of it, a pure human affection is a union of two things. It is not a
possession only, but a promise; not a sentiment only, but a
_pre_-sentiment; not a taste only, but a foretaste; and the chief
sweetness said to be found in the former, is dependent altogether upon
the latter. '_Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God_,'
is the belief which, whether true or false as a fact, is implied in the
whole modern cultus of love, and the religious reverence with which it
has come to be regarded. In no other way can we explain either its
eclecticism or its supreme importance. Nor is the belief in question a
thing that is implied only. Continually it is expressed also, and this
even by writers who theoretically repudiate it. Goethe, for instance,
cannot present the moral aspects of Margaret's love-story without
assuming it. And George Eliot has been obliged to presuppose it in her
characters, and to exhibit the virtues she regards as noblest, on the
pedestal of a belief that she regards as most irrational. But its
completest expression is naturally to be found elsewhere. Here, for
instance, is a verse of Mr. Robert Browning's, who, however we rank him
otherwise, is perhaps unrivalled for his subtle analysis of the
emotions:

_Dear, when our one soul understands
The great soul that makes all things new,
When earth breaks up, and heaven expands,
How will the change strike me and you,
In the house not made with hands?_

Here, again, is another, in which the same sentiment is presented in a
somewhat different form:

_Is there nought better than to enjoy?