When Christ went about in Galilee and told men. that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand, was he mistaken? Or is the fellowship which he founded not itself a part of that kingdom, the seed which is already growing and spreading throughout the whole earth? Many strange fowls, perhaps, we may think, have lodged in its branches already; but if the fellowship be strong and true they cannot do it great harm, and under its shelter may live not only these but a host of singing birds. The great thing that all have to remember is that members of the fellowship must needs hand on to others the life that has been given to them. That great title by which the Pope is known as Vicar of Christ upon earth is not an idle one: every good Christian Pope has been that to some extent, and so, too, has every Christian disciple, in so far as he lives in the Master's spirit. For language grows old so quickly, that we forget that the vicar is one who acts instead of another, in his place, just as vicarious suffering is suffering borne by one on behalf and instead of another. But we need to explain and translate the appellation "Vicar of Christ" into daily life by means of that other noble title which shines like a jewel at the head of every Papal bull and rescript "servus servorum Dei," servant of the servants of God. The Vicar of Christ will show himself such by serving his [p.109] fellow-men with his whole life, ungrudgingly and gladly, knowing that every act and thought given to their welfare is given to God, and that the Father would have men seek Him not afar from human life and labour, but amidst the toil and sorrow of that sinful humanity for whom Christ died. When we seek to find how far this ideal is being carried out within the Christian Church, we may well be saddened by our own failure, and by the way in which organizations intended for the common service have come to be treated as an end in themselves. Yet we must remember that in the ancient liturgies, which seem sometimes hard for the democratic modern mind to under- stand, the priest does not speak or act for himself, but as a representative of the whole fellowship of the Church; the cries and prayers and strivings of long generations of human lives are joined in the words of the prayers that he uses, and the beautiful ritual of the altar is intended to be a living picture of spiritual symbols, full of meaning not only for himself, but for all who worship with him. This view of prayer finds fitting expression in a sonnet of Hartley Coleridge on The Liturgy, which deserves to be better known. /Oft as I hear the Apostolic voice/ /Speaking to God, I blame my heart so cold,/ /That with those words, so good, so pure and old,/ /Cannot repent, nor hope, far less rejoice./ [p.110] /Yet am I glad, that not the vagrant choice,/ /Chance child of impulse, timid or too bold,/ /The volume of my heart may dare unfold/ /With figured rhetoric or unmeaning noise/ /Praying for all in those appointed phrases,/