nly be
solved by living the ideal out, and finding it work. It is the pathos of
our love, of God's love for us, that each man, however much he is loved,
must work out the ideal for himself. No man can save his brother's soul.

I do not like to weaken the paradoxes of the Gospel. I think there is
more in Christ's words concerning 'loving one's life' or 'self' than you
suggest. You say it means 'self-denial.' Yes, that is true, but what a
tremendous meaning 'deny one's self' has! To disown your identity, that
is not much easier when you come to think of it than to lose your life.
I know you will find out what it all means, and that human love, beauty,
home, social service, will be more real than ever before, because you
will see the eternal reality underneath. You will be a 'new creation.'

Now I must stop without satisfactorily answering your question, without
entering into any casuistical questions concerning conformity such as you
suggest. I should like you to think out that problem in casuistry more
for yourself, before I attempt to answer it. Forgive me for talking so
much about myself. When all is said and done, words fail me. I can only
thank God that you exist, and that you let me love you.

{171}

_To H. P., a Clifton College master who had given up school work in order
to devote himself to the School Mission in Bristol._

40 Upperton Gardens, Eastbourne: September 30, 1902.

. . . I am glad that you feel you have done right in giving up your
school work. I am sorry that you left Clifton, but you thought you
_ought_ to go, and that is an end of the matter. I can only hope that
you are in some measure a connecting-link between the school and its
mission. . . . Don't forget me in my very different work--and yet work
for the same Master--at college. I have need of your prayers. It is so
easy to blunder, and to drive a man further from the kingdom by lack of
sympathy and love. I feel more than I used to my weakness, and my
absolute need of prayer.

_To his brother Edward in South Africa._

40 Upperton Gardens, Eastbourne: October 1, 1902.

The October term has an interest of its own, bringing, as it does, a
batch of freshmen. I try more and more not simply to impose my ideals
upon them, but to find out their ideals and to quicken them with all my
power. But assuredly 'infinite sympathy is needed for the infinite
pathos of human life;' and my sympathies are as yet imperfectly developed