conscience. There must be no obstacle between them which shocks his
sense of right, or which, if known by the woman, would shock hers. Were
the affection indulged in, in spite of such an obstacle, its fine
quality would be injured, no matter how great its intensity; and,
instead of a moral blessing, it would become a moral curse. An exquisite
expression of the necessity of this personal sense of rightness may be
read into the well-known lines,

_I could not love thee, dear, so well,
Loved I not honour more._

Nor shall we look on _honour_ here as having reference only to external
acts and conditions. It has reference equally, if not more, to the
inward state of the heart. The man must be conscious not only that he is
loving the right woman, but that he is loving her in the right way. '_If
I loved not purity more than you_,' he would say to her, '_I were not
worthy of you_.'

And further, just as he requires to possess this taintless conscience
himself, so does he require to be assured that the like is possessed by
her. Unless he knows that she loves purity more than him, there is no
meaning in his aspiration that he may be found worthy of her. The gift
of her affection that is of such value to him, is not of value because
it is affection simply, but because it is affection of a high kind; and
its elevation is of more consequence to him than its intensity, or even
than its continuance. He would sooner that at the expense of its
intensity it remained pure, than that at the expense of its purity it
remained intense. Othello was certainly not a husband of the highest
type, and yet we see something of this even in his case. His sufferings
at his wife's supposed inconstancy have doubtless in them a large