“‘Often already has an epoch of materialism been but the stillness before the storm, which was to burst forth from unknown gulfs, and give a new shape to the world.... The social question stirs all Europe, a question on whose wide domain all the revolutionary elements of science, of religion, and of politics seem to have found the battleground for a great and decisive contest. Whether this battle remains a bloodless conflict of minds, or whether, like an earthquake, it throws down the ruins of a past epoch with thunder into the dust, and buries millions beneath the wreck, certain it is that the new epoch will not conquer unless it be under the banner of a great idea, which sweeps away egoism, and sets human perfection in human fellowship as a new aim, in place of restless toil, which looks only to personal gain.’ “That banner of a great idea,” said Mr. Clare, “should it not bear the figure of the seventh angel, the sounding of whose trumpet was followed by great voices in heaven, saying ‘The kingdom of the world is become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ; and He shall reign for ever and ever!’ Gentlemen, do you ask a stronger lever whereby to move the masses?” There was a pause, then the High-Churchman said slowly, “You are an enthusiast, Mr. Clare, and enthusiasm is an exceedingly valuable quality when used on the right side. But, though, of course, you are not conscious of it, you talk very like a demagogue. One would wish, and we of the clergy give our lives, that all should be brought into the fold; but not for the sake of the loaves and fishes.” “Does sheep ate fish?” asked Father McClosky with a look of inquiring innocence; but Mr. Clare frowned him into silence, and answered quickly,— “The crying defect—perhaps I should say the worst heresy—of our day is, that it divides Christ. He is, we are told, perfect man and perfect God; but in practice we clergy, and Christians generally, represent Him as God only, leaving the beauty of His manhood, the religion of humanity, to those who deny His Godhead.” “I don’t think I quite understand you,” said the High-Churchman. “If you find a family starving,” said Mr. Clare, “you, as a man, relieve them to the extent of your last penny, and call upon your congregation to help. It is true that you do this because He says, ‘Inasmuch as ye do it unto these, ye do it unto me;’ but if the poor people themselves ask, ‘Why does God let us suffer when there is so much wealth in the world, and He is Almighty?’ you reply, ‘My dear friends, we must not dispute God’s decrees. He makes some men rich and others poor, and He doth all things well. But He feeds all with the bread of heaven who call upon Him, and when you come to that land where we shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, He shall wipe away all tears from off all faces.’”