"But its spirit is immortal. The vision of a kingdom of Heaven—a polity of the soul, within, or superseding the earthly polity—once interfused with man's thought and life, has proved to be imperishable, a thing that cannot die.
"Only it must be realized afresh from age to age; embodied afresh in the conceptions and the language of successive generations.
"And these developing embodiments and epiphanies of the kingdom can only be brought into being by the method of Christ—that is to say, by 'violence'.
"Again and again has the kingdom 'suffered violence'—has been brought fragmentarily into the world 'by force'—by the only irresistible force—that of suffering, of love, of self-renouncing faith.
"To that 'force' we, as religious Reformers, appeal.
"The parables of the mustard seed and the leaven do not express the whole thought of Christ. When the work of preparation is over, still men must brace themselves, as their Master did, to the last stroke of 'violence'—to a final effort of resolute, and, if need be, revolutionary action—to the 'violence' that brings ideas to birth and shapes them into deeds.
"It was to 'violence' of this sacred sort that the Christian Church owed its beginning; and it is this same 'violence' that must, as the generations rise and fall, constantly maintain it among men. To cut away the old at need and graft in the new, requires the high courage and the resolute hand of faith. Only so can the Christian Life renew itself; only so can efficacy and movement return to powers exhausted or degenerate; only so 'can these dry bones live!'"
Amid the throng as it moved outward into the bustle of Westminster, Flaxman found himself rubbing shoulders with Edward Norham. Norham walked with his eyes on the ground, smiling to himself.
"A little persecution!" he said, rubbing his hands, as he looked up—"and how it would go!"
"Well—the persecution begins this week—in the Court of Arches."