Absolute proof that the horror of incest is not innate lies furthermore in the unquestionable fact that a man can escape the calamity of falling in love with his sister or daughter only if he knows the relationship.  There are many instances on record—­to which the daily press adds others—­of incestuous unions brought about by ignorance of the consanguinity.  Oedipus was not saved by an instinct from marrying his mother.  It was only after the discovery of the relationship that his mind was filled with unutterable horror, while his wife and mother committed suicide.  This case, though legendary, is typical—­a mirror of actuality—­showing how potent ideas are to alter emotions.  Yet I am assailed for asserting that the Greeks and the lower races, whose ideas regarding women, love, polygamy, chastity, and marriage were so different from ours, also differed from us in their feelings—­the quality of their love.  There were numerous obstacles to overcome before romantic love was able to emerge—­obstacles so serious and diverse that it is a wonder they were ever conquered.  But before considering those obstacles it will be advisable to explain definitely just what romantic love is and how it differs from the sensual “love” or lust which, of course, has always existed among men as among other animals.

WHAT IS ROMANTIC LOVE?

How does it feel to be in love?

When a man loves a girl, he feels such an overwhelming individual preference for her that though she were a beggar-maid he would scorn the offer to exchange her for an heiress, a princess, or the goddess of beauty herself.  To him she seems to have a monopoly of all the feminine charms, and she therefore monopolizes his thoughts and feelings to the exclusion of all other interests, and he longs not only for her reciprocal affection but for a monopoly of it.  “Does she love me?” he asks himself a hundred times a day.  “Sometimes she seems to treat me with cold indifference—­is that merely the instinctive assertion of feminine coyness, or does she prefer another man?” The pangs, the agony of jealousy overcome him at this thought.  He hopes one moment, despairs the next, till his moods become so mixed that he hardly knows whether he is happy or miserable.  He, who is usually so bold and self-confident, is humbled; feels utterly unworthy of her.  In his fancy she soars so far above all other women that calling her an angel seems not a hyperbole, but a compliment to the angel.  Toward such a superior being the only proper attitude is adoration.  She is spotless as an angel, and his feelings toward her are as pure, as free from coarse cravings, as if she were a goddess.  How royally proud a man must feel at the thought of being preferred above all mortals by this divine being!  In personal beauty had she ever a peer?  Since Venus left this planet, has such