Do you love anyone?

A question that seems exceedingly simple, yet we answer it only after a moment of thought and perplexity, and the answer comes out with a measure of confidence and assurance:

"Of course! I love my children, and I love my wife (or my husband!)."

Most often the answer comes in this form. Now, to what extent are we truthful in our answer? That is what we shall try to unveil in this psychological study.

We know many families who appear in social life with the appearance of complete harmony and total love. But let us not be deceived by appearances, for this love is very often counterfeit, or a heedless love that does not bear the good fruits we all hope for in our homes.

1 — Our neighbors on the upper floor are known among their friends for their love of one another and their inner happiness. The husband hurries home every evening and wants his supper ready at six o'clock sharp; he demands many things of his wife and children, which he wants carried out to the letter, and if anything comes out other than as he wishes, he flies into a rage, shouts, and turns the house upside down, and not a single voice is raised against him. And yet he worships his family, every member of it. Is this love?

2 — I have a friend whom I have known for years. She spends every minute of her day seeking and laboring for the comfort and happiness of her husband and chil-

dren. She denies herself all manner of pleasures to provide her children with everything they desire, the necessary and the luxurious alike... And for the sake of her love for her family she neglects herself utterly, and appears plain of dress beside her husband and children...

I wonder — is this lady right in her love and in her self-sacrifice for it? Does she love her family truly, and do they repay her love with love, or with a love that is mere pity?

3 — I know a family of honorable lineage; one of its young men graduated from the law school, and they betrothed to him a kinswoman of his, a few years younger than he, possessed of beauty, refinement, and elegance. I saw him holding a picture of his

fiancée, contemplating it, and in his eyes the glow of contentment and the phantom of awaited happiness... Years later I saw the wife, and she did not seem a happy woman basking in the warm nest of matrimony. There was no love and no understanding between her and her husband; the marriage had been a marriage of interest and nothing more, and behold, the two spouses were strangers to each other, living in a loneliness beyond all loneliness — he in his office and his pleadings, and she in her bewilderment and her doubt...

... These are a few pictures of the many tragedies standing in our societies, which we imagine we are treating, while in reality their hidden diseases ravage our family

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