But I feel that I scarcely yet understand anything about the meaning of Beauty. All I can do is to relate it immediately to God. If I see beautiful scenery, I am usually thinking of God and thanking Him. If I see human beauty, I feel that I am on holy ground, and I always try to pray for a face that attracts me. I feel that I have a duty in return for the revelation that has been given. But, as you see, I can explain but little. These are merely rules of practical life which we very imperfectly carry out. I cannot explain the relation of physical and spiritual beauty in human beings. I feel, of course, that there ought to be, there very often is, some such relation. But sometimes there is something utterly wrong, and apparently no such connective. The connection, I take it, is more perfect in nature; but in man, why, something has occurred, something anomalous, which mars the whole. Sin has come in somewhere, I suppose. I can't express on paper what I feel, or give you any real conception of what you are to me. You {158} would be startled if you knew. God bless you, and work out in you, not my miserable ideal of what I think you ought to be, but His own ideal, which exceeds all our thoughts and imagination, of what you are to be. _To G. J. C._ Christ's College: 1901. . . . I was never so pleased to hear of any engagement as of yours. I thank God with all my heart. I cannot put my joy into words, but somehow or other it seems to bring me nearer to the source of all joy. I feel more than ever that He cares for us and is educating us, and I feel that He has been so good to you, because He loves you. The older I grow the more I am impressed by His infinite sympathy and concern for us. And when He gives us not only love but a return of love, it seems to me that He is giving us the very best thing that He has--a part, as it were, of Himself. 'The merciful and gracious Lord hath so done His marvellous works, that they ought to be had in remembrance.' I cannot tell you how glad I am. But I thank God in my prayers for you; and I am sure that if He has been so good to you in the past, He will not forget you in the future. _To the same when he had just accepted a mastership at Eton._ Brislington, Bristol: 1901. . . . . How good of you to write and tell me of your future work! . . . The responsibility of such a {159} life is to my mind almost overwhelming. 'Who is sufficient for these things? Our sufficiency is of God.'