perfect, we read that He _learned_ obedience, and grew in wisdom and
in favor with God. Do not quarrel, therefore, with your lot in life.
Do not complain of its never-ceasing cares, its petty environment, the
vexations you have to stand, the small and sordid souls you have to
live and work with. Above all, do not resent temptation; do not be
perplexed because it seems to thicken round you more and more, and
ceases neither for effort nor for agony nor prayer. That is your
practice. That is the practice which God appoints you; and it is
having its work in making you patient, and humble, and generous, and
unselfish, and kind, and courteous. Do not grudge the hand that is
moulding the still too shapeless image within you. It is growing more
beautiful, though you see it not; and every touch of temptation may
add to its perfection. Therefore keep in the midst of life. Do not
isolate yourself. Be among men and among things, and among troubles,
and difficulties, and obstacles. You remember Goethe's words: "Talent
develops itself in solitude; character in the stream of life." Talent
develops itself in solitude--the talent of prayer, of faith, of
meditation, of seeing the unseen; character grows in the stream of the
world's life. That chiefly is where men are to learn love.

How? Now, how? To make it easier, I have named a few of the elements
of love. But these are only elements. Love itself can never be
defined. Light is a something more than the sum of its ingredients--a
glowing, dazzling, tremulous ether. And love is something more than
all its elements--a palpitating, quivering, sensitive, living thing.
By synthesis of all the colors, men can make whiteness, they cannot
make light. By synthesis of all the virtues, men can make virtue, they
cannot make love. How then are we to have this transcendent living
whole conveyed into our souls? We brace our wills to secure it. We try
to copy those who have it. We lay down rules about it. We watch. We