The talk, my friend said, was
full of a certain speculative sort of metaphysics which, in the present
state of human development, is far from healthy, both because of our
incompleteness, and because we are too near to what we seem to know, to
judge it aright. One lady was present--a lady by us more admired and
trusted than any of the rest--who alone declared a conviction that love
of no woman would ever separate us, provided the one fell in love first,
and the other knew the fact before he saw the lady. For, she said, no
jealousy would in that case be roused; and the relation of the brother to
his brother and sister would be so close as to satisfy his heart. In a
few days probably he too would fall in love, and his lady in like manner
be received by his brother, when they would form a square impregnable
to attack. The theory was a good one, and worthy of realization. But,
alas, the Prince of the Power of the Air was already present in force,
in the heart of the English widow! Young in years, but old in pride
and self-confidence, she smiled at the notion of our advocate. She said
that the idea of any such friendship between men was nonsense; that she
knew more about men than some present could be expected to know: their
love was but a matter of custom and use; the moment self took part in
the play, it would burst; it was but a bubble-company! As for love
proper--she meant the love between man and woman--its law was the
opposite to that of friendship; its birth and continuance depended on the
parties _not_ getting accustomed to each other; the less they knew each
other, the more they would love each other.
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