it alteration finds and bending with the remover to remove”! But sadder still is it when to formerly abundant love the guarded altruism of manners succeeds and each is satisfied to treat the other with watchful politeness. This is the last stopping-place before confessed bankruptcy. (5) But is not love always open to repair through duty? Being the highest embodiment of morality it would naturally seem peculiarly alive to duty. But the very opposite is the case. It has, in fact, a strange aversion to duty. Any suspicion that we are expected to love a certain person alienates us from him. We cannot force ourselves to love even when we see it to be desirable; nor can we expel love when we find it unreturned or unworthy. Love insists on freedom, a certain absence of constraint, either from a person, from circumstance, from collateral advantages, or even from our own volition. Like giving, it recognizes no claim. “Love is a present to a mighty king,” says Herbert. It cannot be bought or sold. But though so little submissive to obligation, it is highly sensitive to suggestion and unclamorous appeal. Indeed, it soon perishes when fresh suggestion is withheld. Indirectly, therefore, and accepting time for an ally, we can control love. I have repeatedly spoken of intention, rational guidance, resourceful care, as necessities if we would have a wise and lasting love. Those who complain of its decay have generally themselves to blame. They have imagined it constituted once for all and, while they would be glad to have it continue, have taken little pains for that fresh renewal on which its life is staked. “Keep on courting,” said a sagacious mother to a young bridegroom on his wedding-day. And what has here been said of marital love applies also, with adaptations, to the love of God and the love of our fellow men. Nowhere will love submit to the direct command of duty. But indirectly, gradually, through suggestion and considerate modes of approach, it is well within our control. The Golden Rule, bidding us love God and our neighbor, is not a psychological blunder. (6) How does friendship differ from love? Like love, it differs from partnership through having an entirely personal basis. Within its limits partnership is as genuinely mutual as love itself, but its mutuality refers to ends outside the personal lives. These remain detached and individual, merely co-operating for a time to accomplish an external purpose. In both love and friendship the personalities merge. Their interests become identified, so that one of the parties without the other is but a fragmentary being.