Part 10

As for the remaining characters of Romantic Love, which require a vivid imagination and persistent emotions for their realisation, it would be useless to look for them in Savagedom—except perhaps in those infinitesimal proportions in which various chemical substances are found by analysts in mineral waters. The following may be offered as an approximate list of the ingredients in the Love of savage and semi-civilised peoples:—

Selfishness 25·7684 Inconstancy 20·3701 Jealousy 0 to 20·7904 Coyness ” 10·5523 Individual Preference ” 5·0073 Personal Beauty ” 5·7002 Monopoly ” 7·3024 Pride of Possession 4·5082 Sympathy 0·0000 Gallantry 0·0006 Self-Sacrifice Traces Ecstatic Adoration ” Mixed Emotions ”

CAN AMERICAN NEGROES LOVE?

It is a very interesting question how far the negroes transplanted to America, who have adopted so many of the habits and ways of thinking of their white neighbours, are capable of forming a true romantic attachment, characterised by the various traits described in this work. I have not been able to find any conclusive evidence on this head; and should any readers of this book positively know any cases, I should be greatly obliged if they would forward a detailed account of them to me, in care of the publisher.

As regards a negro’s capacity for falling in Love with a white woman, the following interesting communication[1] appeared in the _New York Nation_, 12th February 1885: “In corroboration of ‘Bill Arp’s’ view, referred to in No. 1020 of the _Nation_, that negroes, as a race, do not desire to ‘mix’ with the white race, I may cite a remark recently made by a negro carpenter to a friend of mine. The latter said to him, as a village belle passed them on the street, ‘Charles, don’t you think that’s a very handsome young lady?’ ‘I reckon so,’ he answered doubtfully, and immediately added, ‘Fact is, boss, us coloured folks don’t think white ladies handsome; we like ’em coloured the best.’

“Had it been otherwise there would, doubtless, have been innumerable instances, in the North as well as at the South, of love-longings on the part of negro men toward girls of the dominant race. Yet during all the years I have spent in the Southern States, I never knew or heard of any instances of this kind, and their exceptional character in the North must be known to all your readers. The hopelessness of such attachments would, of course, diminish their number; but fancy is always free, and ‘hopeless attachments’ among members of the same race are as common now as when Petrarch sighed for Laura, and Tasso wrote ‘The throne of Cupid has an easy stair,’ himself having climbed it uninspired by hope. The existence of many persons of mixed blood throughout the country affords no proof that the two races feel toward each other the attraction of love; for the fathers, in these cases, are almost invariably white, and the offspring cannot be called ‘love-children,’ but the fruit of mere passion linked with opportunity.”

Footnote 1:

Signed Sue Harry Clagett.

HISTORY OF LOVE

It would be a profitless task to hunt for the first traces of the various elements of Love in the records of all the nations of antiquity; for we meet almost everywhere with the same old story of Romantic Love impeded in its growth or its very existence by the degraded position of women, and by the absence of opportunities for courtship, and for free matrimonial choice. A few remarks, however, must be made concerning Love among the ancient Egyptians, Hebrews, Greeks, Romans, and our Aryan kinsfolk in India, before passing on to Mediæval and Modern Love.

LOVE IN EGYPT

Dr. Georg Ebers, the Leipzig professor, and author of the popular series of historic Egyptian novels, remarks that “if it is true that a nation’s degree of culture can be estimated by the more or less favourable position accorded its women, then Egyptian culture ranks above that of all other ancient peoples.”

The women of ancient Egypt were not kept in seclusion like those of Greece. They did their own marketing, and had other domestic and public liberties and privileges which astonished the Greek historian Herodotus, who also mentions that although polygamy was tolerated among them, monogamy was the rule. Inasmuch as the Egyptians had an advanced culture, invented many arts, promoted the sciences, and were industrial rather than militant in their occupations, it is possible that several of the more refined elements of Romantic Love may have existed among them; for just as we have seen that some animals have higher notions of love, conjugal and romantic, than some savages, although the latter represent a later stage of evolution, so it seems probable that among the nations of antiquity Love did not progress steadily, year by year; but that some nations had more and some less of it; while the acquisitions of one period may have been lost in evil and corrupt times following, as was certainly the case in India.

Since we have no such extensive literature of Egypt as we have of the Greeks, Romans, and Hebrews, it is not easy to arrive at definite conclusions. But the Egyptian custom of forming “trial marriages” for one year, and the ease with which a husband could divorce and expel his wife by simply pronouncing three words in her presence do not harmonise with our modern notions of Love. How scornfully a modern Romeo would reject the very notion of such a trial-marriage! for does he not feel _absolutely_ certain that his Love is eternal and unalterable?

