The use and need for the prophet is a fact not only in religion but in all the arts and in philosophy. He alone keeps any one of these in touch with life, or rather recalls it to life when it has been encumbered or perhaps even arrested by that which life has made. He is, in very deed, the voice of the encumbered spirit making itself heard, proclaiming in one fashion or another that the pursuit of beauty and truth as well as of holiness is of the spirit, and must have the spirit's liberty or it will altogether fail. In the arts and in philosophy we do not call him a prophet, but often, in the arts, we speak of him (when we have recovered from the shock he gives) as 'inspired,' and in philosophy we call him 'great.' Great he is and inspired—we could hardly choose better and more deeply significant words. He is the enlarger of life and the bearer of the spirit, whether he uses the language of philosophy, of poetry, painting or music, or of religion. But always he comes waging war upon our superstitious devotion to the things that have once been made, proclaiming either divine truth or divine beauty or divine holiness (according to his mission), as that for the sake of which they must ever be remade. * * * * * We who have learnt our lesson from science as well as from philosophy should be sure friends to the prophet. We have learnt enough of the story of life to see that from its beginning on the earth it strove towards liberty, towards the indetermination by circumstance and the freedom of choice that man has reached. We have seen life lost in mere material size and crushed by the weight of material protective armour; and we know what these things mean. We know, too, what entanglement in habit means for our own selves. We are good and sure friends of the prophet. Or we may be, if we will.