“To-night I read several chapters of Matthew Arnold’s Literature and Dogma, which, with what I have already read of the work, cleared my mind as to the main purpose of the author, the placing of our conception of the value of the Bible and of Christianity on a more stable and permanent basis. I feel confident that this will be the effect upon my own mind, for I thoroughly hold that a belief to be vital must be real to him who professes it. Indeed, the profession to others of what one believes, however important, is almost inevitably vague, or, at least, liable to be misunderstood. What is really important is for us to believe what we ourselves find believable and true before the bar of our inmost conscience. I find myself reaching out with eagerness to the thought, which seems an old one to me, that God is intimately associated with conscience; that conduct is important, but that rules of conduct institutionalized are apt to be external and wanting in vital force; and that it was the emphasizing of the importance of the personal, inward condition, which was the real strength and lasting service of the new dispensation.
“I find my views clearing as time goes on. Latterly two thoughts have been, perhaps, more prominent than any others: the importance of constant choice in the matter of selection and rejection, and a respect for the conception of the many sidedness of truth, which conception brings with it a toleration for the views of others, particularly in the matter of religion. For given that religion is an inward personal matter, and that men are constituted so differently, their conceptions of the truth, itself single and indissoluble, if you will, must vary widely. Under such conditions the necessity of keeping in view the highest standard of life, as illustrated by Christ, becomes of the very greatest importance.”
In the character of Christ, Harper found the answer to the question, what is the purpose of life? That life appealed to him from every side. It was the manliest of lives. Conscious of its greatness, it could forbear to use its creative powers for selfish ends. It could be governed by a principle, where a multitude could not attract. Bigotry, passion and prejudice only added force to its invectives; ridicule and calumny, dignity to its assertion of right. In the presence of the strong, it could champion the cause of the weak; the rich it could make to tremble at their neglect of the claims of the poor. In the midst of opposition, it could stand alone; surrounded by temptation, it could remain pure.
It was the manliest of lives. Chivalrous in its defense of woman, tender in its love for little children, loyal in its allegiance to friends. Uncompromising it was in its demands for truth, unsparing in its rebuke of evil, relentless, almost violent, in its denunciations of hypocrisy. Yet nowhere was such sympathy to be found; nowhere, greater compassion; nowhere, forgiveness more sincere.
It was the manliest of lives, but it was also the simplest and the best. In vain one searched for an account of material possessions; in vain one looked for an assertion of worldly place or power; but it was recorded that its cradle was a manger, its crown, a wreath of thorns. The mountains, the woods, the sea, the flowers, the stars, were so sought by, and so ministered to that life, as to be almost a part of it. Simple fisher-folk of Galilee, devoted but humble women in the town of Bethany, shared its companionship, the sorrowful and outcast, its love.
And withal, it had a mission, higher, greater than the world had ever known. Clearly it saw into the mystery of the universe, deeply it divined the meaning of the human soul. In words, as simple, as beautiful, as the flower, or the name which suggested the thought, it related the universe to man, and man to God. “Consider the lilies how they grow!”—all that Nature had to teach was there, selection and rejection, cause and effect, the unfailing operation of law, life and death. “Our Father,”—obedience, love, trust, forgiveness, the brotherhood of man, man’s sonship under God.
Was it a matter of wonder then, that such a nature as Harper’s should be captivated by such a life? Having founded his belief on reason, in the following after the perfect life of Christ, reason was soon outrun by that which brought conviction of itself. Having learned something of the secret and the method of that life, Harper came soon to believe the words:
| “Ego sum via, veritas, vita, Sine via non itur, sine veritate non Cognoscitur, sine vita non vivitur.” |
They came to be the controlling power in his life.
Harper sought the realization of his belief in conduct. His impurity, his weakness, he contrasted with the strength and beauty of the life of Christ, and daily sought with an earnest devotion to yield the allegiance due to the higher ideal. Without many professions, he strove silently for the attainment of a character which would make him, among men, not unworthy of the ideal which he cherished in his heart.