But promiscuity
and impersonality are not the same thing. No man ever fell in love
with the entire female sex, nor any woman with the entire male
sex. We often do not fall in love at all; and when we do we fall
in love with one person and remain indifferent to thousands of
others who pass before our eyes every day. Selection, carried even
to such fastidiousness as to induce people to say quite commonly
that there is only one man or woman in the world for them, is the
rule in nature. If anyone doubts this, let him open a shop for the
sale of picture postcards, and, when an enamoured lady customer
demands a portrait of her favorite actor or a gentleman of his
favorite actress, try to substitute some other portrait on the
ground that since the sexual instinct is promiscuous, one portrait
is as pleasing as another. I suppose no shopkeeper has ever been
foolish enough to do such a thing; and yet all our shopkeepers,
the moment a discussion arises on marriage, will passionately
argue against all reform on the ground that nothing but the most
severe coercion can save their wives and daughters from
quite indiscriminate rapine.
DOMESTIC CHANGE OF AIR
Our relief at the morality of the reassurance that man is not
promiscuous in his fancies must not blind us to the fact that he
is (to use the word coined by certain American writers to describe
themselves) something of a Varietist.
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