We know no deeper law in the building of character, than that righteous character comes through that association with the best in which there is mutual self-giving. The problem of character implies not only a bare recognition of a man's moral freedom, but a sacred respect at every point for his personality. If a man is ever to have character at all, it must be absolutely his own; he must be won freely into it. In this free winning to character, no association counts for its most that is not mutual. I become in character most certainly and rapidly like that man with whom I constantly am, to whose influence I most fully surrender, and who gives himself most completely to me. We may analyze the phenomenon psychologically, as, indeed, we have already done in showing that a true personal relation to Christ necessarily carries with it a true ethical life. And that which held true for religion cannot be false for theology, we may be sure. But, in any case, we always come back finally to the fact, that character is truly and inevitably contagious in an association in which there is mutual surrender. Character is caught, not taught. The inner strength of another life to which we surrender is, as Phillips Brooks somewhere says, "directly transmissible." I suspect that the ultimate psychological principle at work here is that of the impulsiveness of consciousness. But, whether that be true or not, the witness to this contagion is wide-spread among students of men. "The greatest gift the hero leaves his race," one of our great novelists says, "is to have been a hero." In almost identical language, a great ethical and philosophical writer adds: "The noblest workers of our world bequeath us nothing so great as the image of themselves. Their task, be it ever so glorious, is historical and transient, the majesty of their spirit is essential and eternal." But one might still think, here, only of an example. The other life, however, must be more to me than mere example. For the highest attainment in character I need the association of some highest one, who will give himself to me unreservedly. Redemption to real righteousness of life cannot be without cost to the redeemer. And it is a psychologist, facing the ultimate problem of will-strengthening, who urges in words that might seem almost to look to Christ: "The prophet has drunk more deeply than any one of the cup of bitterness; but his countenance is so unshaken, and he speaks such mighty words of cheer, that his will becomes our will, and our life is kindled at his own."[82] It _is_ the one great certain road to character--as it is to appreciation of every value--to stay in the presence of the best, in self-surrender to it. No wonder Christ said, "I am the Way."