l the children of genius had come
together in Christ's single person, to proffer intimacy and
companionship. His great soul overhung his friends as the harvests
overarch the fields, "filling the flowers with heat by day, and
cooling them with dews by night." His friendship is like a mother's, a
lover's, a friend's, but larger than either, and deeper than all. The
rising of a star, that glows and sparkles with ten thousand effects,
can alone be compared to this Son of Man, who flamed forth upon his
friends such majesty of beauty, such royalty of kindling influences.

For centuries scholars have spoken of this interview between Christ
and the young ruler as "the great refusal." Dante, wandering with
Virgil through the Inferno, thought he saw this young ruler searching
for his lost opportunity. For this ruler was the Hamlet of the New
Testament. Like the Prince of Denmark, he stood midway between his
conscience and his task, and indecision slew him. It has been said
that Hamlet could have been happy had he remained in ignorance of his
duty, or had he boldly obeyed the vision which called him to action.
It was because he knew more than he had the courage to do that a
discord arose, which destroyed the symmetry and sanity of his mind.
His madness grew out of the breach between his enlarged and haunting
sense of right and his faltering ability to face and fulfill it. Thus
also the tragedy of this young ruler's life grew out of the fact that
the new aspiration made his old contentment impossible, and compelled
him either to go on with boldness to better things, or to go back to
emptiness and misery. Beholding him, Christ loved him for what he was,
and pointed out what he might become. He knew that the better was a
great enemy of the best. For Christ had the double vision of the
sculptor.

Before him was the mass of marble, rude and shapeless. But the outer
shapelessness concealed the inner symmetry. Only the flying chips
could let loose the form of glowing beauty hidden within. And before
that youth he lifted up a vision of still better things. He set the
youth midway between the man he was and the man he might become. He
had achieved so much that Christ would fain lead him on to perfection
itself. When the husbandman beholds his vines entering into leafage
and blossom, he nurtures them on into fruitage. When Arnold finds some
young Stanley ready to graduate, he whispers: "One thing thou
lackest; let all thy life become one