ion of
a love so intense that no heart which beats can remain indifferent
to it.

All this seems to me admirably said. It does at least show that there
are clear, logical, and practical reasons for the religious hypothesis.
The mind of man, seeking to penetrate the physical mysteries of the
universe, encounters Mind. Mind meets Mind. Reason recognises, if it
does not always salute, Reason. And in this rational and evolving
universe the will of man has a struggle with itself, a struggle on which
man clearly sees the fortunes of his progress, both intellectual and
spiritual, depend. Will recognises Will. And surveying the history of
his race he comes to a standstill of love and admiration before only one
life--

a life whose historic occurrence is amply demonstrated, whose moral
and spiritual pre-eminence consists in the completeness of
self-sacrifice, and whose inspiration for those who try to imitate
it is without parallel in human experience.

Love recognises Love. "I am the Light of the World."

I will give a few brief quotations from Dr. Temple's pages showing how
he regards the revelation of the Creative Will made by Christ, Who "in
His teaching and in His Life is the climax of human ethics."

Love, and the capacity to grow in love, is the whole secret.

The one thing demanded is always the power to grow. Growth and
progress in the spiritual life is the one thing Christ is always
demanding.

He took bread and said that it was His body; and He gave thanks for
it, He broke it, and He gave it to them and said, "Do this in
remembrance of Me." . . . Do what? . . . The demand is nothing less
than this, that men should take their whole human life, and break
it, and give it for the good of others.

The growth in love, and the sacrifice which evokes that growth in
love, are, I would suggest the most precious things in life. Take
away the condition of this and you will destroy the value of the
spiritual world.

One may form, I think, a true judgment of the man from these few
extracts.

He is one who could not move an inch without a thesis, and who moves
only by inches even when he has got his thesis. His intellect, I mean,
is in charge of him from first to last. He feels deeply, not sharply. He
loves truly, not passionately. With his thesis clear in his mind, he
draws his sword, salutes the universe, kneels at the cross