in our social relations, do
they satisfy us. The advances made in our generation are conspicuous
instances of progress not away from, but up to Him. The crash of our
present commercial order in industrial strife, now scarcely heard in the
greater confusion of a world at war, gives us the chance to come forward
with the principles of Jesus, and ask that they be given a trial in
business enterprises that are based on cooeperation, the joy of service
as the incentive to toil, responsible trusteeship of that which each
controls for the benefit of all the rest; in international relations
where every nation comes not to be ministered unto but to minister, and
loves its neighbors as itself--to ask that we seriously try the social
order of love. John Bright, unveiling the statue to Cobden in the
Bradford Exchange, said, "We tried to put Holy Writ into an act of
Parliament." We want the mind of Christ put into commerce, laws,
pleasures and the whole of human life.

And we come forward with confidence, because the Kingdom we advocate is
not merely a protest and a program, but also a divine _promise_. The
ideal of the Kingdom of heaven to which our consciences respond is for
us a religious inspiration, and has behind it a faithful God who would
not deceitfully lure us to follow an illusive phantom. "According to His
promise we look for new heavens and a new earth wherein dwelleth
righteousness." The city of our hope has not been designed by us, but
has been already thought out in God's mind and comes down out of heaven.
In our attack upon existing injustices and follies we raise again the
believing watchword of the Crusaders, "_Deus vult_" In our attempt to
rear the order of love, which cynics pronounce unpractical, we fortify
ourselves in the assurance that it is God's plan for His world, and that
we shall discover a preestablished harmony between the Kingdom of heaven
and the earth which we with Him must conform to it. We encourage
ourselves by recalling that, in the hearts of men everywhere and in the
very fabric and structure of things, we have countless confederates.

On one of Motley's most glowing pages, we are told how, after the
frightful siege and fall of Haarlem, and with Alkmaar closely invested
by the Duke of Alva, when the cause of the Netherlands seemed in direst
straits, Diedrich Sonoy, the lieutenant governor of North Holland, wrote
the Prince of Orange, inquiring whether he had arranged some foreign
alliance, an