_Pippa Passes_ is the greatest poem ever written, with the exception of one or two by Walt Whitman, to express the sentiment of the pure love of humanity.

The phrase has unfortunately a false and pedantic sound.

The love of humanity is a thing supposed to be professed only by vulgar and officious philanthropists, or by saints of a superhuman detachment and universality.

As a matter of fact, love of humanity is the commonest and most natural of the feelings of a fresh nature, and almost every one has felt it alight capriciously upon him when looking at a crowded park or a room full of dancers.

The love of those whom we do not know is quite as eternal a sentiment as the love of those whom we do know.