acing their own children.

Mankind can not be remodelled to satisfy the wants of humanitarian
theories; man is egotistical, and he loves, above all, those who are
about him. This is the natural human sentiment, and it is this which must
be enlarged, extended and cultivated. In a word, it is in family love
that is comprised love of country and consequently of humanity. It is
from fathers that citizens are made.

Man has not twenty prime movers, but only one in his heart; do not argue
but profit by it.

Affection is catching. Love between three--father, mother, and
child--when it is strong, soon requires space; it pushes back the walls
of the house, and by degrees invites the neighbors. The important thing,
then, is to give birth to this love between three; for it is madness, I
am afraid, to thrust the whole human species all at once on a man's
heart. Such large mouthfuls are not to be swallowed at a gulp, nor
without preparation.

This is why I have always thought that with the numerous sous given for
the redemption of the little Chinese, we might in France cause the fire
to sparkle on hearths where it sparkles no longer, make many eyes grow
brighter round a tureen of smoking soup, warm chilled mothers, bring
smiles to the pinched faces of children, and give pleasure and happiness
to poor discouraged ones on their return home.

What a number of hearty kisses you might have brought about with all
these sous, and, in consequence, what a sprinkling with the watering-pot
for the little plant you wot of.

"But then what is to become of the redemption of the little Chinese?"

We will think of this later; we must first know how to love our own
before we are able to love those of others.

No doubt, this is brutal and egotistical, but you can not alter it; it is
out of small faults that you build up great virtues. And, after all, do
not grumble, this very vanity is the foundation stone of that great
monument--at present still propped up by scaffolding--which is called
Society.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Affection is catching
All babies are round, yielding, weak, timid, and soft
And I shall say 'damn it,' for I shall then be grown up
He Would Have Been Forty Now
How many things have not people been proud of
I am not wandering through life, I am marching on
I do not accept the hypothesis of a world made for us
I would give two summers for a single autumn
In his futur