Some believe that the theory of the family, as it has so long prevailed in Europe, is inappropriate for this country, and hence that it is disappearing among us, as unsuited to the development of our forms of culture. Children desire their liberty earlier, and parents are ready to comply with their requests. No ties other than material ones are recognized as constituting a family unit. It will be for the future to decide whether the greater personal independence thus secured has been of more value to the happiness of the race than the elements of affection sacrificed in obtaining it. * * * * * Law is the bond of the state, love, of the family. The former rules best by precept, the latter by example. * * * * * Those marriages are ominous which transmit miseries. * * * * * The family tie differs from the tie of friendship in that it binds together interests rather than sympathies. * * * * * Love, says Michael Angelo in one of his Sonnets, is the mental impression of ideal beauty:―― Amore e un concetta di bellezza Immaginata, cui sta dentro al cuore. * * * * * The aims of the child centre around his maturity; those of the man around his posterity. * * * * * The generations unborn are the sovereigns of the world, and the goals we are running for are invisible. Posthumous aims are the potent. * * * * * The heart of every woman is like a page written with sympathetic ink. It seems blank, but warm it sufficiently, and you will find a love-letter written on it. * * * * * _Cara amica_, beware of that tendency in your nature to repose utter confidence. Learn that nought is so fragile as Faith. It is like those delicate vases of Venetian glass which a single drop of poison is said to shiver into atoms. Better the homely ware which will toss it out, and fill again with wine. It is a law of reasoning that full belief is disproved by a single event, but partial belief only by a series of events. But what have you to do with reasoning? you who must trust “not at all, or all in all”? and bless you for it, fated, foolish friend. * * * * * A man weeps for the lost loved one; a woman for the lost love. * * * * * Love is the language in which the gods speak to man, observes Plato. Unfortunate is he who hears it not; doubly unfortunate he who hears, but comprehends it not. * * * * * True love is love of love; not love of the pleasures of love. PART V. The Consolations of Affliction. I. _The Removal of Unhappiness._