The institution of trial-marriages seems to point to the conclusion that the Egyptians, like the Greeks, looked upon marriage primarily as a means of augmenting the family and the state, and not as a union of loving souls—children or no children—which is the modern ideal.

Professor Ebers of course has a right to make use of a poetic license in painting the Love affairs of his Egyptian heroes and heroines in modern colours, as Shakspere does in _Antony and Cleopatra_. At the same time it would give an added flavour to historic romances if their pictures of domestic and public life were characterised by _emotional realism_ as well as by general antiquarian accuracy. The elaborate analysis of Love, for the first time attempted in the present monograph, should facilitate this task for novelists.

ANCIENT HEBREW LOVE

It is almost startling to find, on consulting a Concordance of the Old and New Testaments, that in the whole of the Bible there is not a single reference to Romantic Love. Had this sentiment existed among the ancient Hebrews as it does among their descendants to-day, it is obvious that it could not possibly have been ignored in the Book of Books, which so eloquently and poetically discourses of everything else that is of vital interest to man. Conjugal Love (which apparently antedates Romantic Love in every nation) is indeed repeatedly referred to and enjoined, as well as the other family affections; but in the remaining cases the word Love is always used in the sense of religious veneration, or of regard for a neighbour or an enemy.

This absence of any reference to Romantic Love is all the more surprising in view of the fact that among the ancient Hebrews woman was held more in honour than with any other Oriental nation, ancient or modern. Thus we are told in M‘Clintock and Strong’s _Cyclopædia of Biblical etc. Literature_, that “the seclusion of the harem and the habits consequent upon it were utterly unknown in early times, and the condition of the Oriental woman, as pictured to us in the Bible, contrasts most favourably with that of her modern representative. There is abundant evidence that women, whether married or unmarried, went about with their faces unveiled. An unmarried woman might meet and converse with men, even strangers, in a public place; she might be found alone in the country without any reflection on her character; or she might appear in a court of justice.” The wife “entertained guests at her own desire in the absence of her husband, and sometimes even in defiance of his wishes.”

Since, therefore, the Hebrew woman was not “the husband’s slave but his companion,” how are we to account for the absence of Love?

Some light is thrown on the matter by the prevalence of polygamy, which, as we have seen, is inimical to the growth of Love. Polygamy, though not universal, was sanctioned by the Mosaic law, except in the case of priests. “The secondary wife was regarded by the Hebrews as a wife, and her rights were secured by law.” In the cases of Abraham and Jacob, polygamy was resorted to at the request of their own wives, “under the idea that children born to a slave were in the eye of the law the children of the mistress.” Now if a woman advises her own husband to take another wife, there must be a total absence of Jealousy and Monopoly—the two elements of Romantic Love which pass into conjugal affection without diminution of force.

Again, although Hebrew women are said to have had considerable liberty of going about alone in town and country, this probably refers in most cases to the privilege of tending sheep and of fetching water at the well. “From all education in general,” says Ploss, “as well as _from social intercourse with men, woman was excluded_; her destination being simply to increase the number of children, and take care of household matters. She lived a quiet life, merely for her husband, who, indeed, treated her with respect and consideration, but without feeling any special tenderness toward her.”

It is the line which I have italicised in the above quotation that suggests the principal reason of the non-existence of Love in Biblical times: There were no meetings of the young, no opportunities for Courtship, the indispensable condition of Love, which requires time and opportunity for its growth. And not only were there no regular opportunities for Courtship, but if they offered themselves casually, the young folks could not derive much benefit, from them; for not only the daughter’s choice, but even the son’s was neutralised by the parental command. “Fathers from the beginning considered it both their duty and prerogative to find or select wives _for their sons_ (Gen. xxiv. 3; xxxviii. 6). In the absence of the father, the selection devolved upon the mother (Gen. xxi. 21). Even in cases where the wishes of the son were consulted, the proposals were made by the father (Gen. xxxiv. 4, 8); and the violation of this parental prerogative on the part of the son was ‘a grief of mind’ to the father (Gen. xxvi. 35). The proposals were generally made by the parents of the young man, except when there was a difference of rank, in which case the negotiations proceeded from the father of the maiden (Exod. ii. 21), and when accepted by the parents on both sides, sometimes also consulting the opinion of the adult brothers of the maiden (Gen. xxiv. 51; xxxiv. 11), the matter was considered as settled, _without requiring the consent of the bride_” (M‘Clintock and Strong).

