  The measure of greatness is helpfulness. We have gone back to the method of the Master and learned to test men not by wealth, nor by birth, nor by intellectual power, but by service. Wealth is not to be despised if it is untainted and consecrated. Ancestry is noble if the good survives and the bad perishes in him who boasts of his forebears. Intellectual force is worthy if only it can escape from that cursed attendant, conceit. But they sink, one and all into insignificance when character is considered; for character is the child of godly parents whose names are self-denial and love. The man who lives not for himself but for others, and who has a heart big enough to take all men into its living sympathies—he is the man we delight to honor. Biographies have a large place in present day literature. A woman long associated with some foreign potentates tells her story and it is read with unhealthy avidity. Some man fights many battles, and his career told by an amiable critic excites temporary interest. Yet as we read we are unsatisfied. The heart and mind, consciously or unconsciously, ask for some deeds other than those of arms and sycophancies. Did he make the world better by his living? Were rough places smoothed and crooked things straightened by his energies? And withal, had he that tender grace which drew little children to him and made him the knight-attendant of the feeble and overborne amongst his fellows? The life from which men draw daily can alone make a book richly worth the reading. It is good that something should be known of a man whilst he yet lives. We are overcrowded with monuments commemorating those into whose faces we cannot look for inspiration. It is always easy to strew flowers upon the tomb. But to hear somewhat of living realities; to grasp the hand which has wrought, and feel the thrill while we hear of the struggles which made it a beautiful hand; to see the face marked by lines cut with the chisel of inner experience and the sword of lonely misunderstanding and perchance of biting criticism, and learn how the brave contest spelt out a life-history on feature and brow;—this is at once to know the man and his career. This life of a man justly honored and loved in Philadelphia will find a welcome seldom accorded to the routine biography. It is difficult for one who rejoices in Dr. Conwell's friendship to speak in tempered language. It is yet more difficult to do justice to the great work which Church and College and Hospital, united in a trinity of service, have accomplished in our very midst. God hath done mighty things through this His servant, and the end is not yet. To attend the Temple services on Sunday and feel the pulse of worship is to enter into a blessed fellowship with God and men. To see the thousands pursuing their studies during the week in Temple College and to realize the thoroughness of the work done is to gain a belief in Christian education. To move through the beautiful Hospital and mark the gentle ministration of Christian physician and nurse is to learn what Jesus meant when, quoting Hosea, He said: "I will have mercy and not sacrifice." And these all bring one very near to the great human heart, the intelligent and far-reaching judgment, the ripe and real religion of him whose life this volume tells. May God bless Dr. Conwell in the days to come, and graciously spare him to us for many years! We need such men in this old sin-stained and weary world. He is an inspiration to his brothers in the ministry of Jesus Christ, He is a proof of the power in the world of pure Christianity. He is a friend to all that is good, a foe to all that is evil, a strength to the weak, a comforter to the sorrowing, a man of God. He would not suffer these words to be printed if he saw them. But they come from the heart of one who loves, honors, and reverences him for his character and his deeds. They are the words of a friend. [Illustration: Floyd W. Tomkins Church of the Holy Trinity |
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