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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f57f44 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,13 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text +*.htm text +*.html text +*.png binary +*.jpg binary +*.svg text +*.pdf binary +*.bmp binary +*.zip binary +*.midi binary +*.mp3 binary diff --git a/79296-0.txt b/79296-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bae6fd --- /dev/null +++ b/79296-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11322 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79296 *** + + + + + GENIUS AND + DEGENERATION + + _A PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY_ + + BY + DR. WILLIAM HIRSCH + + Translated from the Second Edition of + the German Work + + LONDON + WILLIAM HEINEMANN + 1897 + + [_All rights reserved_] + + + + + Dedicated, + WITH THE AUTHOR’S AFFECTIONATE ESTEEM, TO + DR. E. MENDEL, + PROFESSOR OF NERVOUS AND MENTAL DISEASES AT + THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN. + + + + + PREFACE. + + +It is a special trait of recent times that science, particularly +the natural sciences, have assumed an international character. All +civilized nations are equally interested in the great problems of +the day, and they all contribute in greater or less degree to the +mighty structure of modern science. Nevertheless, the mutual exchange +of ideas is sometimes impeded by differences of language, and this +difficulty is increased when not only the external form but also the +presentation of the subject bears the stamp of a peculiarly national +characteristic. I felt myself confronted by such a difficulty when I +concluded to place the present work before an English-speaking public. +The anthropological questions treated here have made it necessary to +undertake a psychological analysis of certain individuals, and to +attempt to penetrate as far as possible to the depths of their mental +processes. It was natural that in the original production of this +work the intellectual heroes of the German people should have been +selected, and it is evident that the appreciation of their traits and +work is more perfect among their own people than among foreign nations. +Nevertheless, I am sure that the characters selected for analysis, from +whose life and works I have attempted to arrive at a correct conception +of both genius and degeneration, are sufficiently well known to the +English reader. + +The purpose of this publication was to aid in the elucidation of +certain anthropological moot-questions and to clear up certain notions +that were apt to create confusion not only in medical circles but also +in the wider field of the cultured laity. It can hardly be necessary to +disclaim any personal motives in my criticisms of the views of other +writers on this subject. Nor was it my object to enter into a critique +of the artistic value of the productions of those whose works I have +examined, and I trust the reader will bear these facts in mind while +perusing the polemical portions of the book. If I have contributed in +some measure to a clearer view of the truth of the questions discussed, +the purpose of this work will be fulfilled. + + W. H. + +_August, 1896._ + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + Introduction 1 + + The Limits of Insanity 6 + + The Psychology of Genius 18 + + Genius and Insanity 71 + + Degeneration 118 + + Influence of Education upon Genius 147 + + Secular Hysteria 170 + + Art and Insanity 199 + + Richard Wagner and Psychopathology 249 + + Conclusion 320 + + + + + INTRODUCTION. + + +Psychiatry, or the science of mental diseases, is one of the fruits of +the century now drawing to its close. It was only in 1792 that Pinel +struck the fetters off the patients at the Bicêtre and began to treat +them humanely; and as late as 1818 Esquirol reported to the ministry +that criminals, not to say brutes, were better treated in France than +were the insane. The progress of this youthful science within the last +decades may, however, be contemplated with some degree of satisfaction, +and with a strong confidence that the stream of knowledge will be +poured out in still fuller volume in the years to come. + +Maturer studies and better-reasoned treatment are gradually enlarging +the class of mental disorders that are curable. Society has also to +thank modern researchers into the causes--the etiology--of those +diseases. By this study we are enabled to oppose the production and +spread of those maladies; and general information about their causes +will directly contribute to the well-being of the community. + +Derangement of mind has in all ages had no inconsiderable influence +upon the course of history and the development of civilization; there +is much in society that is mentally unwholesome and many crazes that +psychiatry can show how to avoid. That insanity is a disease of a +particular organ, biologically indistinguishable from a somatic +disorder, was, in former times, not understood. The notion of madness +was mixed up with religious faiths and metaphysical theories. Thousands +were burned at the stake simply because men were not so far enlightened +as to recognise that their victims were mentally sick, instead of +being, as they imagined, bewitched or possessed by devils. Think, +too, of the multitudes of entirely sane and innocent persons who were +sent to the rack and the stake upon the accusations of madmen--mere +crazy delusions! Along with such dreadful results of ignorance, and +contributing to them, we find, in ages widely separated, men’s general +conceptions of the course of nature influenced by superstitions and +religious enthusiasms fostered by the behaviour of the insane, and +accepted largely in deference to teachings of bewildered minds. + +About the end of the eighteenth century the sad veil of superstition +began to be lifted. Yet the pathway of knowledge was still a thorny +and difficult one. Many an obstacle remained to be removed. Many a hot +fight had to be fought out. Often and often, even in this nineteenth +century, theologians set their traps to render the scientific pathway +personally perilous. Even as elevated a mind as Heinroth declared that +the cause of insanity was sin. + +Alienists to-day no longer regard mental and bodily maladies as +distinct. In the majority of bodily diseases some affection of the +mental powers is observable; so that no scientific physician will +overlook the importance of psychical influences. On the other hand, +bodily symptoms occur in by far the greater proportion of cases +of insanity. We can sometimes predict a severe and almost fatal +derangement of the mind, at a time when hardly any aberration has yet +appeared, on the strength of somatic symptoms that no ordinary person +would remark. Thus, mental and bodily disease are quite inseparable; +and a rational treatment of psychoses must be based upon a solid +foundation of general medical skill. + +In spite of all these facts, attempts are still made to withdraw the +care of the insane from the hands of physicians and to intrust it to +the clergy. At a meeting of the German Union of Evangelical Curates of +the Insane, the Rev. von Bodelschwingh, while admitting that “modern +medico-scientific psychiatry had done good service in the recognition, +treatment, and cure of the insane,” yet censured it as “at bottom +materialistic and temporal.” “It leaves,” he said, “sin and grace, +conscience and guilt, quite out of sight, and does not recognise that +forgiveness of sins brings life and spiritual health.” He continued +as follows: “Speaking broadly, the less the bodily physician uses his +_materia medica_ in mental maladies, the better. Such things, for the +most part, only damage body and soul. The bodily physician may be +helpful in the care of the insane, but the prime thing is the treatment +of the sick soul; and this should not be intrusted to the physician in +the main.”[1] + +Such utterances are, of course, merely the efforts of the clergy to +extend their power. But inasmuch as they tend to injure patients, not +to say society itself, the interests of civilization call upon men of +science to combat them. + +Nor is it by the clergy alone that attacks upon psychiatry are made. +Various causes have conspired to create of late years some distrust +of this branch of medicine. The general public is naturally liable to +misinterpret cases of insanity in which the symptoms are not so obvious +that no onlooker can mistake them, and where the practised eye of the +specialist is required to detect their real nature. Then, too, the not +infrequent differences of opinion among experts in insanity, leading, +as they often do, to contrary judgments about the nature of individual +cases, are cited as so many proofs that psychiatry is an illusory +science, and that its practitioners are not to be trusted to decide +upon the fate of a man. + +But this is altogether fallacious. Similar objections would lie against +any other practical science. Name, if you can, the branch of clinical +medicine in which doubtful cases do not occur, or where divergences +of opinion are less frequent than in psychiatry itself. No science +whatsoever is perfect or infallible. In every field our knowledge and +skill have their limits, and there are disputed marches between the +completed conquests of science and the regions her armies have not yet +invaded. Cases in law, as everybody knows, are continually arising +concerning which the greatest jurists pronounce diametrically contrary +opinions. Yet the ideas and terms with which the lawyer has to deal +are, from the nature of things, susceptible of more rigidly exact +definition than those which form the stock of the alienist. + +In point of accuracy, psychical pathology simply stands upon the +general level of other branches of clinical medicine. There are +cases upon the border line between insanity and mental sanity, and +concerning them differences of opinion are unavoidable. But how can +that be considered to detract from the value of the general science? +Mistakes occur wherever human judgment has to be exercised. Indeed, +every remarkable advance of human knowledge is secured at the cost of +temporary errors. + +No doubt many tendencies in modern psychiatry spring from erroneous +conceptions. The very purpose of this book is to contribute something +toward the clearing up of certain psychological and psychiatrical +notions which have already occasioned not a few disputes and +misunderstandings. + +The wisdom of early ages burned the insane as witches and sorcerers, +or, at best, incarcerated them in dismal dungeons and loaded them with +chains. Down to the very beginning of this century insanity was hardly +recognised as a branch of medical science. But now the pendulum has +swung the other way, and there are efforts in many quarters to narrow +more and more the boundaries of mental sanity, until every mind, +decidedly unlike those we daily come in touch with, or manifesting any +extraordinary characteristics is labelled as diseased. Not only are the +less gifted--particularly criminals--frequently considered as insane, +but eminent writers go so far as to pronounce every mind whose capacity +greatly surpasses the average to be a pathological subject. + +Such doctrines are examples of a class of errors which frequently +arise from the gradual modification of the meanings of scientific +terms that had never been distinctly apprehended. Among such terms are +those of Genius and Degeneration; and to analyze these conceptions +is the purpose of this work. Their psychological and psychiatric +significations have, as we shall find, been most diversely conceived, +and this has led to many misunderstandings. + +Before we enunciate our proper theses it will be convenient briefly +to consider the main symptoms of insanity, so that we may be able +to estimate how far we are in a condition to draw any sharp line of +demarcation between mental sanity and mental disease. + + + + + THE LIMITS OF INSANITY. + + +The symptoms of psychical disorders resemble those of the body in this: +that they are not phenomena absolutely unlike those of the normal +state, but are mere modifications of the latter. In the vast majority +of instances they consist in a relative augmentation or diminution of +healthy conditions, so that for every symptom of insanity we are able +to point out an analogous normal process of the mind. + +Considering that even in somatic medicine, with the aid of all the +appliances there at our command, we can not always draw the line +between health and disease, we certainly ought not to expect to do so +in every case presented to psychiatry, concerned as this branch is with +a far more complicated organism than any other department of medicine. +Nor should we draw the limits of health too narrowly; we have to allow +sufficient room for all varieties of minds. + +Let a sane man undergo a mental shock, say the death of a near +relative. He will experience an intense depression of feeling, and will +very likely be overwhelmed with grief. The events of the world around +him will pass unnoticed, and things that had excited his interest in +the highest degree will fail to make upon him the slightest impression. +The intensity of this condition will vary with different men. One will +be more susceptible to psychical pains than another. One will be able +to fight down his feelings with his reason, while another will give +himself over to unbridled grief. But whether in greater degree or +less, in some measure, in the circumstances supposed, the sane man +will always experience such grief. Complete psychical anæsthesia, or +insensibility, is a symptom of psychical disease. We observe it in the +most diverse forms of insanity. + +On the other hand, it is not unusual to find persons in whom such a +depression of spirits as we have described is brought on by quite +trifling causes. The refusal of a new dress or seal-skin sack, rainy +weather which interferes with a projected picnic, and things of that +description, may suffice to bring on a shower of tears and to conjure +up a state of despair, or at least of deep mental perturbation. In +fact, this is the regular result with children. But in adults we +call it excessive sensitiveness, or psychical hyperæsthesia. It is +especially met with in hysterical and degenerate individuals. + +Finally, the same state of deep depression and complete apathy is also +found without the slightest outward reason, being brought on by inward +conditions. In that case we diagnose a grave psychical malady--to wit, +melancholia. + +It is the same with the cheerful emotions. Any sound man may, upon +a particularly joyful occasion, as upon the successful passage of +an examination, or the winning of a lottery prize, give way to an +exuberance of behaviour which a hysterical or degenerate subject will +exhibit upon the most trifling occasion. But if such a state is brought +on without any external reason whatever, it betokens a form of disease +which may pass into foaming rage; and this we term mania. + +It is just the same with anger, vexation, fear, anxiety, and other +emotions. From the normal psychical action we pass through successive +exaggerations of emotion to a rage quite without reason but determined +by inward conditions. + +Even irrational emotion is not without its analogue within the latitude +of the normal state of our spirits. Almost every man has his ups and +downs of spirits, his greater or less mental tone. One day, he knows +not why, he is in good condition for work; another day he has to force +himself to his duty. An artist says, “It is of no use; I am in no trim +for work to-day; I am not in the mood for it.” If we imagined curves to +be drawn of these moods in different men, we should find waves of small +amplitude even in the most solid and stolid men of business; while +passing to the artists, and from them to the Skimpoles, and from them, +again, to persons usually called hysterical, the oscillations would be +greater and greater. The slight spontaneous irregularities of temper +of the perfectly sane man will be manifest only to his most intimate +companions; for he will contrive to give his moods a factitious backing +of reason, though this may perhaps deceive no close observer. But the +hysterical, and those who abandon self-government, will in the wildest +fashion give rein to every freak, quite forgetful of the company in +which they may be. We can, however, assign no accurate limits to +healthy variations. We can not say, At this point precisely sanity ends +and madness begins. There is no such boundary in Nature. The difference +between a particular disposition and insanity is but a question of more +or less. + +All our impressions, whether of the external world or of ourselves, are +conveyed to us by the sensory-nerves. The excitation of a sensory-nerve +terminal results in a sensation at the central end of the peripheral +nerve, in the brain. Hence the excitation is propagated to the cortex, +or outer part of the brain, where is the terminus of the sensory tract; +and here the sensation, brayed, as it were, with the residua of former +impressions, is converted into a perception. Every sensation that has +once been worked up into a perception is capable of being spontaneously +or voluntarily excited anew. The re-excitation or reminiscence of an +image which has so arisen, whether by a peripheral excitation, or +spontaneously, or voluntarily, brings along with it the recollection +of other images. Those connecting nerve fibres, by means of which +associated sensations are produced, are termed associational tracts. +The aggregate of a great multitude of reminiscential images belonging +to different organs of sense makes what we call a perceptual idea, or +percept (_Vorstellung_). For example, let the word _bell_ be mentioned. +What does it mean? It brings up the optical image of a certain cubic +curve, the form of the outline of the bell; it brings up the four +letters b e l l; it brings up the sound the instrument produces; and, +finally, it brings up the sonorous syllable which we are accustomed +to fancy resembles that sound. All these images (and mind, that in +psychology we speak of auditory, olfactory, and other reminiscences as +_images_) are recalled, and with them traces of other things associated +with bells--some merry sleighing-party of the hearer’s youth; his +wedding-day, perhaps; the dreadful summons of the people on some +occasion of a fire or of anticipated invasion; and, possibly, some +well-remembered funeral. All these things come welling up to us, like +the swelling of the sound produced by interferences. Language has no +word more vividly significant than _bell_, because the more memorial +images cluster about an idea, the clearer will it be, and the easier +reproduced, or, in other words, the more it clings to the memory. If +you have to remember a name you ask to have it written down, because +the auditory image will be more readily reproduced if once associated +with the visual image. + +The more intense and extraordinary an original impression of sense, the +more distinctly will it be reproduced. But after a while the reproduced +image loses its distinctive characters. It becomes vague, and in +that sense weaker. The remembered sound of the cannon of a distant +battlefield, though not perhaps less loud, is less distinguished from +other remembered sounds, unless, indeed, more recent experiences +refresh our memory. + +The period of time within which a memorial stimulus of given power can +excite a recollection of given definiteness varies through a wide range +with different individuals. Within the latitude of health there are +good and bad memories, and memories of different kinds. In pathological +cases, this action of the cortex may sink almost or quite to zero, or +be exaggerated surprisingly. + +As a multitude of impressions are worked together into an image, +and a multitude of images into a perceptual idea, so a complexus of +perceptual ideas has for its resultant a _thought_, wherein there +is a representation of the way events happen, in general, and of +the relation of our ego to the macrocosm. Such general conception +of the relation between the inner and outer world makes what the +psychologist means by self-consciousness--or, as it has been called, +the consciousness of consciousness, or superintending-consciousness +(_Oberbewusstsein_). + +The procedure of thought is perfected in an arrangement of ideas +in sequence. In the waking state there is a ceaseless flow of +percepts--that is, a continual thinking-process takes place in the +brain. Those percepts are occasionally excited by the peripheral +organs, or they are supplied by inward excitations following the tracts +of association. + +The sequence of percepts may be determined either involuntarily by +spontaneous associations and outward impressions, or by the active +exercise of attention. + +Stimuli from the peripheral organs of sense may be called _centripetal_ +actions, the operations of association _intra-central_, and the idea +due to the will _centrifugal_. The function of this centrifugal action +is to bring the ideas into a regular sequence by excluding unsuitable +centripetal percepts, and by strengthening some associations and +weakening others. In common speech we call this centrifugal action +_attention_. It fulfils one of the most important offices of the mind, +since without it thought could not be made purposive. + +The power of attention of a sane man has to be considerable, so that he +may hold his ideas in the right order for a long time without fatigue. +In idiots, on the other hand, it is occasionally so completely wanting +that they can not swerve the slow current of their ideas. Between these +two extremes every possible grade of this power is met with. Every +teacher of children knows that some of them concentrate their thoughts +with comparatively little difficulty, while others are at the mercy of +every little presentation in the room or out at the window, as well as +of their own recollections. + +The process of association may follow different principles. An idea +may melt into another inwardly allied to it. I hear a musical air, +for example. This sets all sorts of subconscious ideas relating +to music into motion toward the surface of consciousness. Some +circumstance or other, perhaps its recent prominence, gives a clear +outline, let us suppose, to the idea of the Magic Flute before the +others. Now, it is particularly ideas of operatic music whose gradual +movement toward emergence is accelerated. I find myself reviewing +several operas; or, if a number of such ideas emerge at once, a +general conception of operatic music is formed in my mind. Among +these pictures, perhaps one of a grand performance at La Scala may, +by its splendour, obliterate others. By this time my reminiscences +of oratorios, symphonies, chamber music, etc., are sinking back into +slumber, while pictures of various opera houses are crowding up to +the surface. Their multitude prevents my distinctly dwelling upon any +one. The resultant is a general idea of theatrical architecture. Now +memories of other magnificent pieces of architecture begin to take +places in the composite photograph of my imagination, and as, by the +operation of fatigue, the intense assertiveness of the ideas which have +been longer before my mind wanes, perhaps the resultant of those that +remain leaves me thinking of triumphal arches. This is an imaginary +example of a train of association governed chiefly by the principle +called _resemblance_--that is, by the intrinsic affinities of ideas. +Another principle is that called _contiguity_, where an idea, A, calls +up another, B, having no inward affinity for it, because the sequence +of B upon A has an analogy, or inward affinity, with the sequence +of _b_ upon _a_, where _b_ and _a_ are ideas which occurred at some +previous time, _b_ following after _a_. For example, I see a porringer, +let us say, which I remember to have used in my childhood. The whole +scene straightway completes itself in my imagination--the chamber, the +furniture, the nurse, appear before me. Thence my fancy is carried +forward to the day when that nurse was married from the house, and the +image of the man she married is called up. Then follows the picture +of a visit I subsequently made to see how the couple were prospering, +etc. These ideas follow one another because similar ideas did follow +one another upon a former presentation of them. The principles of +resemblance and contiguity may act in conjunction, as they do in the +minds of those who are continually chasing puns and rhymes. Here ideas +the most incongruous may be associated, because the former recalls by +contiguity a word or phrase which by resemblance calls forth another +word, which in its turn reproduces by contiguity the second idea. +We make use of this sort of association in mnemonic verses, such as +“Thirty days hath September,” etc. Countless systems of artificial +memory repose on the same principle; and so does the very natural +method of attending to a general rule observable among certain objects +for the sake of remembering the objects themselves. + +The rapidity with which the process of associative reproduction takes +place can be little varied by any effort of the will. It depends upon +the freshness or fatigue of the nervous system at the time. It differs, +too, with different individuals. Under pathological conditions it may +either sink to such a minimum that patients will themselves complain +of their vacuity of mind and mental retardation, or it may become an +abnormal rush of ideas. When the rapidity of the associative process +is slightly increased, the patient feels extremely well. He is in the +mood for brilliant performances, thoughts fly to him, his conversation +sparkles, he improvises, he impresses those about him as being a witty +and clever man. With a still greater rapidity of associative action +there is such a rush of ideas that they tumble over one another, lose +their logical relations, and end in a delirious whirl. + +We have thus far considered only cases in which every idea is excited +by a stimulus external or associational. We now come to a different +phenomenon. Almost every man knows what it is, while endeavouring +to think consecutively, suddenly to have an unwelcome image obtrude +itself; perhaps a musical air which he has of late heard too often +repeats itself in his brain without being led up to at all. We often +hear it said, “I can not get that accursed tune out of my head.” +Phenomena of this kind are to be explained by the tendency of some +part of the cortex which has been excessively excited to pass into +the active condition spontaneously. In quite an analogous way the +most complicated percepts may spring up spontaneously, breaking into +the normal current of thought. When an idea thus becomes a continual +hindrance to rational thought, we call it an imperative idea. It forms +a disease inflicting, as a rule, great torment and anguish upon the +patient, and leads to further complications. + +We have said that every sense-perception once experienced may be +reproduced without any new stimulus. Now, if, independently of any +associational process, a reminiscential image is excited spontaneously +with extraordinary strength, the vividness, or subjective intensity of +the idea, may be so heightened as to take on every characteristic of +actual perception. Let an excitation run over the path which leads +from the subcortical centre which is the seat of the primary sensation +to the cortical centre of perception, and whether it have a centrifugal +origin, or whether it be centripetally propagated, the result will +ordinarily be the same--namely, that we shall project the percept into +our idea of the outward world. We shall unhesitatingly accept the thing +we see or the language we hear as real external experiences, although +the whole may be nothing but hallucination. + +The relative intensity with which a given perception can be reproduced +by a given person depends on the intensity of the original excitation +and the degree of attention that had been originally bestowed upon +it. In different persons the intensity of reproductive power varies +exceedingly. It is low in some minds; while others, especially artists, +possess a very high degree of imagination. Some painters can at will +call up visual images which they proceed to copy upon their canvas +just as if they were painting from Nature; and a successful writer for +the orchestra will seem to hear the effect of a given combination of +instruments, so as to achieve with unerring certainty results that the +greatest theoretician could not rival. + +Muscular motions are of three kinds--the automatic, the reflex, and +the voluntary. Automatic motions, such as the beating of the heart and +ordinary respiration, are caused by the action of special centres; +and though they may be influenced by reflex, or even in some measure +by voluntary action, they act, nevertheless, independently. Reflex +motions originate in centres which do not, like the automatic centres, +produce any excitations, but only receive them from sensory nerves. +Examples are the contraction of the pupil of the eye under increased +illumination, and winking upon any touch of the eyelid. + +To bring about a voluntary motion, a centripetal impulse is ordinarily +requisite, to stimulate the psychomotor centre. Yet it is possible for +the excitation to arise within that centre. Every man has his peculiar +tricks, unless he has taken pains to conquer them. He pulls his beard, +or sniffs, or bites his mustache, or rubs his hands, or gives some +peculiar twitch, more or less annoying to his neighbours, unconsciously +to himself and without any outward stimulus, simply in consequence +of a chronically excited state of some centre. These excitations are +sometimes sufficient to produce large and co-ordinated motions for +which, in ordinary circumstances, the co-operation of the will would be +requisite. Many people can not sit long still without an uncontrollable +impulse to move about. They jump up from their work, take a turn or two +up and down the room, and then sit down to their work again. + +Such excitations as these may likewise be exaggerated to the point of +disease. In mania they are seen in their most extreme form. Patients +yell, rage, strike, and smash, without knowing what they are about. + +Among the most important symptoms of psychical maladies, often most +difficult to