at that view and held that love is only the accident of circumstance. But
though that is the sensible view, there are cases like those of Dante and
Beatrice and Abelard and Heloise, in which the passion does seem to touch
the skies. In those cases, however, it rarely ends happily. A more hum-drum
way of falling in love seems better fitted to earthly conditions. The
method of Sir Thomas More was perhaps the most original on record. He
preferred the second of three sisters and was about to marry her when it
occurred to him--But let me quote the words in which Roper, his son-in-law,
records the incident:

"And all beit his mynde most served him to the seconde daughter, for that
he thoughte her the fayrest and best favoured, yet when he considered that
it woulde be bothe great griefe and some shame alsoe to the eldest to see
her yonger sister in mariage preferred before her, he then of a certeyn
pittye framed his fancye towardes her, and soon after maryed her."

It was love to order, yet there was never a more beautiful home life than
that of which this most perfect flower of the English race was the centre.

In short, there is no formula for falling in love. Each one does it as the
spirit moves.




ON A BIT OF SEAWEED


The postman came just now, and among the letters he brought was one from
North Wales. It was fat and soft and bulgy, and when it was opened we found