the mathematical laws of physiology remain a part of God's economy.
In my book, "The Rosicrucian's Story," I have, in the form of a novel, treated this entire subject at length, and I refer my readers to that work for further light upon this part of the general subject. The cure of the bad state of affairs between Tom Clark and Betsey his wife, in that volume, as in the greater one of human life, hinges upon the practical application of a magic power resident in the little word "TRY;" for it is a great word, though it musters only three letters. It is the story of every achievement, from great to small, that the world has ever seen. The presence or absence of its spirit is the mark which distinguishes the difference in men. The lad or young man who says he will try, and means it, is the one who, by and by, will succeed. The head on his shoulders is the go-ahead, the kind which all good folks admire, and which is a credit and profit to itself; and in love affairs, the disagremens of affectional life, no talisman is so potent as that one word.
[Note. — At this point there arises a thought which, while of inestimable value to all who are subjects of affection, cannot well be printed in this book, not because of immodesty, but because the masses yet labor under many false impressions. I sacredly believe that the thought here alluded to, and the information it conveys, is the most transcendently valuable ever given ou the esoteric love-life of the race; and as all truth is common property, I hold this one at the service of all who are married and disappointed, and all who seek to wed and escape the universal horror. Such may write me for it at Boston.]
It is sheer folly to expect or attempt to make people love each other by statute law. God makes marriages if any are made, and all others are sheer frauds, counterfeits, and not worth the paper upon which the certificates are written. Just think of A and B certifying that C and D are married! Bah! Marriage is of the heart, and head, and soul, and when not so, it is not wedlock, — it is a patent compound torture to both, and its fitting name is — Hell, and many of us there be, of both genders, who serve apprenticeships therein! We are all sensible of our power of enjoying life in all its phases, love in all its moods. And then to be balked of its attainment! Well might Victor Hugo say as he does: "With such longings, how grievous a thing it is to be