recognize, are delusions. The general public imagines that +delusions consist essentially in believing something that is utterly +absurd. Nothing could be more erroneous. A delusion may be in substance +quite true, while the sheerest nonsense may be produced in the mind +without any delusion. A person may fancy he has a living creature in +his body, and, though it may in fact be true that he has a tapeworm, +yet, if the opinion is not founded on any sound process of thought, it +certainly is none the less to be classed along with genuine delusions +because it accidentally happens to come true. + +Of three so-called “spiritualists,” let one be a simpleton who, +without any logical conviction, has been led--by sheer credulity, +or weak assent to energetic assertion--to admit the phenomena of +mediumship. Let the second be a learned man who has been imposed +upon by legerdemain, and who endeavours to explain what he thinks he +has seen in a scientific way; and let the third be one with whom the +belief is of the nature of an insane delusion. They all believe the +same thing; so that it can not be said that it is the nature of what +is believed that constitutes the insanity. It is rather the mode in +which the belief has come about, its relation to the other operations +of the mind, its mode of expression, its relation to the interests of +the believer, that must be relied upon to determine the alienist to +diagnose a true delusion. + +Anomalies of the propensities play a great part in the pathology of +the mind. Like the other symptoms of insanity, abnormal impulses are +but quantitative or qualitative modifications of healthy conditions. +Psychiatry has never discovered any new passion. The appetites vary +greatly in different individuals; and here again we must take care to +allow sufficient latitude to healthy variations. The feeling of hunger, +or the propensity to eat, may in the most diverse psychical disorders +be enormously exalted. This is called hyperorexia. It sometimes goes +so far that the patient tries to devour whatever he can lay hands +on. This is called sitomania. On the other hand, the propensity may +be distinctly lowered in intensity or even lost. This is called +anorexia. Of course, none of these states includes cases in which the +modification of the appetite is caused by derangements of the organs +of digestion. Finally, the desire for food may be directed to strange +substances, as often happens to pregnant women. In the insane this +perversion of appetite will sometimes be so great as to induce them to +eat straw, earth, worms, and even their own filth. + +We sometimes find the other propensities equally deranged. The sexual +impulse may be exalted to the highest degree--a state called satyriasis +in men, nymphomania in women. The sexual appetite may be depressed or +lost in total impotence. It may be perverted to one’s own sex or to +other things. + +I must apologize for this general description of the symptoms of +insanity, which does not directly concern the subject of this book. +I have entered upon it for the purpose of showing that, in order to +determine the state of mental sanity or insanity, it does not suffice +to produce certain extraordinary or absurd modes of behaviour or +temper; that we can hardly pronounce a man to be insane from any +conduct until we know what his motives are; and, finally, that we are +not to judge from a part of his mental actions, but must get a clear +notion of his whole mental condition. I have further endeavoured to +show that, as far as single symptoms go, no sharp line of demarcation +can be drawn between mental sanity and insanity. Just as there are +physically strong men and physically weak men, men of large bodies and +men of puny bodies, so within the limits of health there are mental +athletes and mental weaklings. Moreover, just as no two men are in +person counterparts the one of the other, so there are no two whose +characters are precisely alike. There are perfectly healthy men with +extraordinary physiognomies or peculiarities of bodily structure; and +in like manner unusual traits of character are to be met with. The +study of such men may be interesting to the psychologist, but it does +not directly concern the pathology of the mind. + + + + + THE PSYCHOLOGY OF GENIUS. + + +It is plain from the nature of psychology, as well as from its +history, that it has to contend with difficulties and perplexities of +a magnitude and character with which no other observational science +is perplexed. An immediate acquaintance with psychical conditions can +only be obtained by self-observation; so that this has always formed +the foundation of the scientific edifice. Nor can any generalization +of observation possibly be attained except by means of the concepts +derived from self-observation. This entails the great disadvantage that +there is wanting to psychology the objectivity of the observation, in +that the subject and object thereof are one person. This is yet further +increased by the impossibility of repeating any observation, so that in +psychology we lack almost entirely one of the most important aids of +natural sciences--namely, experiment. + +Our knowledge of the physiology of the human body has been so much +enriched by pathological facts that we may truly say that some branches +of it would, as far as we can see, have remained forever closed +books if the effects of disease had not been observed. So it is with +psychology, in its turn. Since mental disease has been systematically +studied the science of the mind has undergone a veritable revolution. +Psychology and psychiatry are to-day inseparably connected. Neither +could survive, were the bond between them severed. + +Psychology began by being largely speculative. It preserved this +character for quite a lengthy period. It has, in more modern times, +passed into paths essentially different, and stands to-day, side +by side with the other positive sciences, upon the solid ground of +critical observation. Partly, though only to a moderate extent, it has +entered upon experimental investigations. + +Every observational science, after having effected a preliminary rough +analysis of the ordinary facts, has fastened its scrutiny upon extreme +cases and apparent departures from the uniformities of the matter in +hand. From a study of these varieties and from a comparison of them +with ordinary cases, it brings forth fresh knowledge. Psychologists +are beginning to do this; and especially of late years much attention +has been bestowed upon those extraordinary powers which we ordinarily +indicate by the word genius. + +The results of these inquiries are thus far as diverse as possible, +and, just as in former scientific controversies, leading men assume +attitudes of almost flat contradiction. Let us see whether we can +not, with the investigations already at our command, attain a clearer +conception of the concept of genius. + +As the etymology of the word, which is derived from _genius_ or +_ingenium_, directly indicates, the ancients believed, according to +their view of the world, that within persons of eminence--those men who +guided the destinies of nations or were able to accomplish phenomenal +deeds in the domains of art or science--a divine spirit dwelt. A +_genius_, for example, spoke to the people through the mediumship of +the Pythian priestess; a divine spirit opened to Socrates the fountains +of knowledge and science, and inspired Homer with divine song, +enabling him to perceive the world as a magnificent fulness of ideals +and beauties. It conducted Miltiades through the tumult of battle to +glorious victory and smoothed for Plato the path to eternal wisdom. + +This idealistic method of viewing things has been transmitted from +century to century down to our own time. In the saints of the Middle +Ages we see the idea of the Holy Ghost corporealized. By the mouths +of priests and prophets “God” speaks to the people. Rulers are +invested with “divine right.” They rule by the “divine will.” The +powerful thinkers who guide the world by great discoveries are filled +with “divine grace.” In those who by their art embellish the world +there shone a “divine spark,” a fragment of the Holy Ghost. By their +mouths God spoke to men. Genius was eternal and incomprehensible. Its +knowledge and power were infinite. + +Modern science has applied the dissecting knife to this fantastic +web of speculative philosophy, has analyzed the whole matter into +its elementary constituents, stripped the natural phenomena of their +habiliments of superstition and mysticism, and, while thus destroying +many a beloved ideal, acts in the consciousness that it is struggling +after real knowledge and truth. + +Psychology, having by self-observation laid down a series of +conceptions, and having attained the knowledge that psychical +processes, like all other phenomena of Nature, are subject to definite +law, made an effort to determine the laws of the mental processes of +genius, and to frame a definition of genius, which should take into +account facts which are now scientifically established. + +But these efforts are characterized by the same mighty error and the +same important defect that has ere this provoked many a battle between +scientific men. In vain had philosophers for several ages endeavoured +to say in what genius consisted, until in these latter times some +authors believe they have discovered the philosopher’s stone and have +pronounced genius to be a variety of insanity. Unfortunately, they were +not themselves clear about the definition of genius nor, perhaps, about +that of insanity. + +An accurate science ought to provide names only for known phenomena. +It might view a complex of phenomena as one object, and apply to it a +collective name. Having done so, it can again perform specification +within the limits of the _genus_. But science shall always go wrong and +shall exercise itself about phantoms, if it accepts _a priori_ some +word or other as something laid down, so to speak, independently, and +then tries to call forth from the phenomena sufficient material whereby +to explain a notion somehow made inherent in this word. + +To so plain a truth one might hesitate to refer. And yet how often +has science sinned against it! Innumerable tomes, for example, have +been written on the inquiry of whether the human will is _free_ or +determined. Quarrels, bitter to the point of persecution, have been +indulged in by high authorities upon this question. Finally, it has +been proved to be merely a contest about “words,” for each individual +combined with the word “will” some different notion regarding which +he himself never for an instant was clear. Nowhere is this error of +science better expressed than in the words of Goethe: + + _Student._ But every word must have some sense exact. + + _Mephistopheles._ Of course; but let not that your mind distract; + For oft to fill the meaning’s awkward blank, + A serviceable word we have to thank. + With words we gloriously may dispute, + With words a system constitute; + Words will suffice for faith unshaken, + For from the Word shall jot nor tittle e’er be taken. + +Many authors make any person endowed with specially excellent mental +powers a genius. Thus Sulzer, in his dictionary,[2] says: “Genius +seems to be ascribed to any man who, in departments for which he +shows a natural turn, displays remarkable skill and a more copious +fertility of mind than other men.... Genius seems at bottom to be +nothing but great general power of mind; so that ‘a great mind’ and +‘a man of genius’ are synonymous terms.” Du Bos[3] defines genius +as “the natural skill by which a man is enabled to perform certain +things well and easily that other men, whatever pains they may take, +can only do ill.” Riedel,[4] Feder,[5] Baumgarten,[6] and others +express themselves to the same effect. Herder[7] says: “Everybody +knows that genius is nothing but the intensive or extensive quantity +of psychical power exerted.” A struggling sort of definition, +conceived in the same strain, is thus formulated by Flögel:[8] “Genius +is unquestionably an attribute of the faculty of cognition, for no +inclination for an art or a science will induce us to say of the +man that feels it that he has genius.” This marvellous utterance is +rendered somewhat more intelligible by the definition of the cognitive +faculty that immediately follows it: “The faculty of cognition is +a tree with many branches. Attention, memory, abstraction, wit, +discrimination, understanding, and reason, by whatever names they may +be called, belong to cognition. Experience shows that these different +branches or parts are not all equally developed, but that one may +in a given man preponderate over another. One man has more wit than +discrimination; another has good sense but a poor memory; a third has +a solid understanding but a deficiency of imagination. Thus, there +is a certain degree of repugnancy between a man’s different cognitive +powers; and it is their proportion which constitutes a man’s genius in +its widest sense. In this sense every man has his genius.” He continues +thus: “We are accustomed to deny genius to numberless men. We deny it +to learned men who have written libraries; and it would be equally +out of place to speak of an author as a genius who had only written a +few pages in which a moderate enthusiasm was displayed. We associate +the term genius with something great, something superior in its way. +Whatever capacity in a man seems great, pre-eminent, of singular force, +distinguishing him from average brains, is called genius, without +qualification. If this superiority belongs to all he does, we say the +man has universal genius; if it is confined to certain directions, we +call it special or peculiar genius.” Wieland[9] divides genius into +three kinds: the genius of pleasing, which operates within the domain +of the graces and consists in a special facility for carrying out the +ideas it prosecutes; philosophical genius, which consists in a capacity +for discovering those truths resulting from correct conceptions which +concern the felicity of mankind; and practical genius, which consists +in a ready activity in availing itself of known facts and in producing +the highest and most prompt resolutions. But there is no psychological +foundation for this arbitrary division of the phenomena. Here, again, +it is the mere greatness and pre-eminence of the achievements, without +reference to their psychical origin, which is made to constitute the +essence of genius. H. Joly[10] says that genius is “creative power, +using this term in the relative sense in which alone it is permissible +to apply it. It is the production of something which the combined +efforts of other men have hitherto been powerless to effect. It is that +which puts at the disposition of humanity either means of expression, +or means of talent and invention, or means of new action, which add +something to the common intelligence and common power.” + +The conception of genius of all these authors is even in conflict +with that of ordinary language, for which genius and talent are +qualitatively different. If those authors are right, genius and talent +are merely different degrees of the same quality. However this may +be, according to the above definition, the word genius has, generally +speaking, not much value as a psychological term. + +The inadequacy of such a view to meet the popular notion being +recognised, efforts have been made to find something specially +characteristic of genius. A great many philosophers have taken +originality to be such a characteristic. Weise[11] says: “All writers +upon genius agree that invention is its essential mark.” Many authors +seem quite to forget that the point is to establish a psychological +conception, proceeding rather as if they had to accord a title or order +for some special service. Thus Alexander Gerard[12] adopts the view +that everybody who makes an invention, whether valuable or useless, +and everybody who has an original idea of any description, must be +a genius. According to this, any fool who gives birth to original +absurdities must be reckoned as a genius. In conflict with those +passages is the subsequent remark of the same author, that “invention +is the capacity of producing new beauties in works of art and new +truths in matters of science.” Apart from the arbitrary character of +this definition of the word “invention,” it is in distinct conflict +with the above extract, which does not harmonize with such a definition. + +Many authors express substantially the same opinion. Flögel,[13] for +example, says: “Down to Newton the colorific effects of prisms had +probably been looked upon as a pretty amusement for children, unworthy +the attention of philosophers; but that great mind founded upon these +phenomena that acute theory of colours which by itself would have +sufficed to win for him the title of genius had he been great (?) in +nothing else.” The author talks as if genius were a rank like that of +major or privy counsellor. Kant,[14] too, quotes with approval the +definition of genius as the “exemplary originality of a man’s talent.” +Hagen[15] says: “Originality, therefore, constitutes genius.... To me, +accordingly, genius is the synonym of mind, but with the implication +that the mental idiosyncrasy of the super-eminent individual is +intended.... Now, in so far as every man has a mental individuality, +he has a mind distinct from every other and is an original thinker. He +has a mind of his own.... By genius, in the narrow and ordinary sense, +we mean a mind of the first order endowed with a high originality of +conception, of discovery, and of creative impulse.” + +This conception of genius may, perhaps, accord better with common +language than the previous one. At any rate, it furnishes the requisite +qualitative distinction between genius and talent. Our present study, +however, is not ordinary language. We are inquiring whether this +definition creates a precise psychological concept of scientific value. +Now, the concept of originality has nothing to do with psychical +characteristics; it refers exclusively to outward facts. Originality +may be produced by the most diverse psychical processes; and the +same dispositions of mind may in one case lead to originality and in +another not; since this is in no small measure an accident of the +outward situation. A child is original at the period when its mind is +awakening, when the more complex ideas of the world have not yet been +apprehended, but primitive images are in his artless fashion fused +together. That is why the speeches of children so often seem witty +and excite smiles on the faces of the grown people who hear them. +When we say a man is an “original” we often mean to imply that he is +weak-minded and deficient in perception, not clearly understanding +situations, and all his life long a foreigner to the world. So are +those conceited fools original who, because their behaviour and +propensities depart widely from commonsense, live in perpetual +astonishment at their own genius. For example, the author of a recent +book, intended to convince society that clothes should be discarded +and men and women should go naked, was a genius, according to Gerard’s +definition. A man publishes far and wide that he can cure all the ills +that flesh is heir to by simply making people walk about barefoot over +wet meadows. What a genius! And the prophet’s success, too, as regards +the main chance, shows that the multitude honor him as a genius. + +As we have seen, it has not taken long to learn that originality +does not _per se_ constitute genius. Hence common consent has agreed +more accurately to define and limit the “originality of genius.” But +in doing this, merely the outward phenomenon is treated; and in the +most favorable circumstances some symptom only comes to be considered, +instead of the causes and source of the fact being reached. To +originality is added the further condition that “beauties” and “truths” +(as Gerard said) must be produced to entitle it to the name of genius. +So Weise[16] says: “Genius is the immediate attraction of an individual +in the harmonious concurrence of his mental and physical powers to the +production of an ideal and typical work of intellect.” Many authors +require that genius shall be “epoch-making,” that its achievements +shall be “agreeable” or “useful,” etc. Gerard demands that artistic +genius shall “please” and shall “gratify the taste”: “Objects and +circumstances unfit to please, either do not at all occur to the artist +or, being perceived at a glance to be unfit, are immediately rejected.” +Dr. Blair says in his Lectures on Rhetoric (written about 1760), +Lecture III: + +“Genius always imports something inventive or creative, which does not +rest in mere sensibility to beauty where it is perceived, but which +can, moreover, produce new beauties, and exhibit them in such a manner +as strongly to impress the minds of others.” + +Thus, instead of returning to psychical causes, in such attempts to +particularize the conditions, authors depart further and further from +those causes, and dwell more and more upon the invention of others. Is +there anything “beautiful” or “good” _per se_? Do these words express +anything but a conformity to the ideas that are in fashion, but which +at different periods vary monstrously? Is taste anything more than a +personal preference? If the term genius is to be made contingent upon +such wavering standards and the variable feelings of others, it must +follow that many an individual will at certain periods of history be +pronounced a genius to whom other generations will deny the epithet. +So genius will lose all meaning as a psychological term; for if it +is to be any character of the mind, the conception of it must be +constructed and defined from within, and not be dependent upon outward +circumstances. + +Upon such outward circumstances originality is in part essentially +dependent. Many great and useful discoveries and inventions have +been due to accident solely. Many investigators have by a happy +concatenation of circumstances been led into a line of study which +has brought them to discoveries which have remained hidden from much +higher minds. When the microscope was first discovered it was only +necessary to apply it to any tissue of living matter to make great and +important discoveries. So, too, as a matter of fact, a large number +of discoveries are ascribed to persons who, under conditions other +than those under which they were made, might perhaps in no way have +particularly distinguished themselves. The possibility of originality +is in many branches of art narrowly limited; and the chance of being +original depends very much upon how far precursors have exhausted the +department. In practical music we speak of a “brilliant rendering” +(_geniale Auffassung_). Now, I ask whether a musician who executes +a sonata of Beethoven according to his conception of it, is less a +genius because others before him have had the same idea of it. Or is +a musician a genius because, in his desire to be original and to be +applauded as a genius, he does not reproduce the work of the composer, +but rather a parody upon it? Often enough this is actually done +nowadays. + +Those inquirers who have sought to penetrate to the psychological laws +of genius, and have sought to explain its phenomena upon recognised +psychological principles, have been obliged at last to acknowledge +that they had to do with the most diverse psychical conditions, which +have been promiscuously labelled as genius. Even Gerard, in his +psychological analysis, found himself at last compelled to recognise +two essentially different varieties of genius--“genius for science” and +“genius for the arts.”[17] But he shows very plainly the error into +which he had fallen. Instead of recognising that these two classes +refer to utterly unlike psychical conditions, he again resorts to +external circumstances to explain their difference, saying: “Some +difference between genius for science and genius for the arts arises +necessarily from the very diversity of their ends.”[18] This is +obviously putting the cart before the horse. He ought rather to say, +“The diversity of their ends arises from different sources--genius for +science and genius for the arts.” + +Helvetius[19] likewise comes to the conclusion that different kinds +of genius differ psychologically. “Few men have perceived that these +metaphors (fire, inspiration, etc.), applicable to certain kinds of +genius, such as that for poetry and for eloquence, are not at all so to +the genius for reflection, such as that of Locke and Newton.” But, in +spite of his quite correct view that the psychical conditions requisite +for a man of science and a poet are utterly different, he nevertheless +endeavours to frame a definition which shall include both these +dissimilar cases.[20] Instead, therefore, of accounting for phenomena +in scientific concepts, he avails himself of a loose usage of speech +as the guide of his inquiries, and so comes to the conclusion that +“invention” and the “making of an epoch” are the kernel of all genius. + +Radestock,[21] to mention one more among many, expresses a similar +opinion: “And yet there are certain characteristics common to all +genius--to wit, originality and the height of creative power. Different +kinds of genius are only distinguished in a secondary manner by their +objects and the spheres within which they are exercised.” Here is the +same inversion of cause and effect as in Gerard. + +Investigation having made it clear that common language throws together +under the one head of genius elements the most heterogeneous, science +reaches this parting of the ways--either to discard the concept +entirely as scientifically useless, or to limit it to one definitely +describable combination of psychological conditions. + +Kant and Schopenhauer, recognising this fact, restricted genius to art. +Schopenhauer[22] showed that totally different psychical conditions +would make an artist on the one hand, and a man of learning on the +other; so that it was not admissible to call them both by the same +name. Here is one of his remarks: “The work of genius has always been +regarded as an inspiration, as the word itself implies, as the work +of a superhuman being different from the person and only periodically +taking possession of him. Experience shows, too, that the greatest +artistic geniuses have no capacity for mathematics. There never lived +a man distinguished in both particulars. Alfieri relates that he never +could advance beyond the fourth proposition of Euclid. Goethe has +been reproached enough with his lack of mathematical knowledge. Thus, +also, is explained the notorious want of artistic sensibility in all +distinguished mathematicians. A great French mathematician, on hearing +the Iphigénie of Racine, exclaimed, ‘What does that prove?’ Great +genius is seldom combined with predominance of reason; on the contrary, +men of genius are particularly subject to overpowering sentiments and +irrational passions.” + +It must be confessed that the limitation of genius to artistic power +has met with general disapprobation among the later authors who have +written upon the subject. Jürgen Bona Meyer[23] assures us that there +is such a thing as scientific genius; and so do other authors who +have not reconciled themselves to this limitation of the common mode +of speech. Since Kant and Schopenhauer, people continue to attribute +genius to scientists, just as they did before. + +Thus the question whether the popular word genius can be used as +a scientific term can only be decided by a psychological analysis +of those poets, composers, painters, virtuosos, actors, scholars, +statesmen, and generals who have generally been reckoned as geniuses. +That analysis performed, comparison will show whether they have any +common characteristic, such as justifies us in comprehending such +persons under one psychological concept. + +Famous poets, observant of their own inward conditions, have often said +that their works were composed as in a dream, unknown to themselves; +that, instead of being deliberately constructed, their ideas have, as +it were, flown to them. + +Goethe says: “There is a sense in which it is true that poets, and +indeed all true artists, must be born, not made. Namely, there must +be an inward productive power to bring the images that linger in the +organs, in the memory, in the imagination, freely, without purpose or +will, to life. The ideas must unfold themselves, grow, extend, and +accumulate in order to become no longer fugitive diagrams, but living +pictures.” + +Voltaire, on seeing one of his tragedies performed, exclaimed: “Was it +really I who wrote that?” Lamartine said: “It is not I who think, but +my ideas which think for me.” Of Werther, Goethe said: “Having written +this little book somewhat unconsciously, like a sleepwalker, I could +not help wondering, in lately reading it over, whether I should find +anything in it to alter and improve.” + +Schiller writes to Körner: “It is not well in works of creation that +reason should too closely challenge the ideas that come thronging to +the doors. Taken by itself, an idea may be highly unsuitable, even +venturesome, and yet in conjunction with others, themselves equally +absurd alone, it may furnish a suitable link in the chain of thought. +Reason can not see this unless it carefully considers the idea in its +connections. In a creative brain reason has withdrawn her watch at the +doors, and ideas crowd in pell-mell.” + +Bettinelli says: “The happy moment for the poet may be called a +dream--dreamed in the presence of the intellect, which stands by and +gazes with open eyes at the performance.” + +“Schiller,” says Vischer, in his treatise upon Esthetics,[24] +“annotating a passage in Schelling, energetically requires that the +poet should begin his work unconsciously, and says that he ought +to consider himself fortunate if, after a consecutive and distinct +consideration of what he is about, he does not find himself set back, +or if he finds his finished work as good as the obscure but powerful +impression from which he set out. Schiller himself, who fluttered +midway between thought and intuition, complains that theory and +criticism quench his ardour, and that when he sees himself at work +creating and constructing, his imagination is embarrassed, and does not +perform with the same freedom as it had done when nobody was looking +over its shoulder.” + +Jean Paul Richter had, perhaps, the above passage of Goethe in his mind +when he wrote:[25] “Genius is, in more senses than one, a sleepwalker, +and in its bright dream can accomplish what one who woke could never +do. It mounts every height of reality in the dark; but bring it out +of its world of dreams, and it stumbles.” The last clause contains +an observation that Goethe also had made upon himself and which he +describes as follows: “It had happened to me so often that I would +repeat a song to myself and then be unable to recollect it; that +sometimes I would run to my desk and, without taking time to lay my +paper straight, would, without stirring from my place, write out the +poem from beginning to end, slopingly. For the same reason I always +preferred to write with a pencil, on account of its marking so readily. +On several occasions, indeed, the scratching and spluttering of my pen +awoke me from my somnambulistic poetizing and distracted me so that it +suffocated a little product in its birth. I had a particular reverence +for such pieces, like a hen for her brood of chickens pipping around +her.” + +Klopstock says himself that he got many of the ideas of his Messiah in +dreams. + +Voltaire wrote to Diderot:[26] “It must be confessed that in the arts +of genius instinct is everything. Corneille composed the scene between +Horatius and Curiatius just as a bird builds its nest, except that the +bird always builds well, while with us poor feeble little creatures +that is not the case.” + +Upon what does this instinctive creating, this unconscious poetizing, +this spontaneous emerging of thought, that we meet with in so many +great poets, depend? + +In our first chapter we recognised two different kinds of processes +of thought--voluntary thinking, in which the sequence of ideas is +determined by the will, and involuntary thinking, which takes place +in a purely associative way. This last we may term _fancy_. The two +processes have, in truth, no sharp delimitation. We may conceive the +process of thought to be an action of fancy with varying activity of +the will, from the weakest to the strongest grade. So Wundt[27] speaks +of an active and a passive fancy. “Our fancy,” says he, “is passive +when we allow the play of ideas to go as it will, beginning with any +complete idea. It is active when our will sifts out the ideas that +are produced, and thus purposively brings about a new whole.” In the +present work we shall use the word _fancy_ without qualification to +denote a passive involuntary train of ideas; while a purposive sequence +of ideas, or voluntary thought, shall be termed _intellectual function_ +(_Verstandesthätigkeit_). + +Involuntary thought is frequently described by the poets as +unconscious. That can not be accurate, for “unconscious thought” is a +contradictory phrase. Not even a dream can be said to be unconscious, +whether it be purely ideal, like most dreams, or produce action, as in +sleepwalking. In such a state self-consciousness alone is suspended, +not consciousness itself. It is true that § 51 of the German criminal +code pronounces actions performed unconsciously to be unpunishable; +but that is psychologically incorrect. A person is unconscious in a +deep swoon or occasionally in a stupor. But actions are never performed +without being connected with ideas; this it is that distinguishes +them from automatic and reflex motions. Now, ideas form a part of +consciousness. Ideas without consciousness are therefore inconceivable. +The paragraph of the criminal code ought to read: “Actions performed +while self-consciousness is suspended shall not be punished.” So +when a poet tells us he has composed verses while in a state of +unconsciousness or as in a dream, similar considerations show how we +are to understand his language. + +Fancy stands half-way between dreaming and active intellectual +function. The latter depends directly on the will, while in the former +the will is in total abeyance. Purposive thought is like a ship with +a strong rudder which follows every turning and winding and can be +carried through the narrowest straits. A dream is a rudderless hulk +wandering hither and thither, the play of the winds and waves. Fancy is +a ship which, with its sails set, wends its way over the deep, moving +like a ghost with no visible impulse, yet directed toward its destined +port. The will takes part in fancy, but behaves more passively than +actively. It removes all hindrances which might confuse the thoughts +and prevent ideas from forming a harmonious whole. + +All men exercise the above-described action of fancy. In ordinary +men it makes daydreams, which everybody recognises to be opposed +to purposive thought. All that fancy produces depends on former +impressions of sense. It is powerless to create anything new; its +products are mere combinations in memory of the residua of former +impressions. They may be unlikely enough, and in that sense it may be +true that its products are “original.” But this does not conflict with +the facts alleged. + +As in a kaleidoscope a relatively small number of bits of broken glass +can enter into most manifold combinations and produce the most diverse +images, so the residua of former impressions of sense can, by means +of fancy, combine into the most variegated mixture of original ideas. +If a kaleidoscope contains only a small number of morsels of glass of +tolerably large size, the images will be relatively monotonous and +small in variety; but if it contains smaller and more numerous pieces +of glass, the images will be more manifold and more variegated. In an +analogous way, a rich fancy, as we call it, is able to dissect the +sense-impressions that are received into their smallest constituents, +and to fuse them together into infinitely numerous new shapes. If +this faculty is combined with a great facility of association and +imagination, it will result in that lively and creative action of fancy +which we find in the poet. + +The daydreams of ordinary men are mostly uninteresting. But in +a man with a cultivated and refined fancy, daydreams will bring +those creative thoughts of genius, in which fancy reveals itself _a +posteriori_ to his knowledge. Hence it is that he seems to himself to +have created his ideas unawares. He seems, like an objective spectator, +to see the poem spring up within him. + +This state of fancy, which depends upon an ordinary psychical process, +not qualitatively different from the mental process of common men, but +only differing quantitatively, is that which gave rise to mystical +explanations and to the belief in supernatural processes. Kant +remarks: “The reason why exemplary originality of talent receives +that mystical title is that the subject of it can not himself explain +its eruptions, or that he finds himself in possession of an art +which he could not have learned and which he can not comprehend. For +invisibility (the cause of an effect) is an attribute of the mind (a +genius with which the gifted person is endowed from his birth) whose +inspiration, as it were, he only follows.” So Vischer says: “We apply +to it the name of inspiration, an expression recalling a mystical +idea, the flow of which only begins here to grow into a river in its +further advance. The ancients, for whom the unknown upon the limits of +self-knowledge appeared so strange as to be the work of God, thought +it was really inspiration. The poet is inflated with the Muse, he is +ἔνθεος, θεόπνευστος, κατεχόμενος, ἐκστατικός, he is snatched away by +the goddess ὑπὸ θείης ἐξαλλαγῆς, out of himself, ἔξω ἑαυτοῦ, he is +breathed upon, ἐπίπνοια.” + +It is this creative and somewhat independent power of fancy which lends +to the work of art its character of originality; and hence it is that +many inquirers have found in that the essence of genius. + +Garve[28] expresses himself emphatically upon this point. “Nothing,” +he says, “is harder to ascertain than the peculiarity of a particular +mind, especially of a great mind, and most of all of a genius. All +perfections of the mind consist in certain perfections of thoughts; +or, rather, we only know as many differences and superiorities of +capacities and powers as we find of differences and grades of eminence +in the ideas. There is hardly any way to describe the character of a +capacity except by describing the origin and mode of formation of the +thoughts which are peculiar to that faculty. This can only be done in +so far as these thoughts follow other thoughts--i. e., are reflections +and after-thoughts. But when they seem to spring immediately out of +the power of the soul, when the higher or previous suggesting thoughts +are not to be found even by the man who had the idea in question, +our inquiry comes to an end, as inquiries always do when, in place +of tracing one effect from another, we are brought up to the actual +force. Now, thoughts of that kind are precisely such as are ascribed to +genius, a word signifying the source of those ideas which have not been +gradually elaborated, but have sprung up in a night from the soil of +the soul.” + +Jürgen Bona Meyer says: “Talent, being self-conscious, knows the why +and wherefore of its conclusions and principles. But for genius all +that is in darkness. Nothing is more unconscious and involuntary than +the process of thought of genius.” + +Although, as we shall soon see, this creative fancy is not sufficient +by itself to produce a poetic genius, and, as we shall at the same +time see, the degree of its development is not always proportional to +the greatness of the poet, yet it must be granted that the action of +fancy is an indispensable psychical ingredient of every poet. We are +confirmed in this opinion by the fact that those poets who only possess +it in small or inconsiderable amounts themselves lament the want of +it as a misfortune. When Lessing confesses there is no living spring +within him which wells up fresh, rich, and pure, but that everything +has to be pumped up with straining and groaning, he simply denies his +own possession of the proper organ of poesy. Schiller complained that +theory and criticism had damaged the free play of his fancy. When +Wieland had once reproached him with want of facility he wrote: “While +I am at work I feel only too keenly that he is right; yet I feel, too, +where the fault lies, and I hope that I shall be able to improve very +much in that respect. Ideas do not flow richly enough to me, however +luxuriant my works turn out; and until I write them down my ideas are +not clear.” + +Here, then, is a very important mental difference between poets of +high rank. While in Goethe the mainstay of his artistic power was +the free play of fancy, with Schiller the turning point was a power +of intellectual function which, in his own words, often choked the +luxuriance of his fancy. + +From this fact we can draw the corollary that however indispensable +to a poet fancy may be, it is not a synonym of poetic greatness; for +Schiller is undeniably a greater poet than many another whose fancy is +under no such intellectual inhibition. + +The psychological analysis of famous poets will show that the +intellectual function is no whit less important a factor of poetic +genius than fancy itself, although the latter is the one immediately +employed in the act of composition. We have seen that creative +fancy works with the material which former impressions of sense have +left behind as their remains or residua. The more comprehensive the +knowledge of the poet, therefore, and the more he is in condition to +assimilate and compact the impressions the world conveys to him, and +the sounder and truer his judgments of persons and situations, and the +more methodical his thought and the better his memory, by so much the +more will his fancy display luxuriance, and by so much more various +will be his creations. + +Lessing[29] falls into error when he says: “It is permitted to genius +not to know a thousand things that every schoolboy knows; for it is not +the provision with which his memory is stored, but what he can bring +forth out of his own feeling, that constitutes his wealth.” On the +contrary, the really great poet is usually marked by solid erudition +and thorough comprehension of the world. Of course, there are fools +enough who fancy they need learn nothing, that their genius has only +to walk forth naked in its own stately form, and that erudition would +be but a detriment to its creativeness. But these are unfortunates, of +whom we shall treat in another chapter of this book. Goethe hit them +off in the following epigram: + + Says Zigzag, in his latest book, + “Within no school have I a nook; + From living wight no thoughts I’ve took; + Still less to dead men do I look.” + He means, unless I’ve much mistook, + “I’m just a crank on my own hook.”[30] + +Kant, too, says that genius must undergo the “constraint of the school” +(_Zwang des Studiums_). “To free imagination from this constraint and +to allow one’s peculiar talent to rove about in wild disorder, contrary +to the laws of Nature, might betoken, perhaps, a great original +madness.” + +Goethe very clearly pictures the sources from which his own rich fancy +drew the materials of its creations. “The greatest genius would be +worthless without external aids. For what, after all, is genius but +the capacity to seize every opportunity, to make use of everything +that falls in our way, to impart form and life to whatever matter may +be put within its reach, to take here marble, there earth, and out of +them to build a lasting monument? Where, for example, should I be, or +what would be left of me, if that sort of appropriation should cast +a prejudice upon genius? What have I done? I have gathered and used +whatever I have seen, heard, or observed. I have laid claim to the +works of Nature and of man. To every one of my writings a thousand +persons and a thousand different things have contributed. Old and +young, gentle and simple, wise and foolish have brought their quotas. +Mostly without being aware of it, they have bestowed upon me their +thoughts, their faculties, and their experiences, sowing the grain that +I have reaped. My work is an assemblage of essences which have been +derived from the course of Nature. This bears the name of ‘Goethe.’... +Foolish men! They remind me of a certain philosopher of my part of the +country who fancied that if he were to imprison himself in his study +for thirty years, and there sift and beat out the ideas which he would +draw from his own poor brain, he would obtain a wonderful mine of +originality! What came of it, think ye? Clouds, and only clouds!... I +was long enough so silly as to grieve over these absurdities; but now +in my old age I may be permitted to make merry over them and laugh at +them.”[31] + +Another psychical phenomenon, besides fancy and intellectual function, +surprises us in famous poets--to wit: a refinement of the feelings, +heart, and moods. We often find these qualities developed in great +poets to a point we can scarcely imagine. The mere contemplation of a +work of art may move them to tears. In Heine, music produced a peculiar +mood which excited him to versification. Alfieri described his mood +while writing poetry as a sort of soft fever. When Goethe read in +Schiller’s family for the first time the scene between Hermann and his +mother under the pear tree, in Hermann und Dorothea, he burst into +tears, saying, as he dried his eyes, “One melts over one’s own fire.” + +Schiller wrote to Goethe: “At first my sensations have no definite +object; that is formed later. First comes a certain musical sensation, +and after that, follows the poetical idea.” + +What is described here is, as fancy, not a new, independent, or +mystical condition, peculiar to certain individuals, but is merely +a refinement of a certain part of the psychical organism, and +consequently a mere alteration of intensity of a phenomenon observable +in all men. + +Our whole mental action, the train of ideas, voluntary or involuntary, +is accompanied with a certain state of temper, best termed a _mood_ +(_Stimmung_), to which I have referred in the first chapter. As we +are not ordinarily conscious of any feelings produced by our internal +organs, so, in spite of their continuous presence, we are not commonly +aware of our moods. We recognise them only as they vary. Different +authors are at variance in regard to the connection between our moods +and our ideas. Some will have the moods dependent upon the ideas, +while others make the content of the ideas follow the mood of the +moment. My own opinion is that neither rule can be maintained, but that +moods and ideas react upon one another, at one time a mood taking the +lead, at another an idea. When sad news is received, a gloomy mood is +plainly a consequence of the ideas; yet it is not to be denied that we +have many ups and downs of mood for which no differences of ideas can +account. Such moods are called _humours_. + +It is well known that the multitude of qualitative differences of +sense-perceptions exceeds every finite number. Not only can we perceive +differences in the intensity of lights, but we can distinguish the most +manifold shades of colour. Sounds differ not merely in intensity and +in pitch, but also in the quality of tone. We not only hear upon what +instrument a given note is sounded, but a connoisseur can tell upon +what string of a violin it is drawn. Hence we recognise the voice of +one acquaintance among hundreds. + +The quality of a sensation can not be described in words. No doubt, we +have names for the coarsest distinctions; but even these have a value +only when they are brought into connection with previous impressions. +A person blind from birth can in no way whatever get any idea of a +distinction of colour. Nor can a deaf-mute get the most distant notion +of the differences of qualities of sounds. + +In strict analogy with sense-perception, the fundamentally different +qualities of moods are likewise too multitudinous to be enumerated. +Neither can they be described in words. We have names for certain +states, and these names may suggest previous experiences of our states +of mind. Compunction, pity, desire, worry, hope, fear, though they have +names, are sensations and moods that no descriptions can paint. If a +person had never felt pity in his life, you could in no way give him an +idea of that mood. + +Persons whose psychical organism is highly refined in this respect +will have qualities of moods that there are no words to express. Just +as the musically gifted can distinguish timbres that ordinary people +can not, so those persons have mood-feelings for which the average +man is incapable, and for which common language has no designations. +Alfieri’s “soft fever” and Schiller’s “a certain musical mood of the +heart” are obviously attempts to convey some notion of such refined +mood-feelings. + +Another trait remarkable in famous poets is an instinctive and +invincible impulse to express the ideas and feelings within them. In +consequence of this impulse the work of genius is not a voluntary +labour, but the involuntary product of a psychical need. It is not +a hankering after applause and success, nor a regard for his other +interests, which induces the man of genius to perform his task. It is +solely a passion to give shape and form to the idea that exists in his +fancy. The true poet does not versify because he would, but because he +must. Goethe has painted the poetic impulse in Tasso: + + _Alfonso._ I beg of thee to break this habit up! + The poet’s loss will be the man’s success. + + _Tasso._ I’ve struggled day and night against this need; + I’m worn out trying to shut up my breast. + ’Tis useless! Sing I must; else life’s not life. + Prohibit the poor silkworm’s industry + On pain of death, yet still he’ll keep right on + Drawing the costly web from his entrails, + Nor cease until his golden cerecloth’s wove.--Act V, scene 2. + +This impulse of the poet of genius is again merely an exaggerated case +of a purely physiological phenomenon found in all men. In every man +strong emotions and powerful motions of the heart exercise a great +influence upon his whole mental conduct. But the effects of emotions +are not limited to the mind. They are centrifugally communicated to +the other organs. They have spasmodic and paralytic effects upon the +blood vessels, which are shown by blanching and blushing, cold down +the back (shivers and gooseflesh), etc. The beating of the heart may +be increased to the highest point or may be completely suspended. +Glandular secretions, sweat, and tears are influenced by moods. The +emotions are alleviated by such processes. The mood becomes calmer, +the whole state of mind more agreeable. A decided relief is brought +to great mental pain by tears, and a person may even speak of having +“a good cry.” Anger is softened by “having it out,” be it even on a +lifeless thing. Hysterical subjects and children strike or kick the +object against which they may have struck. Cheerful emotions also seek +“vent.” A comical emotion sets the laughing muscles in motion, and this +is followed by a calmer mood. + +The impulse to give expression to emotions and moods is not only shown +in such reflex ways, but also in an intense desire for communication +to other persons. The consequence of “telling all about it” is a +measurable unburdening or relaxation which produces satisfaction. Thus, +all men have a natural impulse to communicate their inward feelings and +sensations. The suppression of it involves a tension, a heightening +of the emotion, and a general uneasiness. A pain which circumstances +forbid us to disclose, especially where tears have to be suppressed, is +felt more intensely. Suppressed anger “gnaws the vitals” all the worse. +The suppression of laughter is very uncomfortable, and for some persons +quite impossible. Everybody knows how hard it is for women (shall we +add for men?) to keep a secret. + +When a woman has a piece of news, she “burns” to repeat it. Everybody +suffering from the pangs of love feels much relieved when he has +confessed his passion. Everybody experiences relief, when he bears a +grudge against anybody, on “speaking his mind” about him. Criminals +are not seldom led by an inward impulse to confess offences committed +long before. Thus, this impulse, which I shall term the impulse of +revelation, is a quite normal one, and belongs in some measure to every +man. + +In poets of genius, who have such manifold feelings and moods, and +in whose rich fancy so many new thoughts and ideas are continually +springing up, this impulse is proportionately manifest. But since, as +we have seen, the feelings and moods of the poet cannot be described +in simple words, art is required to give utterance to them. Such a +poet no more writes for the sake of making poetry than a rational man +talks for the sake of talking; he creates his work of art solely to +the end that he may give utterance to the sentiments, feelings, and +thoughts with which his soul is burdened. If he finds his work has no +success nor recognition, he of course feels the same pain that any man +would feel who wants to express himself to somebody and is understood +by nobody. But he is incapable of altering anything in his work or +reshaping it for a new edition. He can only be what he is. He feels +himself incapable of creating anything but the embodiment of his ideas +and sentiments. + +Such a poet was Goethe. Art was for him only the means of expression +of his sentiments. He expressed in poetic form only what really took +place within himself, what he really lived, felt, and experienced. He +himself said: “All my poems are occasional poems. They were called +forth by real circumstances and have their reason and place therein. +I never valued poems snatched out of the air. A special situation is +universal and poetic, simply because a poet treats of it. What I did +not undergo and what did not concern me I have never sung or expressed. +I never wrote love poems without being in love.” And again he said: “If +I desired for my poems a true basis and reflection, I had to get it in +my own bosom. And so began that habit--from which I have never departed +through life--of converting whatever rejoiced, or worried, or otherwise +concerned me into a poem and so have done with it, and thus at once to +correct my conceptions of outward things and to set my mind at rest. +The gift for doing so could be to nobody more needful than to me; for +my nature was always swaying from one extreme to another. Thus, all I +have published are but fragments of a long confession.” + +In Goethe the most diverse moods replaced one another. As he says, he +passed from one extreme to another. To give them expression was the +motive of his artistic production. The matter of his creations was +furnished by his creative fancy, which in its turn took its material +from the world in which he lived and into which he had such an insight +as no other had. Thus, as often as his relations in life altered, he +would alter the plan of his Wilhelm Meister, as he describes it in +the following words: “Its beginnings came from a dim premonition that +though a man may often essay things whose successful performance was +denied to him by Nature, yet perhaps all false steps really carry +him toward a priceless good. This conjecture is in Wilhelm Meister +developed, illustrated, established, and at last expressly enunciated +in the clear words, ‘Thou appearest to me like Saul, the son of Kis, +who went out to fetch his father’s she-asses and found a kingdom.’” +The following is likewise highly instructive: “For this purpose I +collected the elements that I had been turning over in my mind for +a couple of years, and examined the cases which had troubled me the +most and occasioned me the most anxiety. However, nothing seemed to +shape itself. I was in want of an incident or plot in which things +could embody themselves. Finally, I got news of Jerusalem’s death; +and just after the general notice came a precise and circumstantial +account of the event. In an instant the remainder of the plan was +found. Everything closed up on all sides and became a compact mass. +It was like water in a vessel just on the point of freezing, which at +the least joggle becomes a solid lump of ice.” His joys and sorrows, +his desires, his pleasures and pains were exhibited by Goethe in the +heroes of his poems. In their veins flowed his blood, they breathed +with his lungs, and they lived by his life. + +Dilthey[32] says: “The poetic process is in most of Goethe’s creations +the same. A state of heart is powerfully experienced in the whole outer +situation, with all the ideas, states, and shapes surrounding it, and +since now the inwardly moved poet meets an outward condition fit to be +made the vehicle of the experiences of his heart, there arises in this +coalescence the nucleus of a poem which at once contains in itself all +characteristic traits, the entire mood, the lines of the whole.” + +In giving artistic expression to his own sentiments and his own fancy, +Goethe painted the sentiments and reactions of society. The reason +was that his soul was but the mirror of the world in which he lived. +The greatness of the poet consisted precisely in this accidental +correspondence; and when he painted his own woes and joys he was +painting unawares the woes and joys of humanity. Goethe himself touches +upon this in the following words: “There is all the difference in the +world between the poet’s seeking out the particular to fit the general, +and showing the general in the particular. The former method gives rise +to allegory, where the particular is only an example of the general; +but the latter method is the proper nature of poetry. It expresses a +particular without thinking of the general or referring to it. Whoever +catches the particular in all its life will have set his finger upon +the universal without at first knowing what he has captured.” + +This method of poetic creation is not, however, found in all poets. Art +is not always an expression of sentiments and feelings. Poets as famous +as Goethe have worked under totally different psychical conditions, +and have created in an altogether different way. + +Such a difference is found in those two men whom the German people +with just pride hold to be the greatest poets of the century. Between +scarcely any two poets have so many parallels been drawn as between +Goethe and Schiller. Critics of to-day often rate Goethe higher than +Schiller, and make him the greater of the two poets. But from the +psychological standpoint we are forced to the conviction that there +is between them a difference other than one of degree. Were Schiller +raised to an ever so much higher power (if an algebraical metaphor may +be permitted), he could never become a Goethe, but he might become a +Shakespeare. + +While Goethe took “in his own bosom” the poetic basis of his works, +Schiller placed the germs of his poems in the outer world. While Goethe +conceived poetry as merely the means of utterance of his sentiments, +and hence spoke of his writings as “fragments of a long confession,” +Schiller declares the purpose of poesy to be “none other than the +completest expression of humanity.” While Goethe’s heroes were made +of his own flesh and blood, Schiller’s fancy produced, idealized and +generalized embodiments of characters he had observed and studied in +the outward world. Schiller attached an intrinsic value to the outward +habiliments of poetry, the sonorous and metaphorical language, the +melody of verse, the plot of the drama. Goethe regarded the outward +form as the mere “_Machwerk_”--the make-up--and of course did not +finish and polish his works with the same care as Schiller. Of his +Wallenstein, Schiller said: “Almost everything is cut away from me +by which I might get at this matter in my usual way. Everything has +to be effectuated by a felicitous form.” The construction of the +form sufficed to bring him inspiration, though he could take no real +interest in his personages. Speaking of the same drama in a letter, +he says: “The matter is so alien to me that I can hardly get up an +interest in it. It leaves me well-nigh cold and indifferent. Yet I am +enthusiastic over the work. Two personages excepted, for whom I have +some sympathy, I treat the whole _dramatis personæ_, especially the +leading character, with a mere artistic love, cold as charity; but I +assure you, they shall not turn out any worse on this account.” Goethe +could never have brought himself to write in that fashion. When he had +once given expression to his sentiments in a poetic rough-draught, he +would often neglect it for years before he finished it. + +“Goethe,” says Hermann Grimm, “was in his inmost heart of quite the +opposite way of thinking from Schiller. He acknowledged Schiller’s +importance, reverenced his earnest life, esteemed his greatness as +a man. But as for what Schiller called poems, they were in Goethe’s +eyes not poetry at all. Schiller’s poetical creating was foreign to +Goethe. Schiller would begin by casting about for material. Then +he worked it till he had made it plastic. Next, he laid his plans. +These plans he placed before himself, and went to work, so many hours +_per diem_, to construct his work, as a mason would build a palace, +in strict conformity to the plan before him. That done, he took a +contract with himself to put in the painting, the ornaments, and the +furniture; and finally he cleaned the whole thing up, and opened it to +the public. This thorough workmanship was Schiller’s forte. He was a +professional poet, and he excelled all other professional poets. Goethe +appreciated this; but he could not practise it himself. He discussed +the technical questions which are of importance in criticising poetry, +and in producing it, too, with the utmost seriousness, but always as +an outsider. Making verses was for him an inconceivable proceeding. +Whoever applied to Goethe to know whether he ought to go into the +poetical profession came to a fine quarter. Young persons with a turn +for versification have an artless belief that there is somewhere an +Areopagus from which they may obtain a solemn and authoritative +concession to make verses; and that thereupon they may be assured that +their verses will meet with ‘success’--that is, be read and admired. +Goethe was only able to give an answer which threw them back upon a +metaphor--that a silkworm had only to eat leaves, and the silk would +surely not be in default. In short, he replied evasively, dissuasively, +and hesitatingly. But Schiller would answer in good faith. He +criticised the verses inclosed and required, if they would trust to +him, that they should persevere industriously. Naturally, he warned +them that the art of poetry must not be attempted unless the writer was +prepared to dedicate his life to it, with other such admonitions of +good sense.”