You Englishmen and Englishwomen, the Primate went on, leaning forward and looking into the myriads of upturned faces, should lay these thoughts to heart. The prophetic vision is not concerned with the kings of the earth alone. No king can stand without national support, and the nation is made up of individuals. Stands England where she did? Was Great Britain worthy of continued greatness, and able to maintain it? Think of her history! “England, bound in with the triumphant sea, whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege of watery Neptune.” Would this dear England ever be “bound in with shame, with inky blots and rotten parchment bonds?” This England, that was wont to conquer others! If we loved England, then in a just quarrel we must fight for England, holding the “water-walled bulwarks still secure, and confident from foreign purposes,”--pulsing the “little body with a mighty heart.” Each man must bear his part, a part worthy of his nationality, inspired with the belief of the English statesman whose statue stood in the heart of London--that life is a great and honourable calling, not a mean and grovelling thing to be shuffled through. In some sense they had regarded themselves as a chosen people. Let them remember that older nation once chosen, but now scattered and oppressed. High above the towering dome of that cathedral where they worshipped, the cross stood out year after year--a warning, a symbol, an inspiration. It meant self-sacrifice. Self-sacrifice was the watchword, and the example, of the great Captain of their salvation. Nothing would avail an England, or an Englishman, ashamed to confess the faith of Christ crucified, a deserter of the banner under which Christians were pledged to continue faithful soldiers and servants until their lives’ end. A Christ-less England would be an England lost! And how would England stand without the witness of the ancient Church in England? The Babylonian king set up a god of gold on the plain of Dura; but had not a god of gold been set up in many an English heart? “Born a man, and died a grocer!” Could epitaph be more withering in its contempt and irony? Yet an honest grocer was better than a dishonest Christian. If we were a nation of shopkeepers and our only shrine was the till, let us at least be honest shopkeepers--not a nation of hypocrites as well; let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die! Yes, better an honest pagan than a bogus Christian. A thrill went through the vast congregation, eagerly listening to the preacher’s words; and, as he paused, a pallid man, dressed in the fashion of the day, started to his feet, his hands outstretched, and cried with a loud voice, “What shall we do to be saved?”