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.