[33] + +Schiller, for his part, considered poems which sprang from the author’s +personal feelings, which included Goethe’s, as not, in the proper +sense of the term, poetry. Concerning the few things he had himself +done in that way Schiller said: “These verses are a mere natural +utterance--a _Naturlaut_, as Herder would say--a note of pain, artless +and comparatively formless. They are too true for the individual, to +be called poetry proper; for in them the individual appeases his need +and alleviates his burden, while in lyrics of another kind, carried +away by a flood, he yields to the need of creating. The present lines +give utterance to the sentiment from which they sprang and, after their +kind, they make no further pretension.” + +_These contrasts between the two poets did not rest upon any +differences of principle, nor were they consequences of any divergence +of theoretical views, but were due directly to differences of psychical +mechanism._ + +Goethe in his prevailing moods was, as he describes himself, “tossed +from one extreme to another.” + + Now merry, now heart-cut, + Now thankful to be; + Or dangling uncertain + In flittering pain; + Exulting to heaven, + To death beaten down, etc.[34] + +These words picture Goethe’s life. His moods were capable of the finest +gradations. They arose spontaneously; he could give no account of them. +His luxuriant fancy was formed from feelings and moods and pressed +forward to artistic embodiment. + +Goethe is often a riddle to himself. He considered his fancy as an +objective spectator. Its variegated mixture became the source of his +poetic ideas. But his strong intellectual power set limits to the +rovings of his fancy, and did not allow it to be subjugated to his +fluctuating moods, but held the mental balance even. + +Schiller’s fancy was not excited by spontaneous moods. It was not in +that way that he was urged to artistic expression. His moods depended +upon his ideas. They were produced by ideas and modified by ideas. +Schiller’s fancy no doubt lent poetic ideas to his searching intellect; +but it did not work on its own account as Goethe’s did. It was an +effect of the will. Schiller could never say that his works arose “as +in a dream,” or that he versified “like a sleepwalker.” He did not feel +that he produced “unconsciously.” What he did was the result of the +most deliberate purpose. + +Goethe’s impulse to deliver himself, to set forth his sentiments in +artistic form, corresponds to Schiller’s need of producing, to the +exuberance “impelled by superfluity” toward artistic creation. The +turning-point for him lies in the intellect, and this draws from the +outward world and from fancy in order to erect a sublime art temple. +The characters produced by him did not, like Goethe’s, arise from his +own sentiment, but were thoroughly artificial products. + +Both Goethe and Schiller felt the gulf between them. After their first +meeting, Schiller wrote to Körner: “His whole nature is laid down on +other lines from mine; he lives in another world, and our modes of +thought seem to be widely remote.” + +Knowing that Goethe had in many ways excelled him, Schiller wrote: “It +is true that, in entering this path, I encroach upon Goethe’s domain +and must measure myself against him. It is furthermore certain that +here I will be outstripped by him. But a remainder is left for me, +which is mine, and which he can never attain; so that the preference +given to him will be no shame to me, and I hope that things will about +balance. In my most courageous moments I hope that the public will +class us as different, but will not subordinate one species to the +other, rather co-ordinating us both under a broader idealistic generic +concept.” Thus Schiller justly recognised the difference of their +“species” and had the right feeling that the one species ought not +to be subordinated to the other. Twenty years after Schiller’s death +Goethe said: “Schiller, who had the true poetical nature, but whose +mind inclined to reflection and compelled much by force of reflection, +that ought to spring up in a poet unconsciously and of its own accord, +drew many young men his way who could, after all, only learn his +language.” + +The vast difference between these two men showed itself in many +traits of their character. Goethe, who in his poems responded only to +an inward impulse, a natural need, wrote above all for himself, and +asked nothing for the public. Schiller’s efforts were to impose upon +the world, to please the public. He himself says: “The public is now +all with me; it is the subject of my studies, it is my sovereign, my +friend. To the public alone I now belong. I shall submit to no other +tribunal than this. This I fear, and this I respect.” Goethe neither +feared nor honoured the public, and did not concern himself about what +critics said of him, while Schiller often confessed that the critics +had influenced him much. Goethe made no haste to get his works before +the public; while Schiller could not wait till his creation was mature +to commence publication. Thus, he published fragments of “Don Carlos” +in Thalia, long before the poem was completed. But he himself regretted +it later, for he would have liked to have altered something. + +As I said above, Shakespeare might be called a Schiller raised to a +higher power. Unfortunately, we have no detailed information about his +life and opinions. But his works sufficiently show that never has poet +been able to paint characters so true to nature and life as he. The +world in its unadulterated genuineness and merest truth was reflected +in the soul of this immortal poet. No theatrical puppets are they to +whom his fancy gave being. They are men and women--living flesh and +blood. They really feel, lament and make merry. But the poet himself +does not speak to us through them. The man Shakespeare we do not know, +nor can we guess what manner of man he was, nor what he felt. In every +word of Goethe it is him we hear, and it is inconceivable that anybody +should love his works without seeing the poet in them, who speaks to +us by them. But with Shakespeare it is only for his characters that we +warm up. With them we can sympathize, but the poet remains a stranger +to us. + +Schiller himself tells us that the matter of his poems often left +him cold. His feelings were not engaged. In the whole of Wallenstein +only two persons interested him (probably Max and Thekla). With many +poets we can see that their heroic characters, which mounted their +fancy, exercised a powerful influence upon their poetic hearts. So +Dickens tells us that he sympathized with his favourite heroes; that +he decidedly looked upon them as living persons; that during the +composition he concerned himself about their fate as he would about a +dear friend’s; that, in short, he partook of their sorrows and joys +in his inmost soul. Thus, while with Goethe moods and sentiments were +at the bottom of the production of the work of art, such psychical +conditions were called forth in Dickens in a secondary way by the +productions of his fancy. With Schiller, again, moods seem to have +played neither an active nor a passive part in the creation of his +poems. A poet who, from a psychological point of view, is to be +compared with Goethe--though in a much lower potency, for whom, +however, art was equally a means for expressing his feelings and +sentiments--is Byron, on which account Goethe rated him particularly +high, feeling in him a certain mental affinity to himself. + +We see, then, how enormous a difference, from a psychological point +of view, there is between the greatest poets, especially between +those two whom the German people are accustomed to couple together as +inseparable. Nor do these differences consist in one’s being placed +above the other; but those psychical phenomena which for Goethe formed +the main condition of his poetic life are not present at all in +Schiller, but are replaced by different qualities. Yet there is one +element they have in common. I mean creative fancy, without which it is +impossible to conceive of a poet. This creative fancy therefore forms a +common factor of all poetical genius. + +Let us now turn to a psychological study of the most famous composers. +We frequently meet with descriptions of the mode of production of their +works, as we do with those of poets of genius. They, too, have the +feeling of unconscious production, of the independent springing up of +their tone-poems. Mozart frequently said the ideas of his creations +came to him as in a dream. Gluck said thoughts flowed to him, and he +knew not whence they came. Haydn believed that a “divine will” had +through him created his greatest work--Die Schöpfung. + +Here again, then, we find an independent fancy, such as we have +recognised in poets of genius. In quite an analogous way in painters of +genius fancy sometimes pours out its wealth in an inexhaustible spring. +The imagination bodies forth new shapes unceasingly, and every figure, +every tree, every stream is set forth in its smallest details; and +these ideas weld with others in harmonious ideal images. + +The question which presents itself, then, is: Whence comes it that one +fancy expresses itself in poetic production, that in another musical +creations spring up, while in a third painting is the vent of the +creative imagination? The answer to this question leads us to consider +that congenital capacity which is generally called Talent. + +What is, for example, musical talent? While at the first hearing of +a concerted piece unmusical persons hear nothing but the flow of the +melody and the general character of the sounds, those who are talented +comprehend the composition in all its divisions. In their apperception +the harmony resolves itself into its parts, and the general effect +of the sound is analyzed. While the sensuous impression called forth +by music quickly passes away in those without talent, with talent a +single hearing suffices to create a lasting memory. Musical talent is +able to make out subtleties which are quite hidden from those who want +it. In musicians of talent not even the direct excitation of musical +reminiscences is needed to suggest auditory images, but they may be +produced associatively from optical centres of apperception. Such +people can, for example, read over a score and acquire as clear an idea +of the composition as if they actually heard it. Though these qualities +be carried to their highest pitch, they still remain matters not of +genius but of talent. Mozart after hearing a mass once was able to +write the whole down; but this is only a proof of vast talent, and does +not depend upon that creative fancy which his compositions bespeak. + +We have reason to presume that the causes of talent are to be +attributed to anatomical conditions. For example, the autopsy of the +brain of Gambetta (whose extraordinary oratorical power is well known) +showed an uncommonly great development of the third frontal or Broca’s +convolution--that is to say, of the part of the brain in which the +centre of language is situated. It is to be presumed that musical +talent depends upon a specially refined development of a certain +acoustic centre, although its exact localization at present escapes our +knowledge. Talent is certainly nothing but the material for artistic +creation. It is, so to say, the instrument of the artist, while the +creative power of genius corresponds to the artistic power of drawing +tones from that instrument. + +In Mozart the turning point of his artistic production lay in his +inexhaustible fancy, which, according to his family, was in incessant +action. His wife said: “In truth, his head was working all the time, +his mind was ever moving, he composed almost unceasingly.” “In Prague +it once happened that Mozart, while he was playing billiards, was +humming a _motif_, and from time to time would look into a book he had +with him. Afterward he confessed that he had been at work upon the +first quintette of the Zauberflöte.”[35] His sister Sophia described +him as follows: “He was always in good humour, but even at best very +reflective, looking one very sharp in the eye meantime, answering +attentively whether he was cheerful or sad, yet always seeming to +be preoccupied with something else. Even while washing his hands in +the morning he would walk up and down the room; and he never stood +still, but would strike one heel against the other. And he was always +reflecting.”[36] “When he travelled with his wife through a beautiful +country he looked attentively and silently upon the world about him. +His physiognomy, commonly rather self-contained and gloomy than brisk +and free, would gradually become more cheerful, and then he would +begin to sing, or rather to hum, until at last he would exclaim, ‘If +I only had that theme on paper!’ And if she said that it could easily +be done, he would say, ‘Yes, of course, it is a stupid thing that we +must sit down and do our work in the room.’” This remark reminds us of +a passage in a letter of Goethe: “As you may readily imagine, I have a +hundred new things in my head; and now it does not depend on thinking; +it depends on the making. What a thing it would be if we could confine +objects so that they would stay put!” + +In his inexhaustible and restlessly working fancy Mozart was very much +like Goethe. His works commonly lay ready-made in his memory when +he began to set them down on paper. He wrote most unwillingly, and +generally waited till the last minute, so that he was commonly behind +time. It is well known that he wrote the overture to Don Juan the night +before the performance of the opera. While we consider creative fancy +to be a part of the action of his genius, his vast musical memory was a +matter of talent, which in Mozart was not less phenomenal. When he once +sent his sister a fugue with a prelude he excused himself for writing +the prelude after the fugue. “The truth is,” said he, “it was while I +was writing down the fugue that I composed the prelude.”[37] Thus his +fancy was able to work undisturbed while he exercised his intellectual +reproductive power. This fact may at first sight seem incredible and +contradictory to common psychical conditions. But it is not so. Here +again is a high refinement of a universal psychical phenomenon. Most +men, while engaged in a mechanical occupation, can give a free rein +to the play of fancy; and even when the mechanical work requires some +attention, many men are able at the same time to think about something +else. Whoever is accustomed to work in a laboratory knows very well +what it is to follow those mechanical operations with attention and at +the same time to be considering some important question. The strange +thing in Mozart’s case is that the writing down from memory of a +fugue--a work which would have required the concentrated attention of a +fairly talented man--was for him a mere mechanical act. We hardly know +which most to admire, his stupendous talent or his creative genius. + +Mozart’s rich fancy, like that of Goethe, was directed by a high +intellectual faculty which checked its boilings over, held the ideas +to an ordered sequence, and eliminated disturbing elements. Mozart’s +capacity of concentrating his attention upon what was in his mind, and +of shutting out all disturbing perceptions of sense, was tremendous. +While he was at work social conversation about him was no annoyance, +and even with an orchestra playing in his ears he could calmly follow +out his own fancy. “His eldest sister, Frau Hofer, told Neukomm that +even at the opera,--as anybody who knew him could easily observe by the +restless movements of his hands, by his glance, and by his pursing his +lips to sing or whistle,--he would be completely taken up in following +out his inward train of music.”[38] + +But wherever it was worth while to pay attention to the outer world, +and to take in outward impressions of sense, he had an equally high +capacity for that. His fancy received rich aliment from the action of +his intellect. He had studied the old masters perfectly. He himself +said: “Nobody takes so much pains in the study of composition as I. +You could not easily name a famous master in music whom I have not +industriously studied, often going through his works several times.” +Rochlitz reports that he knew the chief works of Händel as well as if +he had all his life been director of the London Academy for the Support +of Old Music. + +With all the likeness between Mozart and Goethe there was this +remarkable difference between them, that Mozart was not influenced +by moods. They had no part whatever in the work of his artistic +production. Art was not for him the means of expression of his own +sentiments, as it was with Goethe; he could adapt the play of his +fancy to outward conditions, to motives of the outer world; so that, +in this respect, Mozart strongly reminds one of Schiller. He could set +his fancy any problem he liked, and it would promptly proceed to solve +it. Mozart could compose to order; and many of his works, especially +canons, were produced in that way. In consonance with this was Mozart’s +power of setting foreign texts of operas to music, which corresponded +precisely to the character and mood of the words, although he did not +warm up to them. + +In Beethoven, on the contrary, art was solely a means of expression of +his own sentiments and feelings. The immortal creations which sprang +from his artistic fancy enable us to look deeply into the spiritual +life of the great artist. They paint his inner struggles, his anguish, +and his delight. + +The ideal that was constantly before him, and which by great struggles +he sought to attain, was that of a strong, active, manly character, +unmoved by any blow of fate and never despondent in the struggle of +life, but keeping up its courage to its last breath. “Courage! However +weak my body, my soul shall rule.” To this boast he always adhered, no +matter how hard his lot. After a joyless youth he had to contend with +the direst need. But worst of all was the defect of his hearing, which +at last amounted to stone-deafness. One can imagine what it meant for +him to be the only one to whom it was not permitted to listen to his +own symphonies. But dreadful as it was, his courage was never broken; +his soul marched victoriously to the strife and held command over his +sufferings. + +Such moods as struggle, gloom, hope, pleasure, suffering, burst into +expression in his art of music--the mother tongue of sentiments and +moods. Of every creation of Beethoven we may say, with Goethe, it was +“a fragment of one long confession.” + +The fineness of Beethoven’s faculty of sense, the subtilty in the +_nuances_ of his moods, was a no less important factor of his nature +than his rich creative fancy. Words could not describe his sentiments; +only music, the language of the heart, could render them; and his moods +were the motives of the action of his genius. + +How little such feelings and sentiments can be described in words is +shown by Richard Wagner in his Programmatische Erläuterungen.[38] In +speaking of the Heroic Symphony he says: “The first movement brings +to a focus all the sentiments of a rich manly nature in restless, +youthful, active emotion. Bliss and woe, delight and suffering, joy +and grief, musing and aspiration, yearning and revelling, daring, +insolence, and indomitable self-feeling jostle so closely upon one +another that while we sympathize with all these sentiments, we can +isolate no one, but are obliged to partake of all as this master of +all sentiments delivers them.” Of the second movement he says: “A +sentiment excited in solemn nuptials and combined with profound pain is +communicated to us in a tone language which takes possession of us; an +earnest, manly sorrow looks forward out of its plaint to soft pathos, +to recollections, to tears of love, to inward elevation, to inspired +summons.” But it is in vain that Wagner strives to reproduce in words +the mood produced by the work or the sentiments of his artistic heart. +He confesses it himself: “But who could paint in words the infinitely +manifold but inexpressible sentiments which pass from pain to the +highest exultation, and from exultation to the softest grief, until +they come to rest in a bottomless pondering? The tone poet alone could +do this in this wonderful composition.” The account closes with the +words: “But only in the master’s tone-speech could that unspeakable +meaning be uttered which my confined words have attempted to describe +with the greatest modesty.” + +Thus between these two classics, Mozart and Beethoven, there was a +distinction analogous to that between Schiller and Goethe. Still, +creative fancy is the common and indispensable factor, without which +neither a poet nor a composer of genius can be conceived. + +It plays the same important part in the minds of painters. Accordingly, +Humboldt[39] says: “As soon as the painter’s fancy has given birth to +the living image, the masterpiece is completed, though his hand were +that instant to be paralyzed. The actual execution is but the echo of +that decisive moment.” But the same psychological distinction pursues +us. For some painters art was merely the means of expression of their +sentiments and moods. Examples will be mentioned in another chapter. + +Let us first turn our attention to representatives of the arts of +execution. I mean musical performers and actors. + +We have already analyzed the nature of musical talent, so that we +can come at once to the question, What is the distinction between a +performer of talent and a performer of genius? + +Jean Paul[40] speaks of men of “receptive or passive genius” “who are +richer in receptive than in creative fancy,” to whose productions +that radiance of genius is wanting “which only breaks forth from the +consensus of all the powers, and from great powers alone.” + +By “receptive fancy,” which is an expression psychologically incorrect, +Jean Paul means that state of heart which is particularly inclined to +be put by a work of art into a responsive mood, a disposition that can +enter into the sentiments of the artist and can fully enjoy his work. +Jean Paul says: “There are men who, endowed with a higher sensibility +than powerful talent in itself confers, but with less power, receive +into a consecrated, open soul the great world-mind, be it in outward +life or in poems and thoughts, and remain constant to it as the tender +woman to the strong man, disdaining the vulgar, and who yet, if they +would express their love, stammer out broken, confused words and say +something different from what they wished to say.” These are people +endowed with extreme delicacy of feeling and sentiment, so that they +are more capable of being absorbed in a work of genius than others, +yet lacking the creative fancy which would enable them to give to +their sensations an independent artistic expression. Let such people +be provided with musical talent which specially fits them for the use +of an instrument, and they will have the opportunity, in playing the +compositions of others, to express their own artistic feelings and +sentiments. They will put their souls into the reproduction of the +work. In short, they will be performers of genius. Schütz[41] says of +Paganini: “The instant he took his instrument a divine spark seemed to +touch him, and celestial fire ran through his being. Every feeling of +weakness departed. He was transformed into a new being; he instantly +became another soul; and so long as he played, his strength was more +than quintupled.” So it is with those actors and singers who in the +performance of a part are completely absorbed in the situation. They +throw into it their artistically excited hearts, and fulfil their +feelings and sentiments. + +Other performers of no less talent, or perhaps more, remain cold and +without sensation in the performance of the work of art. With them the +intellectual function alone determines their rendering of the piece. +The effects are calculated, the execution studied, the whole is made +up. However great the talent of such performers, bringing them to the +highest pitch of technical skill, genius will never be attributed to +them by the great public. Thus we see that in artists of execution the +psychical causes of performances of genius have to be sought in the +sphere of feeling and sensation. That faculty which we have recognised +as the chief requisite for the genius of the creative artist--namely, +creative fancy--is never present in the performer of genius. + +Thus, in the attempt to reduce genius in different departments to the +same or similar faculties, we are thrown into perplexity. There are +doubtless common factors, but it must be admitted that the psychical +elements which constitute the essence of genius in poets such as +Schiller, and in performers such as Paganini, have nothing in common. + +We now pass to the consideration of those famous men who are called men +of scientific genius or scholars of genius. An inquiry into the causes +of scientific genius will show that it has two factors--discovery and +invention. Copernicus, Galileo, Newton distinguished themselves by +many important discoveries. As we have seen above, the success of the +discoverer is partly dependent upon external circumstances; so that we +shall not remain content with the outward facts, but shall endeavour +to probe the matter to the bottom. In short, we shall try to find +psychical circumstances accounting for the discoveries of genius. + +When Newton’s friend Halley once asked him how he ever came to make +all those great discoveries, he said it was by incessantly dwelling +on the problems concerned. On another occasion he said that the chief +difference between him and other men was that he had more patience than +others. + +Galileo investigated and worked restlessly to his latest years. When he +was blind in both eyes, he wrote, by the hand of another, that in his +darkness his mind was perpetually turning over the problems of nature, +and would not cease its activity, even when he desired rest; so that he +was deprived of his sleep. + +These and other sayings of famous men of science about the actions +of their mind and the origin of the ideas of genius have an entirely +different tone from the analogous reports of poets and composers. +Great discoveries, unless they were mere effects of chance, have never +been made “unconsciously,” “as in a dream,” “like sleepwalking,” but, +on the contrary, require the completest wakefulness, self-conscious +thought, and untiring industry. These characters, which we find in +all great investigators and scholars, depend upon the extremest +refinement of that part of the psychical organ which is the vehicle +of the intellectual powers. In the first place, and above all, great +discoverers have great powers of observation. For this, as we know, +undivided attention concentrated upon an exterior process is requisite. +The faculties of perception and ideation are highly refined; the +organs of apperception and reproduction act with the greatest energy. +The ideas obtained in this way are connected into conceptual forms +by that intellectual action which Wundt[42] terms the “inductive +understanding.” Upon the extremest refinement of this faculty depends +the quick and correct recognition of the connections of things which is +met with in great investigators. + +We find here, then, essentially different psychical conditions from +those of poets and artists of genius. We may go so far as to say that +they are antagonistic, the one to the other. A rich fancy and a variety +of moods, feelings, and sentiments, which form the main condition of a +productive artist, are not only of no use to a great investigator of +Nature, but they are positively disadvantageous to him. Every human +being possesses fancy, and an absolutely sharp line of demarcation +cannot be drawn between fancy and intellect. Every man, too, is subject +to oscillations of his moods. But to the great investigator it is +absolutely essential that his intellect should possess an iron rule +over all other psychical factors. Schiller says of the poet: “He