Now, in the case of love, these restrictions are done away. Accordingly the whole principle of mutuality comes out there with a lucidity, power, and moving appeal which it cannot possibly have in the briefly planned arrangements of trade. For though love often passes away, no such cessation is contemplated. The eternal vows of lovers have always been a subject of jest. No doubt limited marriages have been proposed. But I suspect if they ever come about, what we mean by love will be omitted. It would strike most of us as absurd for me to ask Mary to join me in identifying our lives for a single year, sharing during that time our home, our aims, our inmost thoughts, but always intending at the end of that time to go our separate ways, unable to say “we.” External relations can be formed, dropped, and resumed, the persons involved remaining unaffected. That is not true of interior relations. These fashion a new personality to which old forms of morals, even old forms of language, no longer apply. Before advancing to explain as my final topic the special modifications of mutuality which fit it for a world principle, let me sum up the whole doctrine of love in some majestic lines attributed to Shakespeare. In 1601 a curious book appeared called _Chester’s Love’s Martyr_, containing a poem to which Shakespeare’s name was affixed. This single fact, and the unlikelihood that any one else had such compulsive power over words, are our only grounds for thinking Shakespeare wrote the piece. It is entitled “The Phœnix and the Turtle,” and allegorically describes the funeral of a pair of married lovers, the man denoted by the turtle, the woman by the phœnix. I quote only the funeral chant, omitting the picturesque introduction and the solemn ending: “Here the anthem doth commence; Love and constancy is dead, Phœnix and the turtle fled In a mutual flame from thence. So they loved as love in twain Had the essence but in one. Two distincts, division none, Number there in love was slain. Hearts remote, yet not asunder, Distance, and no space was seen ’Twixt the turtle and his queen; But in them it were a wonder. So between them love did shine That the turtle saw his right Flaming in the phœnix’ sight; Either was the other’s mine. Property was thus appalled, That the self was not the same. Single nature’s double name Neither two nor one was called. Reason, in itself confounded, Saw division grow together. To themselves, yet either--neither, Simple were so well compounded That it cried how true a twain Seemeth this concordant one! Love hath reason, reason none, If what parts can so remain.”