We do not realize how great a bond this is. We have our own
church centre, our own denomination, our own local interests. But by and
by a great occasion arises--a revival which sweeps the country, a
reunion of two long-divided parties, an Ecumenical Council, a Chinese
persecution--and suddenly there arises before the mind's eye a glimpse
of that Church which girdles the world, whose emissaries are in every
country, whose voices speak in every tongue. We perceive that
everywhere are
"_Swelling hills and spacious plains
Besprent from shore to shore with steeple-towers,
And spires whose silent finger points to heaven_."
Says Wordsworth also:
"_They dreamt not of a perishable home,
Who thus could build_."
Many an ideal state has been thought out, in which fellowship should be
the root of social progress. But in what state is the proffered
fellowship like that of the communion of saints? Each has his share of
work and dreams; each has his endowment of talent and of opportunity;
each has his aspirations and supreme hope. The joys of one are the joys
of all.
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