Bishop of Western New York. This grand service was to set apart some
Bible readers and lay-preachers to go into the collieries to tell these
toilers of the love of Jesus Christ. The same awful problems stare us