But how about the Song of Solomon—the Song of Songs? Is not that a song of Love, and an exception to our general statement? It appears so at first sight; and the German writer Herder, in his detailed and glowing analysis of it, declares that it depicts love “from its first origin, from its tenderest bud, through all stages and conditions of its growth, its flowering, its maturing, to the ripe fruit and new offshoot.” Herder, however, is a very unsafe and shallow guide in this matter. An attempt has lately been made to rehabilitate him in Germany, where his fame has become almost extinct; but in vain, for his pompous, stilted rhetoric and imagery cannot conceal from modern readers his lack of ideas and limited knowledge of facts. He asserts that, as there is only one Goodness, one Truth, so there is but one Love (or Affection). If you do not love your wife, he says, you will not love your friend, parents, or child. A writer whose notions of the psychology of love are so excessively crude cannot be considered a trustworthy judge in the matter in question. So far as love is referred to in the Song of Solomon, it is probable that conjugal affection is meant.

It is a curious fact that of the famous German, English, and French theologians who have written commentaries on the Song of Songs, no two seem to agree in their interpretation of its plot and significance. It is now generally agreed, too, that the Song was not written by Solomon, but some time after him. It seems, indeed, incredible that a monarch who had a thousand wives, and whose affections must have been torn into a thousand shreds, and cannot have been very lasting, should have written these marvellous lines: “For love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man should give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.”

This passage has a remarkably modern and romantic sound—so modern and romantic that it would not seem out of place in Shakspere. But it needs no knowledge of Hebrew to see that the responsibility for this modern sound rests with the English translators. Luther’s more literal version appears much less modern. Indeed, throughout the Song of Solomon the English translators have idealised the language of passion, in harmony with modern notions on the subject; so that it is only on reading Luther’s version that one begins to understand why the Talmudists did not allow the Jews to read this book before their thirtieth year.

Perhaps the most ingenious and consistent of the numerous interpretations of the Song of Solomon is that given by M. Chas. Bruston in the _Encyclopædie des Sciences Religieuses_ (ii. 610-612). The repetition of the flatteries occurring in the poem he explains by showing that the second time they refer, not to the Sulamite, but to a princess of Lebanon whom Solomon married. Hence, he insists, the repetition is not so much a literary blemish as an indication “combien est vil et méprisable l’amour sensuel et polygame, qui prodigue indifférement les mêmes flatteries a des femmes différentes.”

The imaginative and poetic terms in which feminine charms are depicted in the Song of Songs show that, nevertheless, at least the sensuous phase of the overtone of Personal Admiration was strongly developed among the ancient Hebrews; not strongly enough, however, to lead them, as it led other ancient nations, to embody their ideals of feminine and masculine beauty in marble monuments of sculpture.

ANCIENT ARYAN LOVE

As it is among the Aryan or “Indo-Germanic” races of Europe and America that Modern Love has produced its most beautiful blossoms, it is, even more than in the case of the non-Aryan Jews and Egyptians, of interest to know something concerning its prevalence among the Asiatic peoples who appear as the nearest modern representatives of our remote Aryan ancestors.

In no country, perhaps, has the position of woman differed so greatly at various epochs as in India. Previous to the introduction of Brahminism, women were held in esteem, enjoyed diverse privileges, and were allowed free social intercourse with the men, while monogamy was the recognised form of marriage. The Brahmins, however, introduced polygamy, setting a good example by sometimes marrying a whole family, “old and young, daughters, aunts, sisters, and cousins”; and one case is known of a Brahmin who had 120 wives, according to Schweiger Lerchenfeld. Family feeling was subordinated to considerations of caste, and by a sophistical interpretation of ancient laws the Brahmins introduced the custom of Suttee, or the burning alive of widows on the deceased husband’s funeral pyre. This habit is sometimes regarded as the very apotheosis of conjugal affection, but it was simply what is known in modern psychology as an epidemic delusion; the poor women being rendered willing to sacrifice themselves by the doctrine that to die in this way was something specially voluptuous and meritorious; while those who refused to be immolated were treated as social outcasts who were not allowed to marry again or to adorn their persons in any way.

The references to women in the laws of Manu show in what low esteem they came to be held in India. A few of the maxims contained in this work may be cited: “Of dishonour woman is the cause; of enmity woman is the cause; of mundane existence woman is the cause; hence woman is to be avoided.” “A girl, a maiden, a wife shall never do anything in accordance with her own will, not even in her own house.” “A woman shall serve her husband all life long, and remain true to him even after death; even though he should deceive her, love another, and be devoid of good qualities, a good wife should nevertheless revere him as if he were a god; she must not displease him in anything, neither in life nor after his death.” So wretched, indeed, became woman’s lot that Indian mothers, it is said, “often drown their female children in the sacred streams of India, to preserve them from the fate awaiting them in life.” Letourneau states that “up to modern times Hindoo laws and manners have been modelled after the sacred precepts. When Somerat made his voyage, it was considered improper for a respectable woman to know how to read or dance. These futile accomplishments were left to the courtesan, the Bayadere.”

HINDOO LOVE MAXIMS

That such a state of affairs was not favourable to Romantic Love is obvious. Nevertheless there appears to have been a period—about 1200 or 1500 years ago—when some of the inhabitants of India were familiar with most of the emotions which enter into Modern Love. This evidence is contained in the _Seven Hundred Maxims of Hâla_, a collection of poetic utterances dating back not further than the third century of our era, and comprising productions by various authors, including as many as sixteen of the female persuasion. They are written in a sister-language of Sanscrit, the Prâkrit; and their form indicates that they were intended to be sung. Herr Albrecht Weber remarks in the _Deutsche Rundschau_ with reference to this collection: “At the very beginning of our acquaintance with Sanscrit literature, towards the end of the last century, it was noticed, and was claimed forthwith as an eloquent proof of antique relationship, that Indian poetry, especially of the amatory kind, is in character remarkably allied to our own modern poetry. The sentimental qualities of modern verse, in one word, were traced in Indian poetry in a much higher degree than they had been found in Greek and Roman literature; and this discovery awakened at once, notably in Germany, a sympathetic interest in a country whose poets spoke a language so well known to our hearts, as though they had been born among ourselves.”

Some of these maxims apparently depict the family life of the lower classes; others appear rather as if they had been intended to be sung by the Bayaderes, or singing and dancing girls of the Buddhist temples, who emancipated themselves from the domestic and educational restrictions placed on other women, and sought to fascinate men with their wit, love, and æsthetic accomplishments. This suggestion is borne out by the fact that most of the maxims are feminine utterances, and often of questionable moral character. Although, therefore, some of these revelations of early Aryan Love have an unpleasant by-flavour, they are yet extremely interesting as showing how dependent Romantic Love is on the freedom and the intellectual and æsthetic culture of woman.

We find in the maxims of Halâ evidences of that important overtone of Love, Ecstatic Adoration or Poetic Hyperbole, which we have not encountered elsewhere, so far. What could be more modern than this:—

“Although all my possessions were burnt in the village fire, yet is my heart delighted, since _he_ took the buckets from me when they were passed from hand to hand.”

Or this:—

“O thou who art skilled in cookery, restrain thy anger! The reason why the fire refuses to burn, and only smokes, is that it may the longer drink in the breath of your mouth, fragrant as the red potato-blossoms.”

The following two show how Personal Beauty was appreciated:—

“He sees nothing but her face, and she too is quite intoxicated by his looks. Both, satisfied with each other, act as if in the whole world there were no other women or men.”

“Other beauties likewise have in their faces beautiful, wide black eyes, with long lashes,—but no one else understands as she does how to use them.”

How Love establishes his Monopoly in heart and mind, tolerating no other thought, is thus shown:—

“She stares without a (visible) object, draws a deep sigh, laughs into empty space, mutters unintelligible words—forsooth, there must be something on her heart.”

Ovid himself might have written the following, showing Love’s inconstancy:—

“Love departs when lovers are separated; it departs when they see too much of each other; it departs in consequence of malicious gossip; aye, it departs also without these causes.”

The nature of Coyness is evidently understood, for the lover is thus admonished:—

“My son, such is the nature of love, suddenly to get angry, to make up again in a moment, to dissemble its language, to tease immoderately.”

And yet the poet deems it necessary to tell a sweetheart that—

“By forgiving him at first sight, you foolish girl, you deprived yourself of many pleasures,—of his prostration at your feet [a trace of Gallantry], of a kiss passionately stolen.”

The sadness of separation thus finds utterance:—

“As is sickness without a physician; as living with relatives when one is poor,—as the sight of an enemy’s prosperity,—so is it difficult to endure separation from you.”

Thus we find in Ancient Aryan Love some of the leading features of modern romantic passion.

GREEK LOVE

The Greeks, too, were Aryans, and they were the most refined and æsthetic nation of antiquity; yet we look in vain in their literature for delineations of that Romantic Love which, according to our notions, ought to accompany so high a degree of culture.

FAMILY AFFECTIONS

Conjugal tenderness and the other family affections appear; indeed, to have been known and cherished by the Greeks at all times, in the days of Athenian supremacy, when women were kept in entire seclusion, no less than in Homeric times, when they seem to have enjoyed more liberty of action. Plutarch tells us in his _Conjugal Precepts_ that “With women tenderness of heart is indicated by a pleasing countenance, by sweetness of speech, by an affectionate grace, and by a high degree of sensitiveness;” and Mr. Lecky thus eloquently sums up the evidence that the Greeks appreciated the various forms of domestic affection:—