will +do well not to let his reason keep too severe a guard at the doors +against the incrowding ideas.” But for the investigating scholar it is +not well that a rich fancy should modify the result of his objective +observations or should draw his attention away from the object of his +research. + +Those authors who endeavour to find a general psychological basis +for genius, but strive to limit the term to a particular class of +famous men--as, for example, to productive artists--cannot avoid the +incorrect reasoning into which Meyer falls when he says[43]: “Nobody +can dispute that genius, even in science, is only the result of the +creative force of imagination.” In another place the same author says: +“Reflective thought is often prejudicial to the creative power of +genius. Thought must come from itself and conclude according to its +elective affinities.” According to this, all reflective thought must +be prejudicial to the genius of the scholar. But we have learned from +their own words that reflection is requisite to the success of scholars. + +Whoever, like Meyer, recognises “creative imagination” and the +“unconscious origination of thoughts” as the essence of genius ought +not to apply that term to the learned. But when Schopenhauer, who gave +a similar meaning to genius, says of generals and statesmen, “It is +ridiculous to talk of genius in such folks,” Herr Meyer protests and +says: “I should rather call it ridiculous to deny that Frederick the +Great was a political and military genius, that Napoleon was a general +of genius, or that Bismarck was a statesman of genius.” + +The usage of language alone, irrespective of other considerations, must +determine whether we shall apply the name of genius to generals or +statesmen; but this much is manifest, that the greatness of a military +commander depends upon essentially different psychical conditions +from the greatness of an artist. If we are to conceive of genius as +Meyer does, and are to follow him in declaring that the “how” and +the “wherefore” “remain obscure” for genius, that “nothing is less +conscious,” “nothing less voluntary,” than “a thought of genius,” and +that “reflecting thought is sometimes prejudicial to the creative force +of genius,” then it certainly must seem ridiculous to connect such an +appellation with Frederick the Great, Napoleon, or Bismarck. Imagine a +great statesman for whom the “how” and the “wherefore” remain always +obscure. Think of a Bismarck devoid of “reflective thought.” + +The greatness of a general or a statesman is exclusively due to +sharpness of intellect. A power of swift apprehension, an instantaneous +recognition of facts and their connections, a logical and consecutive +reason--these are the qualities which are indispensable to a general of +genius. The great statesman and the great soldier must neither of them +be influenced by varying moods and feelings. All moods and feelings +must be entirely subordinated. An understanding conscious of its +purpose and an iron will must direct and lead the whole action of the +soul. The general of genius is always distinguished by discretion and +cold deliberation; he preserves an imposing calm. At critical moments +he shows a wonderful presence of mind. He never permits any upwellings +of feeling or preponderance of emotion. Hence the greatest statesman +of our age has received the admirable epithet of the Man of Iron. How +utterly is the psychical constitution of such a man unlike the rich and +sensitive heart of the artist of genius! For the substance of the great +statesman of genius iron is required; but it is wax that has to compose +the sensitive artist. + +The psychical faculties are not sharply separable. They insensibly +shade into one another. Hence we find a gradual transitional series of +minds bridging over the interval between creative art and inductive +science. It is in this series that we are to place the inventor. For +him a combination of fancy with “inductive intellectual action,” as +Wundt calls it, is what is to be desired. The action of his productive +imagination is essentially different from that of the free, creative +fancy of the artist of genius. In the dreams of the artist the work of +art emerges freely, without that definite, prefigured, foreseen purpose +which is needed in the imagination of the inventor. Well-planned, +systematic thought is for him not less requisite than the productive +faculty. It is the combination of both states, or an intermediate +condition, which we find here. + +There are many points of agreement between the psychical conditions +of the creative artist and those of the scientific investigator. But +where art begins science ends. Speculative philosophy used to call for +creative imagination, no doubt; but this department of thought, which +among the ancients was the queen of the sciences, is to-day scarcely +recognised as science at all. Plato was much more a poet than a +representative of science. On the other hand, those poets and novelists +who undertake the construction of characters in objective fashion, on a +basis of research and observation, approximate toward scientific minds. + +Perhaps when Meyer says that genius in science is fulfilled only by +the creative force of imagination he means the speculative sciences +of theology and philosophy. But the further science advances toward +its goal of truth, the more it will emancipate itself from fancies; +or, to express the matter more accurately, the less science has to do +with fancy, the more truthful will it become and the higher will be +its value. In the truest of all the sciences, mathematics, fancy will +accomplish very little. Fancy can not solve equations nor enunciate +theorems. Fancy never discovered bacteria, nor has it been successful +as a method of medical diagnosis. + +We conclude, then, that _genius in different departments is referable +to the most diverse psychical conditions_. Psychical faculties and +characters which in one case constitute the essence of genius, in +another case are inconsistent with the action of genius. In short, +definite psychical characters common to all genius are not to be found. +One would seek in vain any common psychological explanation of the +greatness of a Paganini and a Bismarck, of a Mozart and a Napoleon. + +That which of old connected all genius in the eyes of men and, in +fact, gave rise to the conception, was the idea of the mystical, the +unaccountable, the supernatural. If any such standpoint as that is +to be assumed, of course there remains no difficulty in finding an +unequivocal meaning for the term. Prof. Jürgen Bona Meyer says: “The +ancient Greeks considered poets and artists to be consecrated to God +and inspired of God. When they produced their works the Godhead seized +upon them in sacred madness, and through them spoke to men. Who knows +but that is the very truth? Perhaps God really does lead the world by +these creative souls to the high goal to which it is destined. Perhaps +a philosophy of history might make this significance of the heroes of +spirit and of force manifest, and vindicate the faith which, in the +geniuses of earth, will recognise the immediate agents of God.” If +notions like these are what is meant by ideas of genius, Meyer is +quite right in saying that genius can be introduced into science only +by the creative force of the imagination. Modern science, however, can +not follow Mr. Meyer in these “fancies of genius,” for it is restricted +to objective observation and to actual knowledge. + +The foregoing researches will bring the reader to the conviction that +_no psychological meaning can be attached to the word genius_. We can +make out what a poetic genius is, what a composer of genius is, what a +performer of genius is, what a military genius is, what a scientific +genius is, etc.; but to accept genius as a univocal term and attach +one psychological definition to it, to any good purpose, is not to be +done. Undoubtedly all men of genius have common traits; but they are +not traits characteristic of genius; they are such as are possessed by +other men, and more or less by all men. Indeed, in no case is there +anything in the mode of action of genius qualitatively different +from that of other men; there are only different degrees of the same +qualities. We can, for any psychical character, form an unbroken +series of instances from the grade met with in the average man up to +phenomenal genius, and every rung of the ladder will be occupied; so +that it is impossible to say where the line is to be drawn between +ordinary men and men of genius. In psychology every individual man is a +_species sui generis_. To attempt to separate men into disparate kinds, +as we do plants, would be a backward step in biology. + +Chemists analyze different kinds of substances, and show that all +contain precisely the same elements; so that no two substances differ, +except in the proportions of their elementary constituents. It is +just as scientifically established that in all men precisely the +same psychical elements occur, and that these may exist in any one +proportion as well as in any other. Mood, fancy, intellectual function, +memory, ideation, apprehension, etc., are characters present in every +man, and into them psychological analysis dissects every man’s +faculties, whether he be a genius or whether he be an ordinary man. + +The purpose of these researches and of the conclusions to which they +lead will become apparent in the following chapter. Psychiatrists +have of late been much interested in genius; but before I could +discuss the questions which have been mooted, it seemed incumbent upon +me to ascertain what is meant by genius. Was it a psychologically +definite condition, or was it a loose name for a promiscuous bundle of +phenomena? Having, in what precedes, expressed my opinion upon this, I +now proceed to the principal question. + + + + + GENIUS AND INSANITY. + + +Having come to the conclusion that the designation “genius” does not +express any one psychological concept, that nobody has succeeded in +giving a pregnant definition of genius, nor is likely to do so, and +also that insanity is equally indefinable, that it is impossible to +draw a sharp line between mental sanity and mental derangement, it may +seem useless to attempt to compare two such indefinite quantities. +Still, the comparison--so long as it is a comparison--if we draw our +conclusions with circumspection, can hardly do any harm; and it may +possibly enrich our knowledge and lead us toward a recognition of truth. + +It is no new-fangled notion that genius and insanity are somehow +connected. Plato is known to have spoken of a θεῖα μανία, a divine +insanity of poets. Seneca[44] attributes to Aristotle the saying, +“Nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiæ fuit.” Aristotle[45] +says: “Those who have been eminent in philosophy, politics, poetry, and +the arts have all had tendencies toward melancholia.” Cicero says:[46] +“Negat enim sine furore Democritus quemquam poetam magnum esse posse, +quod idem dicit Plato.” Horace[47] speaks of an _amabilis insania_, and +Wieland of an amiable insanity of the Muses. Dryden[48] has the lines-- + + Great wits are sure to madness near allied, + And thin partitions do their bounds divide. + +One undeniable resemblance of the two phenomena is the relative +infrequency of their occurrence and their divergence from the majority +of mankind. Of old there was a tendency to ascribe everything that was +uncommon and unaccountable to the influence of a supernatural force. +Accordingly, it was believed that famous minds, as well as those that +were darkened with madness, stood under a direct divine influence, or +even formed, themselves, a part of the Godhead. In the Middle Ages +the crazy were held to be bewitched, or possessed of the devil, while +the greatest minds were honoured as graced by the Holy Spirit. Not +infrequently the crazy, too, if their delusions or hallucinations were +of a religious cast, were considered as saints in direct communion +with the Deity. At the same time, eminent men of science, persecuted +by ignorance and superstition, were abhorred as tools of the devil or +burnt as heretics. At all events, genius and insanity--two inexplicable +phenomena and vaguely defined--have been confounded together in various +ages of the world, according to the ideas of those times. + +After modern science had got rid of the dross of superstition and +had taken its stand upon sceptical and objective observation, a +revolution of opinion took place. Anciently an unbounded freedom +had been attributed to the play of Nature. This far surpassed those +limits within which rigid laws of Nature allow any such play. That was +supernatural. But in modern times the tendency has been to confine +the action of Nature within much too restricted bounds. All phenomena +must now be brought under a _schema_ artificially erected. Everything +must have just such a measure and just such a weight, and every action +of Nature is regarded as subject to a numerical rule. This method of +investigation may have had beneficial results in physics, chemistry, +and the other sciences that have flourished under it, but such a method +of violent formularization must prove out of place for a science like +psychology, in which we must always be limited to purely empirical +facts, so that our investigations can only be analytical, and can never +proceed synthetically. + +As I have repeatedly remarked, psychology must strictly individualize; +and I can imagine nothing more preposterous or unscientific than to +assume a so-called normal man, and to conclude that anything which +widely departs from that norm is diseased. We have seen that all +phenomena of pronounced mental disease arise from the same psychical +elements as the healthy action of the mind. We have further seen that +the mental life of those great men whom we call geniuses presents no +other psychical conditions than those of ordinary men, except for +differences of quantity. “Health and disease,” says Claude Bernard, +“are not two essentially different forms, as the old physicians could +believe, and as many practitioners still believe. They are not to be +regarded as distinct principles, as entities disputing for the living +organism, and making it the theatre of their war. That sort of ideas +belong in the medical lumber room. But, in fact, between any form of +disease and health there are only differences of degree. No disease +is anything more than an exaggeration, or disproportion, or anharmony +of normal phenomena.”[49] This is true of all diseases whatsoever, +whether they be of corporeal or of mental origin. Hence the decision +whether anything is to be considered as a disease or not cannot be +made to depend upon how far the phenomena depart from a norm. The only +question is, whether the vital action of the organism is prejudiced or +the performance of the individual deranged. Take, for example, bodily +deformities or other perturbations of development. The only question +is whether the individual concerned is disabled or not. A woman with +a contracted pelvis, if she be otherwise normal and her organs act +normally, will not be called diseased; but as soon as she becomes +pregnant she becomes a pathological subject, because parturition can +not take place in the normal way. A man whose lungs are ill developed, +so that the slightest exertion produces dyspnœa, must be considered +as ill, while another man with uncommonly large lungs, such as fast +runners generally have, is certainly not to be called diseased on +account of this abnormality. + +People with bodily deformities, or anomalies of development, frequently +find themselves in situations in which they cannot fulfil some +requirements of business; and it depends upon the degree of their +incapacity how far their anomalies are to be reckoned as pathological. +The laity are frequently able to decide what can be expected of such +people, and what not. The subjects can often estimate for themselves +what they can undertake. Nobody would accept a dwarf for military +service, and a weak man will be conscious that he is not fit to be a +drawer of stones. + +It is the same in regard to mental departures from the average +proportions. Only, people with mental deformities are commonly less +able than those misshapen in body to decide for themselves in regard +to their capabilities, being generally not at all aware of their +defects. Nor are the laity in condition to form a sound judgment of the +mental state of such people. It is therefore for the best interests +of these subjects, as well as for society, that the question of their +accountability and responsibility should be left to experts. + +Now, how is it with corporeally overdeveloped men, or giants? According +to the investigations of Lange, Bollinger, Ecker, and Ranke, a number +of those giants who have been exactly described are disproportioned. +“In some cases there is a surprising disproportion between the +relatively small development of the central nervous system and their +overgrown bodies. Most commonly their excessively developed bones are +pathologically brittle, with irregular partial thickenings, curvatures, +or absolute deformities.”[50] Nevertheless, cases do occur, according +to Ranke, in which these men are well proportioned and can fulfil the +requirements of life. The question whether giants, or overgrown men, +are to be regarded as diseased depends entirely upon the proportionate +development of their parts. Gigantic growth _per se_ is surely not +morbid. But if it is carried out in some parts of the body at the +expense of the development of other parts, be it with reference to the +structure of the tissues or to the general growth, we have a deformity +which consists in an anomaly of development analogous to a congenital +crippling or dwarfish growth. + +There is no reason for regarding mental giants from a different point +of view. In order to judge of them, we have to inquire whether their +development is proportional, or whether there is an overdevelopment of +one part of the psychical organ at the expense of other parts, so as to +disturb their inward equilibrium and give rise to a morbid state. No +doubt, if we are to assume that whatever does not conform to the norm +is to be considered as diseased, every man mentally famous must be set +down, without further parley, as a pathological subject. This opinion +has found many advocates, who maintain that careful research signally +confirms their theory, and that most, if not all, famous men exhibit +symptoms of mental disease. + +The first writer to discuss the subject at length was Moreau de +Tours,[51] who considers genius as a positive disease of the mind, +consequent upon an overexcitation of the brain. “Genius,” he says, +“like every other intellectual condition of dynamism, necessarily has +its material substratum. This substratum is a semi-morbid state of the +brain, a true nervous erethism (orgasm or excited state), the source +of which is from this moment well known.... + +“Whenever the psychic forces surpass the ordinary limits of +their action, whether we consider them in their most elevated +manifestations--those in appearance the most independent of the +organization--or in their simplest and most rudimentary expression, +whether in the most transcendent operations of the intellect, or in the +unelaborated and almost material fact of sensation--the cause must be +sought in certain neuropathic conditions of the subjects.” + +No attempt is made by Moreau to define genius or to attach a +psychological meaning to the term. In his examples he treats all men +as geniuses who have accomplished anything famous in any department, +without regard to their psychical divergencies. He might therefore just +as well have stated his proposition in these terms: All men who have +ever accomplished anything very remarkable were insane. This seems to +be a fair statement of his real position. + +This opinion was supposed to have been completely confirmed by the +discovery of the many “morbid symptoms” which men of genius present. +Moreau collected a very considerable number of such cases, which +have been injudiciously accepted by the other authors who have +elaborated the same theme, and have received great accessions from new +discoveries. One of the most comprehensive works in this department +is that of Lombroso, whose book[52] has created a general sensation. +Extensive as it is, its author makes no attempt to define genius, but +seems to regard the meaning of the word as well settled. In the chapter +entitled The Physiology of Genius, in which we might expect to find the +writer’s opinion upon this point set forth, he tells us that men of +genius commonly have cold feet and warm heads, etc., but unfortunately +omits to inform us what he means by a man of genius. Throughout the +book all sorts of men who have ever attained any sort of eminence are +adduced as examples of men of genius. Such characters as Columbus and +Donizetti are treated promiscuously. The greatest men in the history of +art and science are placed cheek by jowl with any weak-minded persons +whose names have by some accident come before the public. Lombroso’s +conclusion is that “between the physiology of the man of genius and +the pathology of the insane there are not a few points of agreement.” +At the same time, in the book of which we are speaking, he says that +there have been men of genius who, “allowance being made for some +eccentricities of sense,” have never become insane. His list of these +“sane geniuses” is “Spinoza, Columbus, Dante, Michel Angelo,” etc.--a +wonderfully harmonious assemblage. But subsequent studies have led this +distinguished writer to modify this last opinion, and he has since +declared that “cases of genuine men of genius in which anomalies are +wanting are probably illusory. In such cases either anomalies have +escaped notice or defective data prevent our knowing of them.”[53] What +a pity that we neither know what he means by “genuine men of genius” +nor by “anomalies”! + +Before we go on to examine the numerous “morbid symptoms of genius” +which Moreau and Lombroso are supposed to have discovered, let us +briefly call to mind in what way we have come to specify certain +phenomena as symptoms of mental derangement. + +Psychiatry is, more than others, an empirical science. Whatever we +know about it we have learned by experience and observation. As I have +repeatedly insisted, neither in somatic nor in psychical medicine are +there any sharp boundaries between health and disease. In reference to +the body, “feeling well” is the chief mark of health. Everybody who +is sick knows it. Connected with the majority of diseases there are +positive pains, in consequence of which those who are taken ill send +for the doctor. Pain has rightly been called the sentinel of health; +but with the mind it is otherwise. Here there is no such connection +between health and feeling well. The illness gives no pain, at least +not directly; and the patient is in very little condition to say +whether he is well or not. On the contrary, the consciousness of being +deranged is recognised as the most marked symptom of convalescence. The +question has here to be decided in quite other ways. Disease is not an +entity, and no precise definition can be given of it. The chief point +upon which the decision must turn is the person’s ability to do his +duties to society. + +We have learned by experience that there are certain typically +recurring forms of a psychical process in which a disorder of +self-consciousness has taken place, so that the persons affected +were deprived of their self-control. We have become acquainted with +well-marked cases in which a general decay of the mental powers +commenced; and this has gone on until the capacity of the patients for +business has sunk to nothing, etc. In this purely experimental way we +have come to recognise classes of mental diseases which are marked by +certain phenomena and by a certain course. + +The next step in the progress of science was the comparison of the +psychological conditions of those who were undoubtedly insane with +mentally sane men. Here we had a right to the premises that on the +one side we had minds mentally sound, and on the other minds mentally +deranged. Having studied the psychological distinctions between the +two, psychiatrists came to recognise the so-called symptoms of insanity. + +It is important to remark that, although the aggregate of the symptoms +constitutes the disease, yet it was not the symptoms which primarily +presented themselves to our recognition. On the contrary, we first +attained it by the study of the single elements of the diseases. For +example, in early times hallucinations were explained in all sorts of +mystical ways, as seeing ghosts, divine visions, suggestions of the +devil, etc.; but by the study of mental diseases psychiatrists came +to recognise that in such cases hallucinations are extraordinarily +frequent. They thus become accustomed to consider the occurrence of +hallucinations as in every case a morbid symptom. In fact, it became +apparent that wherever there were illusions of the senses, as a rule, a +mental disorder could be made out. + +By a further study of the symptoms and of the course of mental +diseases, psychiatrists ultimately became able to diagnose mental +derangements at a time at which ordinary people would have been able +to perceive little or no alteration of the mental processes of the +patients. All this rests solely on experience. Only through experience +has it come to pass that we can now, on recognising a certain set of +symptoms, predict a certain course of the psychical process. + +Should our experiences in the department of psychiatry receive an +augmentation, we shall have every reason to be thankful; for, in spite +of all our efforts, we stand upon the threshold of the science. But +every new experience brings new difficulties with it, for it is from +experience that we have to draw our conclusions. Now, new experiences +often wreck our finest theories, in one or other of two ways--namely, +first, by not confirming them, or, secondly, by conflicting with them. +That is the way with unprejudiced tests and objective judgments. + +Accordingly, after a great number of mental maladies, such as paranoia, +progressive paralysis, certain forms of melancholia, mania, etc., had +been found to be accompanied by hallucinations as an important symptom, +the discovery was made that a great number of famous men--the so-called +men of genius--were equally subject to deceptions of the senses. What +does that show? Does it show that those men were insane? Such is the +inference drawn by Moreau and Lombroso. But is it logical? Why not +rather conclude that hallucination is not such an unfavourable symptom +as we had supposed? + +Moreau and Lombroso take it for granted that hallucinations only occur +in mental disease. How do they prove that? Do not the very facts they +adduce, if they be facts, disprove it? + +We find a man full of crazy notions, with his self-consciousness gone, +or with general loss of intelligence; and we mark him as unquestionably +insane, and proceed to study the phenomena of his mind as symptoms of +insanity. We meet another man whose achievements are positively great, +who has, all his life long, excited the admiration and astonishment +of his fellows, and who behaves in the most complete consciousness of +what he is about. Ought we not to reckon him as sane beyond a doubt, +and take his psychological processes as the very type of purely healthy +phenomena? + +Charles Lamb[54] says, “It is impossible for the mind to conceive of a +mad Shakespeare.” There is much truth in that. Shakespeare, however, +is only known to us as a poet. Goethe is a better example, because we +know him as a man as well. Indeed, we have a clearer insight into his +inmost feelings than we have into those of almost any man that ever +lived. If we wish to call up the typical idea of a perfect man we +naturally think of Goethe. Whoever came into personal contact with him +was ravished of his soul and inspired by the greatness of his mind. +Heine, the poet of the senses, greets him as a “fiery spirit with eagle +wings, as a genius of the whirlpool from top to toe”; the Christian +enthusiast Lavater terms him a genius whose characteristic was love; +the sensible Jung-Stilling regrets that so few people were acquainted +with the heart of this admirable man with the great, clear eyes, the +beautiful brow, and the stately stature; the forcible Klinger writes +that posterity will be astounded that such a man ever lived; and the +poetical philosopher Jacobi holds it as impossible for any one who had +not seen and heard Goethe to conceive of this extraordinary creation of +God. It is ridiculous to desire that he should think and act otherwise +than he does; that does not mean that no change could make him finer or +better, but that no change would be possible any more than the flower +could bloom otherwise, the grain could ripen otherwise, or the tree +could grow and crown itself otherwise than it does. When he would walk +down the Rhine between Lavater and Basedow--“a prophet to the right, a +prophet to the left, and the world-child in the middle”--there was a +picture of how he understood everybody and had something to proffer to +everybody. It was because he aimed at all-sidedness, at a full and free +humanity; and Wieland acknowledges that never in God’s world did a son +of man show himself who so combined all that was good and all that was +mighty, who so deeply impressed himself upon every soul, and yet who +lived so entirely within himself. + +In entering upon the psychological analysis of Goethe, we are justified +in assuming as a premise that we have here a case of a mentally sound +man. Whatever we may find, however uncommon it may be, must be set down +as a healthy condition. If, then, Goethe, as we have seen, was subject +to occasional illusions of sense, it would be illogical to infer that +Goethe was insane. We must rather conclude that we have been in error +if we have been supposing that deceptions of sense occur only in the +insane; and the problem set before us is to ascertain the distinction +between the hallucinations of the sane and the hallucinations of the +insane. + +It might be objected that, in spite of Goethe’s greatness of mind, +there was a supervenient morbid condition. But this assumption is +directly contradicted by the fact that deceptions of sense are +relatively frequent among famous men. Hence, even Moreau does not say +that there is a supervenient disease by the side of, and in spite of, +the mental greatness, but holds the latter to be itself a sign of +incipient insanity. + +I am therefore of the opinion that the sporadic sense-deceptions of +famous men, like other so-called “morbid symptoms of genius” which we +shall have to consider, can not be regarded as morbid symptoms, but +that they are phenomena of health which it is the task of science to +explain and account for. + +The chief condition of mental sanity, as I have already several times +remarked, is a well-proportioned development of the different psychical +factors. But as in the development of the different mental faculties, +so also in their proportion to one another, a certain latitude of +health is to be allowed. In one man fancy is preponderant; in another, +consecutive thought; while a third may have particularly strong +feelings as his characteristic. Yet we have no reason to say that these +minds transgress the border of health. It is the difference in the +relation of the different psychical elements that makes the diversity +of men’s characters. Now we know that there are no two characters in +the world that are precisely alike. It follows that there is no norm +for these relations. + +The higher the grade of development of the genius and of the +individual, the more prominent will differences of psychical factors +become, and a correspondingly greater latitude of health must be +allowed. If a sculptor models a small statue, and in doing so makes +a slight error, so that there is a difference between the two +sides, probably it will strike nobody. But let the statuette be five +times larger, and the difference will become prominent, though the +proportions should remain the same. In like manner, for persons of the +highest mental development--the so-called geniuses--we have to use a +larger measure. They appear to us like ordinary men seen through a +magnifying glass. + +We now proceed to examine the different symptoms which have been +discovered in great men, and to endeavour to ascertain the distinctions +between these and symptoms of insanity. + +Moreau and Lombroso have collected a large catalogue of famous men +who are said to have experienced hallucinations. I will not enumerate +them all, but among them are Napoleon, Luther, Bernadotte, Benvenuto +Cellini, Byron, Cardanus, Cromwell, Socrates, Brutus, etc. + +It must be remarked at the outset that all the data are extremely +doubtful. Everybody knows how the lives of great men become daubed +over with anecdotes and tales, how--in part consciously, in part +unconsciously--the facts are enveloped in a tissue of the most +wonderful legends, until each great historical figure becomes +surrounded by a nimbus. These inventions mingle with the real events; +one writer copies them from another; the original documents are lost; +and the tale becomes universally accepted as a fact. + +Every psychiatrist is well aware that it is not always an easy matter +to make certain that there are hallucinations, even when the patients +are under our eyes. Neither the testimony of the patients themselves +nor that of their guardians is, as a rule, sufficient to exclude the +possibility of error; and the physician will, in most cases, form his +judgment only upon his own personal observation. When it comes, then, +to a notice, by a writer who has copied from some previous writer, +of some hallucination that somebody is supposed to have had several +centuries ago, the fact cannot but be regarded as dubious. Plutarch, +for example, informs us that during the night before the battle of +Philippi the ghost of murdered Cæsar appeared to Brutus. Are we to +accept this as a case of hallucination, without further information, or +not? We should like to cross-examine the witness; at least to inquire +whence he got his information. But that can not be done. Here is the +whole passage:[55] “It was late one night. The tent of Brutus was dimly +lighted, and a deep silence reigned over the whole camp. He himself was +sunk in thought, when he suddenly thought he heard somebody coming. +He looked toward the door, and saw there a dreadful and extraordinary +sight. It was a dismal, frightful figure which silently stood by him. +He ventured to ask it, ‘Who art thou, man or god? What wouldst thou? +Why comest thou to me?’ The ghost answered: ‘Thy evil spirit, Brutus. +At Philippi thou shalt see me.’ And Brutus without being terrified, +answered, ‘So be it.’” + +Plutarch gives no authority for this statement. How can we determine +to-day whether the narrative has any truth in it, or whether Plutarch +has not repeated an unfounded legend? In another place[56] we read: +“During that night the spirit is said to have appeared a second time +before the eyes of Brutus. Its appearance was the same; but this +time it disappeared without uttering a word.” But Plutarch adds: “It +is true that Publius Volumnius, a philosophical man and a follower +of Brutus from the beginning to this battle, does not mention this +portent.” Plutarch thus seems to be himself doubtful about the fact. +But even supposing Brutus really told of it, would that be proof of +a hallucination? Might it not, considering that it happened in the +night, have been a vivid dream which Brutus, excited, as we may easily +imagine him to have been, mistook for a reality? + +Of Cromwell, Moreau tells us that once in his youth he was lying tired +on his bed, but not yet asleep, when a woman of gigantic stature +appeared to him and told him that he would be the greatest man of +England. But who shall prove that Cromwell, while he lay on the bed, +had not fallen asleep, so that it was only a dream? Or who will vouch +for it that the worthy Cromwell may not have been partaking of the ale +of merry England? + +To prove that Luther was a hallucinant, Lombroso adduces the following +narrative of the great reformer himself: “When, in the year 1521, I +lived in my Patmos, in a room in which nobody except two pages who +brought me my food ever set foot, one evening while I lay in bed I +heard the hazelnuts move in their sack, and quite spontaneously throw +themselves against the roof and all about where I lay. I was scarcely +asleep when I heard a great noise, as if a quantity of nuts had been +poured out. I raised myself and called out, ‘Who art thou? I commit +myself to Jesus Christ.’” Here, then, Luther himself admits that during +the last event he was asleep. This circumstance, certainly significant +to a psychiatrist, is left entirely unmentioned by Radestock, who +reports the fact. Who knows in what form the story will next appear? +Isolated hallucinations occurring at night in bed are, in all cases, +decidedly questionable. + +Hagen emphasizes this circumstance in patients: “At the commencement of +insanity, and indeed throughout its course, vivid dreams are narrated +by patients as if they were real events. They will say that they have +been to one place and another during the night, or that they have seen +heaven with all the angels. The true state of things may either be +plain enough or, when patients sophisticate the dream in their memory, +no little pains and penetration may be requisite not to be misled, so +as to take the dream for a subjective perception in the waking state.” + +This is a fair sample of the whole material; and I must openly confess +that I should not easily be induced to erect a scientific theory upon +such observations. At the same time, it is desirable to collect as +many data as possible, in order to augment our stock of knowledge of +great men. Yet we must not allow ourselves to be seduced into drawing +positive conclusions from such uncertain facts. + +But how sceptically soever we may approach these narratives, which are +certainly in part legendary, they nevertheless contain some facts which +cannot be avoided. That great men, as the example of Goethe shows, have +had illusions of sense is an undeniable fact; and this is a phenomenon +which we must endeavour to explain. + +It is to be remarked at the outset that for the correct diagnosis of +a case of hallucinations the most detailed knowledge of the phenomena +of the case is requisite, for there are most diverse varieties of +hallucinations; and their occurrence depends upon the most manifold +psychological conditions. To enter upon all the facts and upon the +different theories is, of course, not possible in this place. For such +information the reader is referred to the extensive literature of the +subject. There are only one or two points that I desire here to touch +upon in order to avail myself of the knowledge of psychiatrists for the +special inquiry now in hand. + +Since Esquirol, who first thoroughly investigated the subject, +psychiatrists have distinguished two classes of deceptions of sense. +The first are those which are not suggested by any outward appearance; +these are termed _hallucinations_. In the second there is an outward +object exciting sensations which are misinterpreted in the percept, +and filled out with imaginary details, so as to appear in a falsified +form; these phenomena are termed _illusions_. The two kinds of +phenomena pass gradually the one into the other, so that in many cases +it is impossible to distinguish between them. + +It has been remarked above that certain hallucinations of the +insane have their perfect analogue in the reproductive power of +sense-impressions. We can reproduce in the mind any object which we +have often seen. This power is developed in very different grades +in different persons. Usually the reproduced image is decidedly +weaker than its original, both in its outlines and in its colour. In +rare cases we find the reproductive power so much heightened that +the reproduced image is almost equal to the original percept. Thus +Lombroso[57] reports of a painter that “he was able to sketch as +many as three hundred portraits a year. He only needed to look at a +person attentively for half an hour, and after that could call up a +hallucinatory vision of him which he would proceed to copy in painting +with as much distinctness and confidence as if he were looking at a +real person.” This case is nothing but an intensification of a healthy +action, much to the advantage of the artist concerned. It is certainly +offensive to call such a gift by the name of hallucination. That, +however, is a mere question of the usage of language. At any rate, such +a phenomenon ought not to be confounded with insane hallucinations, +for in the painter the action was under his control. He called up +the “hallucination,” if you will call it so, when it served his +purpose to do so, and dismissed it when it had served his turn. The +hallucinations which torment and affright persons of diseased minds +arise spontaneously and will not go at the patient’s bidding. + +Meantime it is very doubtful whether the artist’s recollected image was +really as distinct and definite as the original percept. To determine +that would require evidence of a widely different kind from the report +of the writer Ball, who was Lombroso’s informant. The fact that the +painter was able to distinguish the recollected image from an object of +direct visual perception, and did not mistake the face recollected for +a face really there, would seem to show that his image differed from +a perceived image somewhat in the same manner as do the recollections +of ordinary people. But however that may be, such a phenomenon is +certainly in no wise a morbid symptom. + +Goethe describes the same faculty in himself. “My sensuous, +apprehensive power is of so unusual a sort that I retain all outlines +and forms most sharply in my memory; but I am moved in the most +lively way by misshapen and defective forms.... Without that capacity +for sharp apprehension and impression I could not have produced my +characters so vividly and sharply individualized. This distinctness +and precision led me, for many years, to entertain the delusion that I +possessed a vocation and talent for drawing and painting.” + +If we consider Goethe, as above suggested, as an ordinary man whose +mental powers are seen under a magnifying glass, we shall find it quite +a matter of course that the intensity of his reproduced images should +be increased relatively to the intensity of his directly perceived +images in the same proportion as all the other psychical factors. +Hence, if we find that the distinctness of his perception is not +exceeded by that of his memory, this is a phenomenon which differs +as widely as possible from an insane hallucination, and it betokens +rashness and want of good sense to call his condition morbid. + +In another passage Goethe describes a state dependent partly upon +an excitation of the retina and partly upon heightened ideation, so +falling into the class, not of hallucinations, but of illusions: “If I +shut my eyes and, letting my head hang down, thought of a flower in +the middle of my field of vision, it did not endure an instant in its +first shape, but separated, and from its interior a new flower unfolded +itself of coloured and also green leaves. It was not a natural flower, +but a fantastic yet regular one, like the conventionalized rosettes of +the carver. It was impossible to fix the sprouting creation; yet it +lasted as long as it was pleasing to me, without fading and without +brightening. I could produce the same effect by thinking of the +ornament of a variegated disk; and this immediately underwent a change +starting at the middle and proceeding to the periphery, just like the +subsequently invented kaleidoscope.” + +Just as sense-impressions can be simply called back to memory, so also +new combinations arise by fancy, which therefore have the character +of original creations. In persons whose fancy is powerful, the images +of fancy, altogether in the same way as those of memory, can become +so clear and distinct as to be very near to actual percepts. Lombroso +reports: “The painter Montina thought he saw his pictures before him +before he had painted them. When one day somebody stood between him and +the place where he thought he saw his picture he bade him stand aside, +so as to let him see what he was painting from.”[58] + +Here again the image was voluntarily excited, so that a doubt must +remain as to whether it equalled a real sense image in clearness. The +painter’s bidding anybody who stood in the way to step aside was quite +a matter of course. When we wish to reproduce a former impression of +sense we try first to shut out all other impressions of that sense. +When we wish to call up the image of a person we always shut our eyes. +With open eyes most people are, however, capable of making such a +reproduction, provided that none but lifeless objects are in the field +of vision. But in talking to one person and fixing the traits of his +countenance, few people are able to call up the image of another person +at the same time. In the same way, very few can recall one melody while +another is heard. + +Such phenomena are by no means rare among artists of lively fancy. +They have nothing in common with the hallucinations of insanity. +Hagen, therefore, calls them pseudo-hallucinations, Baillarger +psychical hallucinations, and Kahlbaum apperceptional hallucinations. +Von Krafft-Ebing[59] says: “Among artists this gift is found both in +a simply reproductive and also in a fancifully deforming mode. The +striking art of delineation of many an eminent dramatic artist, the +plastic power of description of a Goethe, Ossian, or Homer, suggest +such an endowment. Among some composers, too, the fineness of the +instrumentation and the timbre of their tone poems lead us to suspect +a specially fine and lively faculty of reproduction of their acoustic +memory. Persons extraordinarily gifted in sensuous faculties can create +hallucinations more easily than do those who are poor in fancy and who +live in the realm of abstract ideas. This will readily be admitted. +Even their recollections can sometimes be voluntarily raised to a +plastic distinctness approaching hallucination.” + +So far, we have only considered cases in which deceptions of sense +were voluntarily called up, whether by a specially strong faculty of +reproduction or by a play of fancy. The subjects were quite aware that +the object before them was fantastic and not real. + +On the other hand, it is recorded of a considerable number of famous +men in different departments that they have had deceptions of the +senses which arose independently of their will, and were consequently +genuine hallucinations. Among these we must place many religious +visions, such as those of St. Paul and other saints. Luther insists +that he often saw the devil; and on one celebrated occasion he threw +the inkstand at him. + +Whether such deceptions of sense are to be regarded as morbid or not +opinions differ. Many psychiatrists speak of hallucinations, and +consider them compatible with complete health. Others hold that they +are always symptoms of mental disorder. Hagen[60] occupies a peculiar +position on this question, for he takes hallucinations to be invariably +morbid symptoms, yet not symptoms of mental disease. This is connected +with his theory that hallucination is a phenomenon of convulsion of +certain blood vessels which I cannot here further set forth. + +There is a quite arbitrary separation of psychical and somatic +conditions at the bottom of this view. What Hagen means is, that the +cause, or somatic concomitant, of the hallucination is a convulsion. +It is presumable that every mental process whatever has a somatic +concomitant, or “cause,” in the organic vehicle of the soul. +Hallucinations may have different somatic concomitants from other +mental processes, but they cannot be supposed to be peculiar in merely +having somatic concomitants. There are some diseases of the brain +which are accompanied by no symptoms of derangement of the mind, and +are therefore exclusively somatic diseases. But just as soon as the +stimulation of a path of sense enters into a psychical metamorphosis, +we have to do with a mental process. If this is morbid, we have to do +with a symptom of mental disease. + +That which determines Hagen to pronounce hallucination under all +circumstances to be a proof of a morbid state is its relative +infrequency. “Hallucination is in every case a condition departing from +the norm.” But if everything which “departs from the norm” is to be +called morbid, then we return to the proposition that genius is morbid, +since it “departs from the norm”; for the “normal” man is a tradesman +and no “genius.” But I can only meet Hagen with his own maxim, “Quod +sola affirmatione affirmatur, sola negatione negatur.” + +It is a fact of daily observation that hallucinations can be produced +by suggestion, and that not only in hypnosis but in the ordinary +condition. If a woman who has never been electrified, and is therefore +somewhat nervous, has the electrodes of a galvanic battery placed +upon her head without the circuit being closed, while the faradic +apparatus is caused to sound, she will not seldom imagine she feels the +current distinctly, and perhaps complain that it is too strong. Though +there is no current, the woman is positive she feels it. Every inward +excitation, especially every emotion, favours such deceptions. + +A timid or superstitious person is liable, in crossing a churchyard +at night, to see figures, hear voices, etc. These deceptions may be +of the class of illusions, shadows of trees being taken for ghosts, +and the noise of the foliage for spiritual voices; or they may be pure +hallucinations, the pseudo-perceptions not being formed by any outward +sensations. An interesting case is described by H. Moore:[61] + +“A whole ship’s crew were thrown into consternation by the ghost of +the cook, who had died a few days before. He was distinctly seen by +all of them walking on the water with a peculiar gait by which he was +distinguished, one of his legs being shorter than the other. The cook, +so plainly recognised, was only a piece of an old wreck.” + +A child endowed with a rich fancy, whose mother has died, may, in the +emotion of the pain and the excitement, see her image in heaven or +hear her voice. Such phenomena are by no means rare. They depend upon +a rich and vivid fancy and a powerful emotion of the heart. This play +of fancy, called forth by emotions and moods, has never been better +described, in its external resemblance to insanity, than by Shakespeare +in the Midsummer Night’s Dream: + + Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, + Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend + More than cool reason ever comprehends. + The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, + Are of imagination all compact: + One sees more devils than vast hell can hold-- + That is the madman: the lover, all as frantic, + Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt: + The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, + Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, + And, as imagination bodies forth + The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen + Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing + A local habitation and a name. + Such tricks hath strong imagination; + That, if it would but apprehend some joy, + It comprehends some bringer of that joy; + Or, in the night, imagining some fear, + How easy is a bush supposed a bear. + +Deceptions of sense arising in this way have their origin in the most +central part of the organ of mind. They are consequences of ideas. Such +hallucinations occur, of course, in the insane, and to distinguish +them from those of peripheric origin--that is, from those that are +independent of the thoughts that immediately preceded them--Kahlbaum +terms them centrifugal hallucinations, or phantasms. + +As an example of such a phantasm we may instance a well-known +hallucination of Goethe, who, when he was once riding to Gesenheim, +saw his own counterpart riding toward him. “I saw myself coming along +the same path on horseback toward me, dressed, as I had never been, in +pike-gray and gold. I shook myself out of the dream, and the figure +was gone. But it is singular that eight years later, not at all by +choice but only by chance, I found myself riding over the same path +in the very direction my visionary self took, and clad in just those +clothes, being again on my way to Frederica. Whatever the explanation +of these things may be, the wonderful phantom gave me at that moment of +separation some alleviation.” + +The emotion excited by the separation from Frederica was enough, with +Goethe’s lively fancy, to produce the phantom. Goethe himself judged +his condition quite correctly. He recognised the shape as a fallacious +one and said, “I shook myself out of this dream, and the figure was +gone.” It is very characteristic of the condition that Goethe should +himself class it along with dreams. Obviously, the actual impressions +of sight were, at the time of hallucination, not apperceived; and all +that Goethe thought he saw at that moment was a painting of fancy, +parts of the hallucination being superposed upon and congruent with the +objects that had been seen an instant before. Goethe further says that +the phantom gave him consolation and relief. It thus evidently answered +to his thoughts; and we can presume that his fancy prefigured to him +the moment when he should again visit Frederica. + +The circumstance of hallucinations being recognised as such by the +subject or not, is no more decisive for the diagnosis of the case +than is the simple occurrence of deception of sense. Whether the +hallucination is recognised as such or not depends more upon its +contents and upon the metaphysical opinions, religious turn of mind, +and superstition of the subject. Luther believed in the existence of a +personal devil. His hallucination was the outcome of this belief--that +is, of his ideas. Consequently his holding the fallacious object to be +real was no insane opinion, but was in consonance with his metaphysics. +So it is with the visions of saints and prophets. We may admit that +a considerable number of them were insane, but the hallucinations +do not suffice to prove that every one of them was so. He who has +devoted his whole life to religious meditations and tendencies and +is fully convinced of the truth of his faith, who is penetrated with +belief in the presence of a personal God, personal angels, tutelary +spirits, etc., may, on an occasion of strong emotion, with a moderately +lively fancy, have visions and hear voices, and hold them for real, +without in the slightest degree justifying a suspicion of insanity. +Such hallucinations, called forth by _suggestion_ or auto-suggestion, +occur less infrequently in men endowed with fancy. While Benvenuto +Cellini was praying that God would once more let him see the sunlight +a hallucination came to him. It was that of a landscape with the sun +shining upon it. Napoleon, before important events, battles, etc., +saw his star in the sky. Pascal, in consequence of a great fright, +saw a precipice before him. If we are to accept Plutarch’s story, the +hallucination of Brutus is explicable in the same way. + +The question whether hallucinations always betoken some unsoundness +of mind can not be answered from a theoretical standpoint. Like the +whole of psychiatry, it is a question of experience. Should experience +show that hallucinations occur only among those whose minds are +disordered, then we should be right in considering them as symptoms +of derangement. But it is not so. Experience shows that sane persons, +especially men of lively fancy, like great artists and poets, are +subject to hallucinations; and though such phenomena are exceptional, +and in that sense may be called not “normal,” yet nothing could be +more preposterous than to regard all those great men as subject to +occasional disorders of mind, or as approaching insanity in any way. + +I have shown above what an influence emotion can exert upon all the +organs of the body. A permanent acceleration of the pulse is, as +we know by experience, always a morbid symptom. But would it ever +occur to a pathologist to pronounce a person diseased because some +emotion--such as fright, anxiety, or joy--made his heart beat faster? +Emotion may produce in one man beating of the heart, in another +vasomotor phenomena, such as blushing or blanching, and in a third any +one of manifold nervous states, without there being anything morbid +in those effects. In men of uncommonly strong fancy the emotion may +sometimes call up supervenient hallucinations. But that is merely a +phenomenon analogous to the beating of the heart, which we observe +every day, except that it is relatively infrequent. + +Hallucinations that are held to be true always make us fear for the +preservation of an unclouded self-consciousness and of an unfalsified +reaction between the ego and the outer world. In deciding whether, in a +given case, hallucinations are to be denominated morbid, the decisive +circumstance will be whether and how far the self-consciousness and +free will have been influenced, and whether and how far responsibility +for actions has been diminished. + +Besides hallucinations, other phenomena connected with the rich fancy +of famous poets and artists have many points of similarity with +symptoms of insanity, and in many cases may lead to actual insanity. + +Although we have seen that in Goethe’s case the gushing fancy was +always in harmony with the high faculty of his intellect, and that, in +spite of the apparent independence of his fancy, it was nevertheless +directed by the purpose of an intellectual will, yet in many poets +we find this harmonic interaction seriously disturbed and the inward +equilibrium deranged. Alfieri calls his condition during composition +a fever. He says:[62] “That part of composition which I have called +creation is a fever, and during its access one feels nothing else.” And +in another passage: “The whole day I pondered as I always do as soon +as the fever by means of which I begin and carry through a work seizes +me, I know not how.” + +Byron owns that his poetry is the dream of sleeping passions. If he +be awakened, he can not speak its language, which he only knows while +sleepwalking. Any shock or effort awakens the elasticity of his mind +and always makes him what he must be. Of the third canto of Childe +Harold, he says: “It is a fine piece of poetical desolation, and +my favourite. I was half mad, during the time of its composition, +between metaphysics, mountains, lakes, love inextinguishable, thoughts +unutterable, and the nightmare of my own delinquencies. I should, many +a good day, have blown my brains out but for the recollection that it +would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.”