kes "love from their lives a thing apart," and that this is
as it should be. Your letters are an exposition and a defence of what I
may loosely call the practical theory. You show that the world is for
work and workers, and that life is for results as seen in institutions
and visible achievements. I, on the other hand, maintain that it takes a
greater dowry to marry upon than affection, and that men love as
intensely and with as much abandon as women. People love in proportion
to the depth of their natures, and the finest man in the world has an
infinite capacity for giving and receiving love store. The spell is
strongest upon the finest.

This, briefly, is what we have been saying to each other. You attack my
idealism, call me dreamer, and accuse me of being out of joint with the
time, which itself is rigorously in joint with the laws of growth. And
I class you with the Philistine because of your exaggeration of
practical values. I hold that it is gross to respect the fact tangible
at the expense of the feeling ineffable.

In your last letter you exploit the theory of Nutrition and Reproduction
with a charm and warmth which helps me see you as I have so long known
you, and which tells me again that you are worth fighting for and
saving. But to trace love to its biologic beginning is not to deny its
existence. Love has a history as significant as that of life. When, eons
ago, the primitive man looked at his neighbour and recognised him as a
fellow to himself, consciousness of kind awoke and a cell was exploded
which functioned love. When, through the ages, economic forces taught
men the need of mutual aid, when everywhere in life the law of
development charged men with leanings and desires and outreachings, then
the sway of love began in life. What was subconscious became conscious,
what, back in the past, was a mere adumbration gloried out in Aurora
splendours. The love of a Juliet is the outgrowth of natural processes
manifesting themselves everywhere down the scale, but it is also the
gift of the last evolution, and it speaks to us from the topmost notch
in the scale. The charm of morning rests on a Juliet's love because its
hour is young and yet old, striking the time of the past and the future.
It is thus that the hunger of the race and the passion of the race
become in the individual the need for happiness. The need of the race
and the need of the individual are at once the same and different.

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