tudy: the
way in which that people were educated to become the teachers of the
world is utterly different from anything which we should have devised.
I am struck more and more by the marvellous fact that God can and does
reveal Himself--in His essential moral nature--to man; that we are so
made that we can apprehend the revelation; nay, that we in turn can in
measure reveal Him to men!

Moody's Life stirs me up to realise more the worth of the individual,
the surpassing value of man's moral and spiritual nature. I long to
help men to see what I see, to love Him whom I love, and the failure of
my efforts is largely, I feel, due to defects in myself. Still I do
not despair of doing something.

_To his brother Edward in South Africa._

Brislington, Bristol; April 10, 1901.

I was much interested in . . . (your letter) and in seeing a little
into your life. There is a strange family reserve among us which I
sometimes deplore. Perhaps it must always be so, that we can tell most
readily to strangers our deepest thoughts and feelings. Yet I feel
that we ought, as far as we can in this short life, to understand one
another. We have been led by different paths to understand different
aspects {138} of Truth. Yet, when we have climbed to the top of the
hill, I dare say we shall find that our paths were nearer to one
another than we ever realised. At any rate, we shall meet on the top.
I often think that your whole method of gaining truth must be unlike
mine. I use my reason, but I am more than half affection, and it is
that which helps me most. My strange love for some men makes me seek
to live their lives, to see the world as they see it; above all, it
forces me to pray. Prayer never seems to me irrational; yet I do not
pray so much because my reason bids me as because my affection forces
me. I sometimes feel that I should go mad if I didn't or couldn't.
And then, again, I am incapable of telling them all I feel, and I have
to find some one to tell it to, and I feel forced back on One who knows
me through and through, and I find comfort in pouring out my soul to
Him--in telling Him all, much that I dare say to no one else--in
letting Him sift the good and evil--in asking Him to develop and
satisfy the good, and to exterminate the evil. I cannot help trusting
Him.

I know not where His islands lift
Their fronded palms in air;
I only know I cannot drift
Beyond His love and care.

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