[63] His biographer, +Moore, says that Byron saw only the reflection of his own brilliant +ideas in every new object. + +Although such conditions are not quite pathological, yet they stand +hard by the borders of insanity, and certainly indicate a decided +disposition to mental derangement. Byron often fell into a state of +melancholia, and showed manifest defects of a moral kind. + +One of the most peculiar symptoms of some deranged minds is lying. All +authors, without exception, who have treated of hysteria, emphasize +lying as one of the most characteristic symptoms of that malady. +Charcot[64] is astonished at the perseverance and energy with which +hysterical patients understand how to deceive those about them. +Numerous examples of the same phenomenon are recorded by Morel[65], +Lasègne,[66] and others. Delbrück[67] has described a special form +of morbid lying, and has proposed for it the designation “pseudologia +phantastica.” As a general rule, this lying is not motived by personal +interest, as, for example, to escape punishment or to attain some +advantage; but it is some creation of fancy which is narrated as a +true event. Such patients, mostly weak-minded, possess, in consequence +of their small intellectual powers, a fancy very rich in proportion +to their intellectual function. Such persons sometimes narrate whole +romances as true occurrences, and may, upon superficial consideration, +be taken for intellectual. Dr. Paul Sollier[68] also paints this +symptom: “Among imbeciles, in opposition to idiots, an ungoverned +imagination is often observed. This shows itself in their love of +grotesque comparisons, which prove that they are capable of associating +disparate ideas only remotely related to one another. This tendency is +sometimes carried to an extraordinary pitch, and gives them a false +air of being bright. On the other hand, we know how mendacious they +are. They are all more or less so. They do not content themselves with +simply denying anything of which they are accused. They invent a story +quite different from the truth. Some of them do not stop at distorting +the facts, but insert additional details, or make a story out of whole +cloth. They not only do this to clear themselves, or to throw the blame +on their comrades, but even when it is to their disadvantage--boasting +of tricks they have not played, for the purpose of exciting interest +and admiration.” + +While in imbeciles this impulse to express such pictures of fancy is +to be regarded as a consequence of a degradation of intelligence, a +similar condition is found in poetical men, owing to an overdevelopment +of the ideation and the fancy. Hence it becomes interesting to trace +out this phenomenon of “pseudologia phantastica” in the childhood of +poets. Delbrück adduces as examples Goethe and Gottfried Keller, both +of whom themselves remarked this symptom of their childhood. Goethe +tells how he narrated to his schoolmates histories drawn from his +fancy as actual events, and how he himself often wondered at their +believing him. Later he passes this judgment: “Had I not gradually, in +conformity with my nature, learned to convert these forms of air and +empty boastings into artistic productions, such swaggering beginnings +would certainly not have been without bad consequences to me. If this +impulse be accurately observed, there may be recognised in it the same +pretension with which the poet, as such, sets forth dictatorially the +most improbable thing and requires the reader to take for true what in +any sense appears true to him, the inventor.” + +In the previous chapter a characteristic of great poets and artists was +described under the name of the impulse to expression, whose analogue +in great men of a different constitution of mind, especially in those +who follow science, takes the form of a creative impulse. This impulse +which prompts the true artist to abandon himself unselfishly to his art +and to produce what nobody has demanded, and spurs the scientific man +to untiring research and opens to him new paths, is the most important +mark of the truly great man. Hagen[69] says: “Just as the instinct +of the beast impels him to certain actions though they cost him his +life, so is it originally far less a conscious purpose than a force +of nature which impels genius to producing, versifying, endeavouring. +He is filled with one idea, and divided interests are impossible for +him. A heroic genius, an Alexander or a Napoleon, conquers continually, +not from mere desire of glory or of rule, but because it is his +nature to make war upon others, and because continual victory is his +natural need. In like manner the scientific genius knows no rest, but +forever places before itself a new problem. It must equally always +be conquering. The artist must ever be producing. Each man’s action +appears to him to be free choice. In reality it is so only in a very +narrow sense. Genius acts less because it would than because it must.” + +So says Schopenhauer:[70] “Everything comes at last to this question, +Where does the first motive--the _Ernst_--of the man lie? For almost +everybody it lies exclusively in his own well-being and that of those +that belong to him. Hence he is able to further that and nothing else, +for no deliberate purpose, no voluntary and intentional excitation, can +borrow the true, deep, personal _Ernst_, nor produce it, nor rightly +replace it; for such a purpose is an attempt to wrench Nature; nor +without _Ernst_ can anything be but half willed. For the same reason, +persons of genius look out ill for their own well-being. As a leaden +counterpoise will always bring a body back to the situation which +its centre of gravity requires, so the true _Ernst_ of the man ever +carries the force and attention of his intellect back to where it lies; +everything else the man desires without true _Ernst_. Hence only those +rare abnormal men, whose true _Ernst_ does not lie in the personal and +practical but in the objective and the theoretical, are able to embrace +the essences of things and of the world as the highest truths, and to +render them again. For such an _Ernst_, falling without the individual +in the objective, is something foreign to human nature--something +unnatural and supernatural. Yet by that alone is man great. And in +accordance with that is what he does ascribed to something different +from himself--namely, to his genius, which takes possession of him. +Such a man has no ulterior purpose behind his images, his poems, or his +thoughts; and everything personal is but means to those as end. Other +men seek the main chance, and generally know how to advance themselves, +for they insinuate themselves with their contemporaries, ready to +subserve their needs and whims. Hence they live, for the most part, in +good circumstances, while the externally centred man is in misery. For +he sacrifices his well-being to his objective end. He can not help it. +There lies his _Ernst_. With them it is the reverse; and that is why +they are small and he is great. His work is for all time, though the +recognition of it generally begins in future ages. But they live and +die with their day.” + +This _Ernst_ of the man of which Schopenhauer here speaks corresponds +exactly with the above-described impulse to expression and to creation. +The neglect of personal interests, the entire abandonment to his work, +the restless strife for an ideal, are characteristics of the great man. + +Here again we remark a surprising similitude between the so-called +genius and many forms of insanity. But it is merely a similitude, and +not an affinity, as Lombroso, Hagen, and others take it to be. For +affinity supposes a community of essence deeper than mere similitude of +external phenomena. It is this latter alone that we meet with here. The +causal conditions are separated by the whole diameter of being. + +In great artists and scholars on the one hand, and in the insane on +the other, there is a great irresistible impulse which fills them +to overflowing and makes them forget all personal considerations. +But while in the former the restless compulsion to create, the hot +aspiration, is the kernel of the highest and noblest perfection of +man, in the latter there is a morbid impulse which is usually directed +to the silliest things. Formerly such a state was called a monomania, +since this irresistible impulse seemed to be the only pathological +symptom; but careful observation has shown that there is always a +more general psychical malady, usually the consequence of arrested +development. It is perfectly astonishing with what tenacity and +untiring persistence such patients go to work. Trélat[71] reports a +suitable example as follows: + +“M. de W. is forty-five years old. He lives almost all the time shut up +in his room, where he is supposed to be carrying on serious studies. +He is seldom seen, and when he is seen complains of headache caused +by overwork and the fatigue of his continued night labours. He has an +amiable and accomplished wife. People talk to her about the health of +her husband, and how wrong it is for him to misuse his forces, and +beg her to influence him to pursue his studies with less ardour. She +answers sadly that all her endeavours are vain; but she does nothing +to shake the conviction of his friends, although she knows very well +what she has to endure in this difficult situation. The poor lady is +absorbed by her attempts to maintain the sense and dignity of her +husband. + +“In fact, he employs the whole time passed in his room in counting how +often the same letter--_s_, or _t_, or _g_, or _z_--occurs in Genesis, +in Exodus, in Leviticus, in Numbers, in Deuteronomy, in the books of +Kings, in the books of Chronicles, in the book of Jesus the Son of +Sirach, in the Song of Solomon, in the book of Revelation, etc. How +many pages in one book begin with a _p_, with a _b_, with an _a_; how +many end with a _t_, with a _c_, etc. + +“Other studies of such seriousness as to cause this man of science +to pass a fortnight without any attention to his toilette, or even +washing himself, consist in counting all the contradictions he can find +in the same author. Having passed one, two, or three years without +interruption in these works, this indefatigable worker throws himself +with the same ardour into taking his watch to pieces, down to its +minutest parts, and putting it together again. During six months he +undoes every morning what he had completed the night before. Everybody +who calls upon him receives the invariable answer, Monsieur is too busy +to be disturbed. Everybody thinks that this writer is too modest to +publish his book, and will leave behind Titanic works. The poor wife +alone contrives to procure to so utter a nonentity honour and esteem to +the last day of his life.” + +Here is a state of compulsory counting termed arithmomania. A great +variety of such symptoms are distinguished. These interest us less +as such, at present, than does the way in which they come about, the +complete absorption of the mental action in the impulse, which shows +much resemblance to the creative impulse of men of genius. + +Those patients exhibit the same phenomena who may be termed inventors +and Utopians. They not seldom sacrifice their means and bring +themselves and their families to ruin by their unconquerable desire +of making inventions and discoveries. They are fully convinced, in +their folly, of the epoch-making importance of their improvements, +and all pains are lost to cause them to desist from their ridiculous +performances. + +Morel had a patient who thought he could alter the weather and bring on +rain. Lombroso reports the case of a patient who wrote a book entitled +Dominatmosphere, in which he undertook to teach husbandmen how to +get two annual harvests, and to put sailors in possession of a means +of blowing the winds out of their way. The alchemists, who forfeited +their lives in trying to make gold, the searchers for the philosopher’s +stone, were, for the most part, weak-minded persons of this sort. +In modern times perpetual motion has been one of the great objects +of crazy inventors. Trélat knew a man who had brought his family to +want by his discoveries and inventions. He asserted that in order to +bring a wheel into perpetual motion nothing was wanted but a supply of +still water. In every discussion he objected to the competence of his +opponent. To put an end to this, the physician of Bicêtre carried him +to Arago, who proved to him that his inventions would not work. The +poor devil was taken aback for an instant and burst into tears; but in +a moment he raised his head and exclaimed with confidence, “No matter! +Arago is mistaken!” + +We have seen in the preceding chapter how important a part feelings and +moods play in the psychical processes of great artists. In opposition +to students, in whom the turning point of their mental action lies in +the understanding, in artists moods and feelings are often the starting +point of their productions. Hence we find that in them this part of +the mental organ has not infrequently an enormous development. As with +the other psychical characters, so likewise here we find that the high +refinement of a single factor--always, however, in just proportion +to the total action of the organ--produces outward phenomena having +some similarity with those states which are due to disturbed inward +equilibrium, and which we often have occasion to observe in the insane. + +“Exulting to heaven, to death beaten down,” expresses a temperament not +uncommon among great poets and artists, causing those oscillations of +moods which justify that reproach of caprice which is often addressed +to them. This is one of the commonest symptoms of mental disease, above +all of hysteria. But the similarity between the phenomena is merely +external. They are rooted in widely divergent causal conditions. The +practised psychiatrist will distinguish without difficulty between +changes of mood such as Goethe observed in himself, which had their +origin in the highest refinement of the psychical organism, and the +capriciousness of a hysterical woman at whose bidding there stands +always ready, in case of need, a rich well of tears, whose sluices have +but to be opened to allow the never-drained stream to flow. + +The restless energy of great men--who, with a new goal before their +eyes, press ceaselessly forward, and who, as soon as they have climbed +one height of science or of art, see new heights rise before them yet +to be essayed--keeps them in continual discontent with themselves and +their performances. + + Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him + As forward, onward ever must endure; + Whose over-hasty impulse drave him + Past earthly joys he might secure. + Dragged through the wildest life will I enslave him + Through flat and stale indifference; + With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him + That to his hot, insatiate sense, + The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him; + Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore. + Had he not made himself the devil’s, naught could save him, + Still were he lost forevermore![72] + +In this destiny of Faust, Goethe painted his own sensations, and, like +a genuine poet, in the particular touched the general. Goethe felt +within him the restless mind which “drave him past earthly joys.” +He himself acknowledged that he could scarce call four weeks of his +life happy. His feeling of misery incited him sometimes to thoughts +of suicide, though he was always able to master it. He says: “Among a +fine collection of arms I possessed a costly and sharp poniard. This +I always placed beside my bed, and before I put out the light I would +consider whether it would suit me to strike the sharp point a couple of +inches into my breast or not; but since it never did suit, I laughed +myself out of the habit, and, casting aside hypochondriacal grimaces, +concluded to live.” + +Happiness and contentment are feelings denied to truly great men. And +hence, as Aristotle says, those who have been eminent in philosophy, +politics, poetry, and art have been predisposed to melancholy. But +this kind of melancholy is as different as possible from pathological +melancholia. Far from being of a morbid nature, it is an inevitable and +eminently sane consequence of the psychical constitution of such men. + +In contrast to it stands the self-satisfied good humour of degenerate +simpletons, who are always convinced of their own merits and live in +the most comfortable self-conceit. The dissatisfaction of the great +man, which finds no relief but in creation and in ceaseless endeavour, +is the noblest mainspring of the human race, to which all civilization +is due. + +In the mode of life of great men we shall find much that departs from +the everyday habits of the conventional son of Adam. The Philistine, to +whom all that is unusual appears unsuitable, is often heard to remark +that great artists and scholars are all a little crazy. He says so +because he unthinkingly confounds the uncommon with the irrational. +The thinker will judge otherwise. The psychologist’s business is to +ascertain the causes of these phenomena. + +Lombroso has, in his psychological researches into genius, adduced +many such phenomena, and has dwelt upon their incontestable similarity +with the symptoms of many insane patients. “What is observed in the +insane has been asserted of the man of genius--that he walks solitary +in the world, and solitary departs from it, a stranger to the warmth +of family life and untouched by the charms of society.”[73] But this +is not precisely the fact. History sufficiently assures us that great +men are frequently by no means strangers to family feeling. But what +is observable in great men is that they are relatively indifferent to +everything which does not answer to their inward endeavours, that the +ideas of which they are full absorb their attention, and that they +consequently seem uninterested in what goes on about them. For this +reason the genius, like the madman, has been called a stranger to the +world. + +As we have already said, such egotism as often characterizes the +insane is in the great man impossible. Self-forgetfulness is the first +condition of true greatness. Nor is it accurate to call the poet or +artist a stranger to the world. We have seen that Goethe had a rare +insight into the world; nor can we conceive of a true poet without +knowledge of the world. Jürgen Meyer is quite right when he says: “A +poet who should sing what he had not seen and heard, but what he freely +imagined without any experience of life, must sing without vitality. +Creative fancy requires supplies from life, and can not draw its +wondrous threads from out of its own body as a silkworm does.”[74] + +Here, as before, the similarity is merely external, and the determining +causes are essentially different. + +If the conduction of impressions over the nerves of sense is impaired +or destroyed, so that the individual concerned is in a measure cut off +from the external world, his attention will naturally be more directed +to his inner life. Hence it is that people who become deaf or blind are +apt to seem selfish. But without any defect of the conduction of the +nerves a loss of perceptions may be brought about by a weakening of +the perceptive centres or of the paths of association. Such weakening, +which, in degenerate subjects, is not seldom very considerable, will, +of course, result in a preponderance of inward perceptions. If there +is a concurrent want of power of concentration of the attention upon +outward things, as there generally is, we have the type of a person of +weak mind, who is unable to comprehend the relations of things about +him, who, occupied with himself, remains a stranger to the world, and +who displays a characteristic selfishness and vanity. + +No doubt poets and artists, as well as scholars, often exhibit an +outward appearance of self-absorption and of indifference to their +surroundings. This is common to them with many of the insane.[75] But +how disparate are the causes underlying these phenomena! With the +weak-minded it is the want of power to concentrate the attention which +renders them uninterested and indifferent to the outward world; but +with poets and scholars it is, on the contrary, the high degree of that +power which brings about similar phenomena. As we know, the centrifugal +condition which we term attention not only extends its power to the +organ of sense whose action is emphasized, but it must also be able to +order off all the rest of the impressions of sense. The great thinker +appears uninterested in surrounding things because his whole attention +is directed to the well-ordered sequence of his logical thoughts, to +which end, with fullest consciousness, the outward impressions are +ordered off. The weak-minded man is present at a performance. The +sounds of the words of the orator ring in his ears, but the slightest +outward or inward impression suffices to make his attention wander. His +thoughts ramble. They are everywhere and nowhere. The mentally gifted +man, on the contrary, constantly has his mind on the matter in hand. If +he wishes to concentrate his thoughts upon an outward object, nothing +that takes place is able to escape him. His attention is stronger than +the promiscuous spontaneous suggestions; and outward impressions of +sense which do not relate to the matter in hand will not be apperceived. + +The average man, when he walks the street, perceives all the +impressions that strike his senses. He meets, we will say, two persons +whom he knows, both of whom look him full in the face and fail to +recognise him. They pass him by, and at the next crossing are nearly +run over because they do not hear or see a coming vehicle. One of them +is an idiot. His attention is not concentrated upon anything. He is +drowsy, his thoughts breed lawlessly around, without being directed +by his will. The second is a learned man who is occupied in solving a +scientific problem. He is deep in his logical train of thought, and the +requisite attention has ordered off all outward impressions of sense. + +We see, then, that we have here a phenomenon common to the idiot and +the genius. Yet how contrary are the causes of the two phenomena! + +Lombroso sets up insensibility to heat and cold, to hunger and thirst, +as a phenomenon common to genius and insanity. He brings forward this +example: + +“When Beethoven had sat down to compose, and Newton to study a +mathematical problem, they so completely forgot the needs of the +stomach that they would scold the servant who brought them a meal, +under the impression that they had already eaten.” + +To explain this abstractedness Lombroso says: + +“The unnatural tension of the power of sensation, and the consequent +drain of all the forces and faculties, is undoubtedly the cause of this +surprising behaviour found equally among men of genius and among the +insane.” + +I do not think it is accurate to refer these peculiarities of genius to +a “draining” or exhaustion. On the contrary, I would rather explain +it by the heightening of the mental action. In the concentration of +the attention upon inward conditions, in which, as we have seen, the +impressions of all organs of sense not directly concerned are ordered +off, the feeling of hunger will not be perceived. Nor need one be +either a genius or a fool to forget eating and drinking over an arduous +work. Moreover, in extreme idiots, who are unable to concentrate their +attention at all, as a rule a bestial impulse to eat is observable. + +The insane refuse to take nourishment, or forget their bodily needs, +from a great variety of causes. In one case, like that of a sane +man immersed in his work, the attention may be directed to inward +processes, and all the other impressions of sense may be ordered off. +Only, the patient’s inward process, instead of consisting in an ordered +sequence of thoughts, is composed of hallucinations, which foster his +whole attention; or he may have religious visions which so completely +absorb all his senses that he not only feels no hunger but is +insensible to all physical pain whatever. Another patient may decline +food because he thinks himself persecuted, and believes the food is +poisoned. A hallucinatory subject refuses to eat because a voice from +heaven has forbidden him to do so. A victim of melancholia does not eat +because he thinks himself too great a criminal to receive God’s gift. +A hypochondriac imagines his stomach is not in condition to digest +food, and will not take food for that reason. Another may be unable +to assign any reason for not eating, but still he will not do so. The +outward effect is the same in all these cases. It is the business of +the psychiatrist to trace out the causes, and thus diagnostically to +estimate the symptom. + +We thus see that neither the psychologist nor the psychiatrist ought +to be content to observe behaviour superficially, but must trace out +the motive of it in order to draw any inference from it. The most +absurd conduct sometimes has reasons consistent with health, while +conduct which would not surprise a layman at all may be regarded by a +psychiatrist as a well-recognised symptom of insanity. + +A further explanation of many peculiarities of men of genius is to be +sought in their relations to the society in which they live. A man +with a reputation for high talents, distinguished from his youth for +his superiority and genius, always has his circle of admirers with its +proportion of flatterers. If he had the misfortune to be a precocious +child he will have been accustomed from his earliest youth to the idea +that his genius is far above ordinary men and above the rules that +apply to those men. If such a man is, in later years, attacked by a +competent critic upon this or that point, or if schools and parties are +formed unfavourable to his method, whether in art or in science, he +will, of course, react otherwise than a man would do who was accustomed +to opposition of every description. He will, perhaps, regard his just +critic as a personal enemy; he will complain that he is misunderstood +by his contemporaries, and his passion may go so far that the public at +large, and superficial observers among psychiatrists, may consider him +to be the victim of a delusion of persecution. + +Peculiar inclinations and other mental idiosyncrasies of men of +genius can mostly be very readily explained. Everybody accustomed +psychologically to study and dissect those whom he meets, so far +as opportunity is afforded, is familiar with the remark that each +individual of the human race has his peculiarities, more or less odd, +his “weaknesses,” his _locus minoris resistentiæ_, as we say in somatic +medicine. + +The ordinary man, if he has the least breeding, has been accustomed +from his youth up to hold in check one inclination or another which +violates the usages of society, or even perhaps of good morals. He +has learned to attend sufficiently to his own conduct not to allow +habits to take root which might appear unusual or be disagreeable to +others. But the man of genius is far too much governed by his inward +processes, his fancy, and his work, to pay attention to trifling +details of manner. He therefore appears what he really is, while the +average man would not do this. Consequently chance peculiarities and +special inclinations appear in the former more than in the latter. + +Thus it is that the behaviour of great men is not to be measured by +the same standard as that of others, that we have to take account of +the motives of their actions, and that the psychical conditions must +be kept in view if we are to draw any trustworthy inferences from +their behaviour. Those mighty natures must be judged from their own +organization, and not from the Philistine standpoint of the so-called +average man. + +As a further proof of the affinity of genius to insanity it has been +alleged that a great number of eminent men have actually had attacks of +insanity. Among poets are mentioned Lucretius, Tasso (who suffered from +periodical melancholia with hallucinations and fits of excitement), +Lenau, Swift, and Reinhold Lenz (who died insane). Hölderlin was +thoroughly mad during the greater part of his life. Lessmann suffered +from melancholy and committed suicide. Von Sonnenberg, Southey, and +Ben Jonson were likewise attacked by insanity. Molière had repeated +fits of melancholy. Rousseau suffered during much of his life from +insanity.