Love
What a word! I am in awe before it. Over what
worlds on worlds it hath range and is sovereign! the un-
derived, the incomparable, the infinite All of good, the [1]
alone God, is Love.
By what strange perversity is the best become the most
abused,—either as a quality or as an entity? Mortals
misrepresent and miscall affection; they make it what [5]
it is not, and doubt what it is. The so-called affection
pursuing its victim is a butcher fattening the lamb to
slay it. What the lower propensities express, should be
repressed by the sentiments. No word is more mis-
construed; no sentiment less understood. The divine [10]
significance of Love is distorted into human qualities,
which in their human abandon become jealousy and
hate.
Love is not something put upon a shelf, to be taken
down on rare occasions with sugar-tongs and laid on a [15]
rose-leaf. I make strong demands on love, call for active
witnesses to prove it, and noble sacrifices and grand
achievements as its results. Unless these appear, I cast
aside the word as a sham and counterfeit, having no ring
of the true metal. Love cannot be a mere abstraction, or [20]
goodness without activity and power. As a human quality,
the glorious significance of affection is more than words:
it is the tender, unselfish deed done in secret; the silent,
ceaseless prayer; the self-forgetful heart that overflows;
the veiled form stealing on an errand of mercy, out of a [25]
side door; the little feet tripping along the sidewalk; the
gentle hand opening the door that turns toward want and
woe, sickness and sorrow, and thus lighting the dark
places of earth.