done to improve it; and to follow it is to take the side of the power, whatever it may be, that is trying to help and guide the world out of confusion and darkness and strife into light and peace.  It may be gratefully admitted, of course, that religion is one of the foremost influences in this great movement; but it also needs to be said that religion, by connecting itself so definitely as it does with ecclesiastical life, and ceremony, and theological doctrine, has become a specialised thing, and does not meet all the desires of the heart.  It is not everyone who finds full satisfaction for all the visions of the mind and soul in a church organisation.  Some people, and those neither wicked nor heartless nor unsympathetic, find a real dreariness in systematised religion, with its conventional beliefs, its narrow instruction, its catechisings, missionary meetings, gatherings, devotions, services.  It may be all true enough in a sense, but it often leaves the sense of beauty and interest and emotion and poetry unfed; it does not represent the fulness of life.  The people who are dissatisfied with it all are often dumbly ashamed of their dissatisfaction, but yet it does not feed the heart; the kind of heaven that they are taught awaits them is not a place that they recognise as beautiful or desirable.  They do not want to do wrong, or to rebel against morality at all, but they have impulses which do not seem to be recognised by technical religion:  adventure, friendship, passion, beauty, the strange and wonderful emotions of life.  The work of great poets and artists and musicians, the lovely scenes of earth, these seem to have no place inside systematic religion, to be things rather timorously permitted, excused, and apologised for.  Men need something richer, freer, and larger.  They do not want to shirk their duty or to follow evil; but many things seem to be insisted upon by religion as important which seem unimportant, many beliefs spoken of as true which seem at best uncertain.  It is not that such people are disloyal to God and to virtue, but they feel stifled and confined in an atmosphere which dares not attribute to God many of the finest and sweetest things in the world.

Such a feeling is not so much a rebellion against old ideas, as a new wine which is too strong for the old bottles; it is a desire to extend the range of ideals, to find more things divine.

I do not believe that this instinct is going to be crushed or overcome; I believe it will grow and spread, and play an immense part in the civilisation of the future.  I hope indeed that religion will open its arms to meet it, because the spirit of which I speak is in the truest sense religious; since it is concerned with purifying and enriching life, and in living life, not on base or mean lines, but with constant reference to the message of a Power which is for ever reminding us that life is full of fire and music, great, free, and wonderful.  That is the meaning of it all, an increased sense of the largeness and richness of life, which refuses to be bound inside a gloomy, sad, suspicious outlook.  It is all an attempt to trust God more rather than less, and to recognise the worth of life in wider and wider circles.