e of an inspired
self-sacrifice; to men who refuse themselves nothing it showed one who
refused himself everything." Following this example, Arnold preached
"Grace and peace by the annulment of our ordinary self," and what he
preached he practised. "Kindness and Pureness," he said, "Charity and
Chastity. If any virtues could stand for the whole of Christianity,
these might. Let us have them from the mouth of Jesus Christ Himself.
'He that loveth his life shall lose it; a new commandment give I unto
you, that ye love one another.' There is charity. 'Blest are the pure in
heart, for they shall see God.' There is purity." Charity was indeed the
law of Arnold's life. He loved with a passionate and persistent love. He
loved his wife with increasing devotion as years went on, when she had
become "my sweet Granny," and they both felt that "we are too old for
separations." He loved with equal fondness his mother (whom in his
brightness, fun, and elasticity he closely resembled), the sisters who
so keenly shared his intellectual tastes, his children living and
departed. "Dick[34] was a tower of strength." "Lucy[35] is such a
perfect companion." "Nelly[36] is the dearest girl in the world." "That
little darling[4] we have left behind us at Laleham; and he will soon
fade out of people's remembrance, but _we_ shall remember him as long as
we live, and he will be one more bond between us, even more perhaps in
his death than in his sweet little life." "It was exactly a year since
we had driven to Laleham with darling Tommy[38] and the other two boys
to see Basil's[37] grave; and now we went to see _his_ grave, poor
darling." "I cannot write Budge's[39] name without stopping to look at
it in stupefaction at his not being alive."

Outside the circle of his family, his affection was widely bestowed and
faithfully maintained. He had the true genius of friendship, and when
he signed himself "affectionately" it meant that he really loved.
Enmities he had none. If ever he had suffered injuries they were
forgiven, forgotten, and buried out of sight. Even in the controversies
where his strongest convictions were involved, he steadily abstained
from bitterness, violence, and detraction. "Fiery hatred and malice," he
said, with perfect truth, "are what I detest, and would always allay or
avoid if I could."

In the preface to his _Last Essays on the Church and Religion_, he takes
those two great lessons of the Christian Gospel--Charity and
Cha