than one single individual at the same time. "Thou entirely fillest my soul,"[1] sings the poet, and a full soul has as little room for other contents as a full bottle of champagne.
But now it happens very frequently in this queer world which denies to most people the opportunity of entering into suitable relations, or the liberty of dissolving unsuitable connections, that an object of love which "fills the soul entirely" cannot be found. In such a case one person can of course be able to embrace several objects of attachment at once, not only with the arms, but also with the soul, and it may be possible that a man, if he has a very large soul, must have recourse to a dozen or more women in order to fill it; yes, he may even feel sincere good-will towards each one of them, and may value each one especially for her individual qualities, just as we value the qualities of various flowers. But this can as little be an entirely satisfactory relation for each one of the twelve loved ones as for the man himself, if he is capable of a real, passionate, i.e., a true, love, which cannot be otherwise than exclusive. He will, should he even have the choice among a thousand women, still feel a void, and gladly exchange the thousand for a single one whom he can love as his ideal with complete devotion.
- ↑ "Du füllest meine Seele ganz."
