word, when he is a man, it is then that the affection of a father for his
son becomes love. He feels himself invaded by a need of a special
fondness, of which the sweetest recollections of his past life can give
no idea. A deep sentiment envelopes his heart, the countless roots of
which sink into it in all directions. Defects or qualities penetrate and
feed on this sentiment. Thus, we find in paternal love all the
weaknesses and all the greatnesses of humanity. Vanity, abnegation,
pride, and disinterestedness are united together, and man in his entirety
appears in the papa.

It is on the day which the child becomes a mirror in which you recognize
your features, that the heart is moved and awakens. Existence becomes
duplicated, you are no longer one, but one and a half; you feel your
importance increase, and, in the future of the little creature who
belongs to you, you reconstruct your own past; you resuscitate, and are
born again in him. You say to yourself: "I will spare him such and such
a vexation which I had to suffer, I will clear from his path such and
such a stone over which I stumbled, I will make him happy, and he shall
owe all to me; he shall be, thanks to me, full of talents and
attractions." You give him, in advance, all that you did not get
yourself, and in his future arrange laurels for a little crown for your
own brows.

Human weakness, no doubt; but what matter, provided the sentiment that
gives birth to this weakness is the strongest and purest of all? What
matter if a limpid stream springs up between two paving stones? Are we
to be blamed for being generous out of egotism, and for devoting
ourselves to others for reasons of personal enjoyment?

Thus, in the father, vanity is the leading string. Say to any father: