Infatuation and Being in Love. While, as said, the feeling of love does not readily lend itself to dissection, to analysis, still we can differentiate some phases of it. We can differentiate between "being in love," "infatuation," and "love." Being in love is, as just indicated, a pathological, morbid phenomenon. The person who is in love is not in a normal condition. He can see nothing, he cannot be argued with, as far as his love is concerned. She is the acme of perfection, physical, mental, and spiritual; nobody can be compared with her. And, of course, the man is anxiously eager to marry the object of his love—unless insuperable obstacles are in the way; for instance, if the man happens to be married.
Infatuation may be as strong as any "being in love" feeling. But with this difference. In infatuation the man may know that the object of infatuation is an unworthy one, he may despise her, he may hate her, he may pray for her death, he may do his utmost to overcome the infatuation. In short, infatuation is a feeling, chiefly physical, which the man can analyze, the unworthiness and absurdity of which he may acknowledge, but which he is unable to resist or overcome. He feels himself bewitched; he feels himself caught in a net, he is anxious to tear asunder the meshes of the net, but is not strong enough to do it.
And this is a pretty good way to differentiate between being in love and being infatuated. If in love the man does not want to be free from his chains; he does not want to cease to love or to be in love. When infatuated the man often uses his utmost will-power to break his shackles. Sexual satisfaction is often sufficient to shatter an infatuation; it is not sufficient to destroy love—it often strengthens and eternalizes it.
Neither being in love nor infatuation can last "forever"; they are acute maladies of high tension and relatively short duration. Infatuation may change into indifference or disgust; "being in love" may change into indifference, hatred, or into real love—a steady, durable love.
This will answer the often asked question: How do marriages turn out which are the result of a sudden, violent passion, or of love at first sight? No ironclad rules suitable for all cases can be given. Some turn out very unhappily, the couple gradually finding out that they are altogether unsuited to each other, that their temperaments are incompatible, that their views, ideas, likes and dislikes are different. In some cases what was supposed to be a great love is soon seen to have been merely an infatuation. And satiety and disgust follow. But in other cases, as mentioned, the sudden consuming passion turns into a warm, life-long love and the people live happily ever after.
Dr. Nyström relates the case of a prominent physician of France, of high social and scientific standing, who beheld a young girl accidentally in the street. He did not have the slightest idea who she was. He was irresistibly attracted to her. He followed her, boarded the same omnibus and went to the house which she entered, rang the bell, introduced himself, begging pardon for his intrusion, but was dismissed. He returned and explained to her his ardent passion and asked permission to visit her parents, well-to-do people in the country, and the climax was a mutual love and a happy marriage.
Many of us know of similar cases. But as a rule the slow developing love is more reliable than the suddenly bursting out flame.
Love is the most complex, the most mysterious, the most unanalyzable of human emotions. It is based upon the difference in sex—upon the attraction of one sex for another. It is fostered by physical beauty, by daintiness, by a normal sexuality, by a fine character, by high aspirations, by culture and education, by common interests, by kindness and consideration, by pity, by habit and by a thousand other subtle feelings, qualities and actions, which are difficult of classification or enumeration.
A great love, greatly reciprocated, is in itself capable of rendering a human being supremely happy. Nothing else is. Other things, such as wealth, power, fame, success, great discoveries, may give supreme satisfaction, great contentment, but supreme, buoyant happiness is the gift of a great love only. Such loves are rare, and the mortals that achieve it are the envy of the gods. But a great love, unreciprocated, especially when admixed to it is the feeling of jealousy, is the most frightful of tortures; it will crush a man like nothing else will, and the victims of this emotional catastrophe are pitied by the inmates of the lowest inferno.
Infatuation may be as strong as any "being in love" feeling. But with this difference. In infatuation the man may know that the object of infatuation is an unworthy one, he may despise her, he may hate her, he may pray for her death, he may do his utmost to overcome the infatuation. In short, infatuation is a feeling, chiefly physical, which the man can analyze, the unworthiness and absurdity of which he may acknowledge, but which he is unable to resist or overcome. He feels himself bewitched; he feels himself caught in a net, he is anxious to tear asunder the meshes of the net, but is not strong enough to do it.
And this is a pretty good way to differentiate between being in love and being infatuated. If in love the man does not want to be free from his chains; he does not want to cease to love or to be in love. When infatuated the man often uses his utmost will-power to break his shackles. Sexual satisfaction is often sufficient to shatter an infatuation; it is not sufficient to destroy love—it often strengthens and eternalizes it.
Neither being in love nor infatuation can last "forever"; they are acute maladies of high tension and relatively short duration. Infatuation may change into indifference or disgust; "being in love" may change into indifference, hatred, or into real love—a steady, durable love.
This will answer the often asked question: How do marriages turn out which are the result of a sudden, violent passion, or of love at first sight? No ironclad rules suitable for all cases can be given. Some turn out very unhappily, the couple gradually finding out that they are altogether unsuited to each other, that their temperaments are incompatible, that their views, ideas, likes and dislikes are different. In some cases what was supposed to be a great love is soon seen to have been merely an infatuation. And satiety and disgust follow. But in other cases, as mentioned, the sudden consuming passion turns into a warm, life-long love and the people live happily ever after.
Dr. Nyström relates the case of a prominent physician of France, of high social and scientific standing, who beheld a young girl accidentally in the street. He did not have the slightest idea who she was. He was irresistibly attracted to her. He followed her, boarded the same omnibus and went to the house which she entered, rang the bell, introduced himself, begging pardon for his intrusion, but was dismissed. He returned and explained to her his ardent passion and asked permission to visit her parents, well-to-do people in the country, and the climax was a mutual love and a happy marriage.
Many of us know of similar cases. But as a rule the slow developing love is more reliable than the suddenly bursting out flame.
Love is the most complex, the most mysterious, the most unanalyzable of human emotions. It is based upon the difference in sex—upon the attraction of one sex for another. It is fostered by physical beauty, by daintiness, by a normal sexuality, by a fine character, by high aspirations, by culture and education, by common interests, by kindness and consideration, by pity, by habit and by a thousand other subtle feelings, qualities and actions, which are difficult of classification or enumeration.
A great love, greatly reciprocated, is in itself capable of rendering a human being supremely happy. Nothing else is. Other things, such as wealth, power, fame, success, great discoveries, may give supreme satisfaction, great contentment, but supreme, buoyant happiness is the gift of a great love only. Such loves are rare, and the mortals that achieve it are the envy of the gods. But a great love, unreciprocated, especially when admixed to it is the feeling of jealousy, is the most frightful of tortures; it will crush a man like nothing else will, and the victims of this emotional catastrophe are pitied by the inmates of the lowest inferno.
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