Come, my saints! and listen to worldly men on this subject: to dramatists, to Molière, and to Shakspeare. These have known more about it than you. The lover is asked who is the loved object? of what name? of what figure? and of what shape? "Just as high as my heart."
A noble standard, which is that of love, as well as that of education, and of every kind of initiation: a sincerely wished-for equality, the desire of raising the other person to one's own height, and of making her one's equal, "Just as high as one's heart." Shakspeare has said so; Molière has done so. The latter was, in the highest degree, "the educating genius;" one who wishes to raise and set free, and who loves in equality, liberty, and intelligence. He has denounced as a crime that unworthy love which surprises the soul by keeping it apart in ignorance, and holding it as a slave and captive.
In his life, conformable to his works, he gave the noble example of that generous love, which wishes that the person loved should be his equal, and as much as himself, which strengthens her, and gives her arms even against himself. This is love, and this is faith. It is the belief that sooner or later the emancipated being must return to the most worthy. And who is the most worthy? Is it not he who wished to be loved with liberty?
Nevertheless, let us well weigh the meaning of this important word his equal, and all the dangers it may contain. It is as if this creator said to the creature, whom he has made and is now emancipating, "Thou art free; the power under which thou hast grown up holds thee no more: being away from me, and attached to me now only by the heart and memory, thou mayest act and think elsewhere, nay against me if thou wilt!"
This is what is so sublime in love; and the reason why God pardons it so many weaknesses! It is because in this unlimited disinterestedness, wishing to make a free being and to be loved freely by it, it creates its own peril. The saying, "You may act elsewhere," contains also "to love elsewhere," and the chance of losing the object. That hand, so weak before, but now strengthened and made bold by all the cares of affection, receives the sword from love: even would she turn it against him, she can; there is nothing to hinder her, for he has reserved nothing for himself.
Pray let us exalt this idea, and extend it from the love of woman to universal love, to that which makes the life both of the world and of civil society.
In the world, it calls incessantly from kingdom to kingdom the ever-quickening life, which receives the flame, and goes on rising. It raises from unknown depths beings which it emancipates, and arms with liberty, with the power of acting well or ill, and even of acting against him, who creates them, and makes them free.
In the civil world, does love (charity, patriotism, or whatever they call it) do anything but this? Its work is to call to social life and political power whatever is yet without life in the city. It raises up the weak and poor in their rough path, where they crawl on their hands and feet against destiny, and bestows upon them equality and liberty.
The inferior degree of love is a desire to absorb life. Its superior degree is to wish to exalt life in energy and fruitfulness. It rejoices in raising, augmenting, and creating what it loves. Its happiness is to see a new creature of God rise under its influence, and to contribute its aid to the creation, whether it be for good or for ill.
"But is not love, with this disinterestedness, an uncommon miracle? One of those very short instances when the night of our egotism is illumined by a ray from God?"