union of all with all; and is not attained by anything that falls short of this, whether the defect be in depth or In extent.  And that is how it is that love itself, even in its richer phases, and still more in those which are merely light and sensual, though, as I think, through it alone can we form our truest conception of Good, yet, as we have it, never is the Good, even if it appear to be so for the moment; for those who seek Good, I believe, will never feel that they have found it merely in union with one other person.  For what love gains in intension it is apt to lose in extension; so that in practice it may even come to frustrate the very end it seeks, limiting instead of expanding, narrowing just in proportion as it deepens, and, by causing the disruption of all other ties, impoverishing the natures it should have enriched.  Or don’t you think that this happens sometimes, for instance in married life?”

“I do indeed.”

“And, on the other hand,” I continued, “it may very well be that one who passes through life without attaining the fruition of love, yet with his gaze always set upon it, in and through many other connections, may yet come closer to the end of his seeking than one who, having known love, has sunk to rest in it then and there, as though he had come already to his journey’s end, when really he has only reached an inn upon the road.  So that I am far from thinking, as you pretended to suppose, that the boy and girl on the village green realize then and there the consummation of the world.”

“Still,” he objected, “I do not see, in the scheme you put forward, what place is left for the common business of life—­for the things which really do, for the most part, occupy and possess men’s minds, and the more, in my opinion, the greater their force and capacity.”

“You mean, I suppose, war and politics, and such things as that?

“Yes, and generally all that one calls business.”

“Well,” I said, “what these things mean to those who pursue them, I am not as competent as you to say.  But surely, what they are in essence is just, like most other activities, relations between human beings—­relations of command and obedience, of respect, admiration, antagonism, comradeship, infinitely complex, infinitely various, but still all of them strung, as it were, upon a single thread of passion; all of them at tension to become something else; all pointing to the consummation which it is the nature of that which created them to seek, and all, in that sense, paradoxical as it may sound, only means to love.”

“You don’t repudiate such activities then?”

“How should I?  I repudiate nothing.  I am not trying to judge, but, if I could, to explain.  It is the men of action, I suppose, who have the greatest extension of life, and sometimes, no doubt, the greatest intension too.  But every man has to live his own way, according to his opportunities and capacity.  Only, as I think myself, all are involved in the same scheme, and all are driven to the same consummation.”