I'm supposed to be studying course material for the class I'll be teaching in less than a month, which means of course that I'm reading through a book by Henry Drummond, an influential Scottish writer and lecturer who lived during the late nineteenth century and wrote mostly about his two passions in life: science and religion. The title chapter of his book is a meditation on Love and since reading it I keep thinking about this:"Religion is not a strange or added thing, but the inspiration of the secular life, the breathing of an eternal spirit through this temporal world. [Love], in short, is not a thing at all, but the giving of a further finish to the multitudinous words and acts which make up the sum of every common day."
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