[76] Gutzkow and Cowper were insane; also the French poets +Berthes, Dubellay, Duboys, Bataille, Baudelaire, and Guy de Maupassant. +Kleist, Merk, Raimund, Stieglitz, Louise Brachmann, and Nerval +committed suicide. + +Insane students of nature were Swammerdam (who was attacked with +_melancholia religiosa_, thinking he had insulted God, and therefore +burned his writings) and Albrecht von Haller (who was also melancholy). +The mathematician Bolyai, Cardan, and Johann Georg Zimmermann were +likewise insane. So was the celebrated physiologist Johannes Müller, +who committed suicide. + +Among insane philosophers may be mentioned Auguste Comte and Engel. + +Of composers who were attacked by insanity, Schumann and Donizetti are +examples. Gounod had a superinduced insanity. + +Insane painters were van Goes, van Leyden, Wiertz, Carlo Dolce, etc. + +The question whether we are justified, from the alleged frequency of +insanity among famous men, to draw any conclusion whatever--as, for +example, in regard to a predisposition to insanity among great minds, +more than among average men--or that there is an intimate connection +between genius and insanity, can only be answered from the standpoint +of experience. + +That is to say, it can only be based upon severely critical +statistics. But we are very far from possessing any data that are even +approximately sufficient. If we are to go to work scientifically, of +what use can a list of famous men who have been insane be to us? Even +were the number of examples multiplied by ten, what could be inferred? +The question is not whether there have been great men who were insane, +but whether the proportion of those who have at some period of their +lives been attacked by insanity of different types has been markedly +greater or less among famous personages than among the general run of +mankind. + +In order to decide this, we should be in a condition to state with +exactitude what the percentage of insane among the total population +was at a given period of history, how many men of genius there were +at that time, and how many of these were insane? Such researches +must be repeated at different times of history; then, if they were +irreproachably exact and sufficient, it would be possible that some +conclusion might be drawn. But we can not even make such comparisons +for the present day, far less for bygone ages. The most we can do +to-day is to count the inmates of asylums. But extremely few of those +insane geniuses who have been reported were ever confined in asylums. +Most of them belonged to that class of deranged persons who are cared +for by their family. Manifestly, then, sufficient statistics fail us, +even for the present time. Everybody will see, without going further, +how futile it is to make a list of insane poets from the early Roman +literature to the end of the nineteenth century, and to offer this as +supporting any assertion of the kind. Do but consider how hard it is +for us to attain any reliable conclusions upon matters much more within +our control. For a long time there has been a serious dispute among +psychiatrists as to whether there is any connection between syphilis +and general paresis. Both are accurately limited and well-defined +terms, and not, like genius and insanity, two terms, neither of which +can be defined. They are perfectly typical and exactly characterized +forms of disease. Yet all the researches of the two parties have been +powerless to settle the question. The most diverse theories about the +matter still find numerous defenders. + +There has also been an attempt to trace a connection between genius and +insanity through facts of heredity. In spite of some valuable works +in this department,[77] it must be admitted that the observations +hitherto adduced are still far from sufficient to have any scientific +value. The fact that in several families of eminent men insanity has +occurred in no wise justifies us in drawing any conclusion. In order to +do that we must, as in the former case, be in a condition to establish +statistical comparisons which shall be _absolutely exact_ between the +proportionate occurrence of insanity in the families of men of genius +and those of ordinary men. The past must therefore be left altogether +out of account; nor is it any exaggeration to say that the difficulties +of establishing the facts for the present time with absolute exactitude +are unconquerable. Independently of all else, the flexibility and +indeterminacy of the terms of the question--genius and insanity--give +room for inexactitude in the conclusions. + +Every disinterested observer must be struck with the contradictions and +inadequacy of the investigations that have been made in this field. +Lombroso, for example,[78] says: “Galton and Ribot remark that genius +is as hereditary as insanity, and that especially the gift for music, +which drives so many into the madhouse, is transmitted from parents to +children. Palestrina, Benda, Düssek, Stiller, Mozart, and Eichhorn all +had musically gifted children. The Bach family presented to the world +eight generations of musicians, and among them fifty-seven individuals +distinguished themselves not a little. Among painters of renown, von +der Weld, von Eyck, Murillo, Veronese, Bellini, Caracci, Correggio, +Mieris, Bassano, Tintoretto, Caliare (uncle, father, and son), all +sprang from families which were more or less occupied with their art. +Among poets, Æschylus had two sons and two grandsons who were poets; +Swift was the nephew of Dryden; Lucian was Seneca’s grandson or nephew; +Torquato Tasso was the son of Bernardo Tasso; Ariosto’s brother and +nephew were poets; two sons of Aristophanes were dramatists; Corneille, +Racine, Sophocles, Coleridge, were each the father or grandfather of +a not insignificant poet.” But in flat contradiction to this stands +the following assertion of Lombroso:[79] “Moreover, the inheritance of +genius does not occur so easily as it otherwise would for the reason +that men of genius are often childless and often have degenerate +offspring, as we see in the lines of noble houses.” Thus he amply +refutes his own previous proposition, and saves other people the +trouble of doing so. To prove his last point he says: “Schopenhauer, +Descartes, Leibnitz, Malebranche, Comte, Kant, Spinoza, Michel Angelo, +Newton, Foscolo, and Alfieri were unmarried; and those great men who +did not shrink from the bonds of wedlock, like Shakespeare, Dante, +Arzolo, etc., found no happiness in that life.” As if celibacy, or +an unhappy marriage, could have no other cause than impotence! Other +psychiatrists have remarked the sterility of great men. Thus, Arndt +says:[80] “Hence we often see, I might say without exception, that +genius makes the summit of the family tree, or at least is the last +living twig of one branch, which bears many flowers and fruits, but +loses its capacity of putting forth new shoots in creating genius. +Thereafter it buds but scantily, or even loses the power of doing even +that, but comes to an end without progeny.” + +This opinion is somewhat exaggerated, as Lombroso’s own report +shows; and we should lay ourselves open to the charge of inexcusable +superficiality were we to attempt to erect a scientific theory upon +such a foundation. + +It is true that between famous men--the so-called geniuses--and the +insane many resemblances may be traced. Nevertheless, they are, as +we have seen, mere resemblances, not real affinities. Just as every +symptom of mental disease has its analogue in health, so has it also an +analogue in genius. But, owing to the entire mental action being higher +than in average men, the states analogous to morbid symptoms here come +out more markedly. Genius resembles insanity as gold resembles brass. +The similarity is merely in the appearance. When we go deeper into +the facts we find the two states so widely disparate that we are not +justified in saying that they are allied; still less, with Moreau, +that genius is a morbid condition. + +Finally, let the fact be considered that most of the great men, both +of art and of science, were misunderstood by their contemporaries, +and were only appreciated after they were dead. In recognition of +this truth, Goethe pronounces that a genius is in touch with his +century only by virtue of his defects, only in so far as he shares the +weaknesses of his times. The genius of the truly great man outstrips, +with its great wing strokes, the rest of the flock. Those who can not +keep up with him can not comprehend him. They are puzzled at first, +and finally set him down as a fool. In short, they confound genius and +insanity. + + + + + DEGENERATION. + + +The riddle of heredity is yet unsolved. The seed corpuscles and +the _ovum_--the male and female germinal substances--through the +coalescence of which the new individual is created, not only transmit +bodily characters from progenitors to progeny, but psychical +peculiarities too, and thus convey family traits from forefathers to +posterity. Of the fact experience assures us, but as to its biological +causes nothing has been disclosed. + +In the great catalogue of diseases, somatic and psychical, heredity +plays an important part. This has been undisputed since Hippocrates. In +most cases, however, it is not a definite disease which is inherited, +but a diathesis, a predisposition, a want of resistance to all baleful +influences of the direct exciting causes of disease. + +In this way heredity is an important element in all pathogeneses, +or origins of disease; and it is especially so for derangements of +the mind. The inheritance may either be a direct one--from parent +to offspring--or an indirect one. In the latter case it is either +atavism, or reversion to the characters of grandparents, or there is a +collateral inheritance from an uncle or aunt. + +Essentially distinct from heredity is gradual and progressive +_degeneration_--a phenomenon first profoundly studied by Morel de +Rouen.[81] Morel schematizes it as follows: + +_First Generation:_ Nervous temperament; moral depravity; excesses. + +_Second Generation:_ Tendency to apoplexy and severe neuroses; +alcoholism. + +_Third Generation:_ Mental derangements; suicide; intellectual +incapacity. + +_Fourth Generation:_ Hereditary imbecility; deformities; arrested +development. With this last generation the race comes to an end by +sterility. + +Besides a long list of mental symptoms, Morel has collected a number +of stigmata, or bodily marks, which he has observed in degenerate +subjects. These are many kinds of deformities, want of equality in the +two halves of the face or other bilateral parts, irregularities of +the skull, protruding or unlike ears, overgrown ear-laps, squinting, +stuttering, deformed teeth, too few or too many fingers, atrophies or +abnormal formations of the organs of sex, etc. + +Morel called these phenomena phenomena of _dégénérescence_. This +has been translated into German by the term _Entartung_. The German +word implies etymologically a departure from the _Art_--that is, the +species, the normal form--and might be applied to any chronic disease, +whether somatic or psychic. It need not imply, as _degeneration_ does, +a progressive pining away of the race till it is extinct. + +In the course of time, however, this point has fallen out of sight. +Modern writers, and especially the French author, Magnan, who has +very industriously worked upon the subject, leave almost unnoticed +the question of progressive pining ending with the extinction of the +race, and place the whole emphasis upon the heredity. Magnan employs +the terms _dégénérés_, _héréditaires dégénérés_, _héréditaires_, +indifferently. Möbius directly declares that it is convenient to +replace the expression _hereditary_ by _degenerate_.[82] + +Thus it is that at present the expressions _Belastete_ (afflicted), +_Hereditarier_ (hereditary), and _Entartete_ (degenerate) are used +promiscuously. The fact that such diversity of expression reigns is +due, in this department as elsewhere in science, to the habit of +quarrelling over words instead of making their meaning clear. So von +Krafft-Ebing, for example, terms paranoia exclusively a psychosis of +degeneration, and, in order to refute Mendel,[83] who questions the +degenerative significance of the disease, advances the argument that +paranoia is only found among the “afflicted.”[84] Now, “affliction” and +“degeneration” are two entirely different things, which have few, if +any, common features. Many paranoiacs have perfectly sane children, and +therefore in Morel’s sense they can not be called degenerate. Paranoia +is likewise found in perfectly sane persons at an advanced age; and in +them there can be no _Entartung_ or _degeneration_. + +_The term “hereditary affliction” means, in psychopathology, merely +that disorders of the nervous system existed among the person’s +progenitors._ The man himself may thus not be deranged at all. In fact, +great numbers of the hereditarily afflicted are perfectly healthy. As +I have said, hereditary affliction plays an important part not only in +degeneration, but in the majority of mental diseases; and consequently +we shall do well to keep the terms “heredity” and “degeneracy” distinct. + +The forms of disease described by Morel under the name of +_dégénérescence_ are referred by him and his adherents, especially +Falret, exclusively to hereditary affliction; and a “hereditary +insanity” without qualification has been spoken of. But we have seen +that, on the one hand, a pathogenic significance belongs to heredity +in most psychoses; while, on the other hand, it has been proved that +the so-called “hereditary insanity” or “_dégénérescence_” is found in +persons who have had no insanity in their families; so that there would +be here a “hereditary insanity” without heredity. + +These facts shatter the very essence of Morel’s doctrine; and so +it came about that want of clearness of terms has led to many +misunderstandings and much diversity of expression. If, then, we are +to hold fast to the term _degeneration_, or _Entartung_, _this must +be understood to embrace all cases of defective development of the +psychical organ_. Degenerates are mental monstrosities; degeneration +κατ’ ἐξοχήν is idiocy. + +The causes of degeneration--that is, in good English, of +_degeneracy_--may be divided into three classes, as follows: + +1. _Degenerative Hereditary Transmission._--This concept is essentially +different from the above-described simple form of inheritance. In +_simple_ heredity nothing is transmitted but a predisposition, the +individual being radically sane. _Degenerative_ hereditary transmission +implies a diseased germinal substance, which may lead to progressive +degeneration of the posterity. The disease of the germinal substance is +in many cases due to actual poisoning, more especially by alcohol. Many +authors insist that chronic intoxication is not requisite, but that if +drunkenness supervenes during the act of copulation, it suffices to +transmit a degenerate state to the offspring.[85] + +2. _Intra-uterine Disturbances of Development._--Here are to be placed +infectious diseases of the mother during pregnancy; bad nutrition of +the embryo in consequence of cachectic states of the mother, such as +rickets, etc.; deformities of the pelvis, and consequent compression +of the skull; injuries to the head in delivery by instruments, and in +consequence of accidents to the mother during pregnancy, etc. + +3. _Extra-uterine Disturbances of Development._--Such are injuries to +the head, infectious diseases, and the like, in early childhood. + +As regards the clinical portrait of degeneration, there have been many +attempts to divide it into classes and to establish specific forms +of disease under this genus. Morel divides the degenerate into four +classes, as follows: + +The first embraces all those persons in whom there are no particular +anomalies, whether of the intellect or the heart, but who are +characterized by a so-called nervous temperament. Among them are +neurasthenics, hysterical women, and people who, while very eccentric, +are fully conscious of their own state. + +In the second class are those persons who, while their intellectual +powers are unimpaired, display a decided disturbance of their feelings +and impulses, and consequently great defects and perversity in morals. + +The third class contains imbeciles whose mental weakness is limited to +the intellect, so that the instincts hold sway over their understanding. + +In the fourth class are found idiots in whom the whole mental +development is extremely low. + +This and other classifications are purely arbitrary. These classes +gradually pass into one another, and single examples show the most +diverse combinations. In consequence of the disturbances of development +in degeneracy the quintessence of the malady is to be sought in the +disproportion in which the mental factors stand to one another. Thus +Magnan[86] says of the degenerate: “Doubtless the essential thing is +the discord, the want of balance of the mind.” Hence, in diagnosing the +mental state, it is not enough to inquire into the degree of general +mental development that the intellect, for example, may have attained, +for there are some men who are dull, as well as those who are bright. +But one main problem must be to determine the proportions which the +different mental factors bear to one another. A short-legged man is +just as healthy as a long-legged man, but if the relative development +of the two legs is different, one being longer than the other, there is +a state of disease, though each leg singly be sound. So it is with the +mental powers. If the feelings and moods are relatively more strongly +developed than the other mental characteristics, so that the latter +depend too much upon the former, there will be a relatively hysterical +condition. With a disproportionate development of the fancy, delusions +and hallucinations may occur; while an excessive development of the +impulses, at the expense of the sensations, joined with intellectual +weakness, may lead to moral insanity, since here the characteristics +known as conscience, pity, etc., do not exist. Of course, these are not +universal, unyielding rules, for every case has its singularities and +must be studied and diagnosed for itself. + +The clinical morbid picture of these degenerates may be very manifold. +As might be expected on theoretical grounds, there is scarcely a +symptom in psychiatry which may not occasionally be observed in the +degenerate, since the disproportion of the single mental powers among +one another may produce the most diverse combinations. + +That which distinguishes degeneracy from other diseases of the mind is +precisely the absence of any type in the occurrence and history of its +symptoms. While in chronic paranoia a systematized fabric of delusions +is found to which patients adhere in its unaltered form, and which only +at the end becomes mollified in the general death of the intellectual +powers, in the history of the degenerate, on the other hand, we find +the most variegated medley of symptoms wildly succeeding one another. +At one time there are imperative ideas, imperative impulses, and other +such supervenient states; then we see delusions emerge in them; but, +unlike those of the mad, they do not arise and remain systematically, +but are only temporary, and are characterized by the absence of any +marked type. “The fabric of delusions,” says Magnan, “has in the +degenerate particular marks. Whether it be delusion of greatness, or +delusion of persecution, or religious, or hypochondriacal delusion, +or whatever other variety, it appears without preparation, is often +multiform, and whether it lasts a longer or a shorter time, it never +goes through a series of determinate periods.”[87] + +Manifold diseased sensations and impulses play a great part in +degeneracy, and are often motives to the most surprising behaviour. +Magnan has described a great many impulses and antipathies or +syndromes, and terms them the mental stigmata of degeneracy. The most +important are the following: The mania for asking questions; the mania +for subtleties; the mania of doubt; aichmophobia, or fear of points, +in which needles and all pointed objects put the patients into agony; +agoraphobia, or fear of public squares; claustrophobia, or fear of +inclosed places; dipsomania or periodic passion for drink; sitiomania, +or irresistible longing to eat; pyromania, or the impulse to set +things on fire; kleptomania, or the passion for stealing; oniomania, +or the impulse to make purchases; zoöphilomania, or morbid love of +animals; onomatomania, or compulsion to seek for a particular word; +arithmomania, or compulsion to count, etc. These diseased impulses and +antipathies, whose number is very great, never occur singly, so as +to form a proper variety of insanity, as was erroneously assumed in +former times, thus giving rise to the term monomania. On the contrary, +they always form a mere partial phenomenon of a diseased state of the +nervous system, consequent upon the discord of its several factors. + +Here, too, belong the numerous sexual anomalies described at length by +von Krafft-Ebing. These, too, never constitute a disease proper, but +are mere symptoms of a general malady. If, therefore, it is required +of a psychiatrist to ascertain whether an act which conflicts with +morals and with law is to be considered as pathological or not, he +must not consider that act by itself. He will have to find out whether +or not the mental conduct of the person who committed it is insane +independently of that act. + +The morbid symptoms of degeneracy are, as we have said, of the most +various description, and cases in which the symptoms are decided can be +diagnosed without difficulty. Since such cases strike even the general +public as insane, the relatives of such patients call in medical aid. +The consequence is that those degenerates that are known to practising +physicians are, for the most part, those of typical imbecility, +perverse sensations, etc. + +It is very different with those _dégénérés supérieurs_, in whom no +direct phobias, manias, imperative ideas, delusions etc., are present, +but in whom there is merely a disturbance of the mental equilibrium, +so that Magnan terms them simply _unbalanced_, _déséquilibrés_. In +such a person every single mental faculty may have attained a degree +of development which surpasses the average; and yet the proportion of +the different mental factors to one another may be so abnormal that the +mental balance is destroyed; and thus the discord may be so prominent +that the person in question, in spite of his seemingly high mental +development, may be mentally deranged. + +An acquaintance with this class of degenerates is important, not alone +for the mad-doctor, but for every physician, every jurist, every +historian, every art critic, every pedagogue. In short, every person +whose duty it is to pass judgment upon men should interest himself +in this form of degeneracy, for men thus afflicted have at all times +exercised great influence upon the arts, the politics, and the whole +civilization of their countries--all the more so that the public +have not recognised that they were insane, but have allowed them not +infrequently to play parts in social life. + +One of the characteristic marks of these degenerates is their highly +emotional nature and the incalculable oscillations of their mood. +Although in great men, in consequence of the extreme refinement of +their mental organism, the moods and feelings are capable of very wide +modulation, so that Goethe said of himself that he passed in his moods +from one extreme to the other, yet in them this phenomenon is strictly +limited to their subjective sensation. Men of undisturbed mental +balance remain ever masters of themselves, and do not allow themselves +to be hurried into irrational acts. In spite of all the oscillations +of his inward state of heart, Goethe, as seen from without, was always +the same distinguished, consistent, imposing figure. This marked the +greatness of his character, the proportionate development of his +different mental factors, his pure harmony of soul. In spite of the +bold leaps of his luxuriant fancy, in spite of the great exaltations +and depressions of his moods and feelings, the great _ensemble_ of his +psychical organism was governed by his forceful thought; his every act +was guided and determined by his intellect. + +In the degenerate, on the other hand, sudden gusts of passion and +fluctuations of moods not infrequently lead to the most singular and +eccentric acts. Their intellectual action is not able to set limits +to their impulsive feelings. Inward excitement runs unbridled into +outward manifestation. Irritable to the highest degree, touched by the +slightest impressions, they frequently react in the most passionate way +upon the most insignificant occasion. No occurrence is too indifferent +or insignificant to excite an emotion in them which hurries them into +the most incredible acts. + +The circumstance that, with the degenerates, the emotion leads to a +total superseding of the intellectual capacity, and may then drive +them, in their utter irresponsibility, into acts of violence and crime, +has often led to the opinion that there was something morbid in that +emotion itself. But this is a superficial view, not in consonance with +the facts. + +A man capable of no emotion, whom no mental stimulus is able to get +out of the common ruts, is like a stupid mule that keeps on its way +undisturbed, without regard for the strokes of the whip, and with +unmoved composure, though a cannon were discharged by its side. Such +dulness is found among a class of degenerates, including the idiots. +The sane man is usually capable of emotion, but he knows how to govern +and curb it by the action of his intellect. Emotion in the sane man as +an expression of a legitimate sentiment is beautiful, at times even +sublime. This is true even of anger. The blushing maiden repelling +unworthy propositions, the anger of the man whose honour is assailed +and who seeks satisfaction, have of a surety nothing unwholesome, +and will hardly be confusible with the uncalled-for passion of the +degenerate. + +A phenomenon frequently observed among degenerates is an abnormally +lively fancy, which appears in childhood, and renders any purposive +thought impossible. Such children are inclined to dreaminess and +so-called thoughtlessness. Their mental powers are sometimes pretty +well developed, but they can make no use of them because their +dreaminess permits no persistent logical thought. They have to be +incessantly shaken up. At school they are inattentive and never +follow the matter in hand. In their earliest childhood they have +lively dreams, often wake up with a dreadful shriek, in what is +called _pavor nocturnus_, and sometimes have deceptions of sense. +Proneness to invent stories is a characteristic of these children +gifted with fancy, and their tales are narrated as actual occurrences. +This is the _pseudologia phantastica_ of Delbrück. At the age of +puberty they are often attacked by that kind of self-nursed anguish +which the Germans called _Weltschmerz_. They indulge in sentimental +effusions, and often perpetrate all sorts of eccentric follies. In +later life they fall into that class of minds whom we call dreamers, +enthusiasts, Utopians, and mystics. Their luxuriant fancy, directed by +no purposive will or intellectual plan, attracts them to whatever is +occult, incomprehensible, and wonderful. From his youth up such a man +is not habituated to look plain facts in the face, but gives himself +up to building castles in the air and to useless trifles. He lives +in dream-land; his metaphysics (for every man has a metaphysics or +general conception of the universe, a _Weltanschauung_) is not built +upon outward experience, but is the outcome of his peculiar experience, +which is one of mystical notions spun from the body of his fancy. + +In this class belong these religious fanatics, the prophets, the +founders of sects, and the like, who in earlier times were able to +exercise no little influence upon the course of history. Religious +enthusiasm and the fanaticism of religious sects, which linger yet in +North America and in Russia, are in great part phenomena of psychical +degeneration. But in our days the fantastics and Utopians have +largely turned aside from the early forms of religious enthusiasm to +spiritualism, occultism, and other varieties of mysticism. Most of what +is written to-day upon spiritualism, prophetic dreams, clairvoyance, +second sight, and such matters springs from morbid, degenerate brains, +in which the creations of fancy take the lead, and the intellectual +action is too weak to exercise a rational criticism. We meet such +persons in every department of life. They make their appearance as +philanthropists and as political agitators, discoursing with pathos +and fervour upon the subjects they least understand, inciting one +class of society against another, and setting up as champions of +labour and as apostles of freedom. Though they themselves understand +nothing about the matters of which they speak and write, being utterly +incapable of subjecting their fancies and mysticisms to logical +criticism, yet they are thoroughly impressed with their own merit and +greatness. Their gift of clothing the absurdest notions in fine words +enables them to infatuate the masses, and they often collect about +them a mob of admirers. The untenable and contradictory character +of their doctrines and promises little disturbs the silly multitude +that applauds them, although their imbecility is readily detected by +rational thinkers and close observers. + +Sometimes it happens that the defective development of the intellect +in such persons affects only one part of it, while some intellectual +characteristics are highly cultivated. Degenerates are found who +have remarkably good memories and good capacity for learning. They +may even acquire vast erudition, although they have no capacity for +turning their knowledge to account. Their fancy gets the better of +their intellect, and throws the manifold residua of former impressions +of sense into a promiscuous and confused heap. They lack the power +of concentrating their attention exclusively upon one object. The +procedure of their thought reminds one of a rudderless craft given over +to the caprices of the winds and waves. The extent of their erudition +may, upon a slight acquaintance, lead one to think them bright and +intelligent. But, owing to their lack of power of arranging their +ideas logically, they will never be able to accomplish anything of +any consequence, and the instability of their mental conduct will not +escape the expert observer. + +History is rich in examples of such individuals. The Roman emperor +Claudius, whose imbecility is beyond question, acquired, in spite of +his intellectual weakness, a solid mastery of the Greek tongue, and +possessed marked talent as an orator. He also composed an extensive +history. Apart from these powers, he was a typical degenerate. Before +he became emperor he had a mania for hearing lawsuits as a judge, and, +owing to his simplicity and inability to reason logically, he was +generally the butt of the lawyers. On one occasion his written decision +read that “he gave his vote for those who had spoken the truth.”[88] + +In still other degenerates we find a well-developed action of the +intellect combined with an almost total absence of feeling. The +moral sense, sympathy, pity, love, etc., are conditions utterly +strange to such people. They act from cold calculation. Selfishness +and heartlessness mark all their acts. Those curmudgeons whose sole +satisfaction is the heaping up of wealth, to whose life all ideal +features are foreign, who stick at no legal means of attaining their +selfish ends, who are not only without feeling for the sufferings of +their fellow-men, but are even cold and indifferent to their nearest +family, belong to this category of mental degeneration. + +This unfeeling nature, combined with certain proportions of other +mental factors, will result in the so-called moral insanity, and when +prudence is deficient or circumstances push to it, produce the worst +criminals. We often find not merely a deficiency of feeling, but a +positive perversion of sentiments and feelings. Acts which other men +perform with anguish and horror occasion them delight and contentment. +Where others feel pain and sympathy they feel pleasure and a glow of +comfort. Such mental states may lead to bestial cruelty and to an +incredible pitch of brutality. + +History affords numerous examples of this. The Roman emperor Nero +had evil inheritances from both parents. Insanity and epilepsy were +prevalent in both families. His father, Domitius Ahenobarbus, was so +low in the moral scale that it was said of him that he would have been +the worst man of his age if his son Nero had not lived. Suetonius +reports that when they wished him joy at the birth of Nero he remarked, +“The offspring of me and of Agrippina can only be a monster who will +scourge the world.” Everybody knows that the inclination of Nero +for cruelty, lust, and dissipation passed all bounds. His behaviour +when he had Rome set on fire, admired the spectacle from afar, and +recited verses painting the destruction of Troy, is quite typical of +a degenerate. Yet he was not without talents of an intellectual kind. +The vanity which led him first to appear in Naples as an actor, singer, +and charioteer, and later carried him to Olympia, whence he returned +richly adorned with prizes, was decidedly characteristic of his mental +degeneracy. + +Moral insanity in its furthest extreme is illustrated in the later +Emperor Commodus. As a youth he displayed a lust and cruelty which +amounted to mad fury. His whole pride was in his extraordinary bodily +strength. To imitate Hercules, he often appeared clad in a lion’s skin +and armed with a club. He appeared as a gladiator seven hundred and +thirty-five times. His joy in murder knew no bounds. He often had the +companions of his orgies slain from simple delight in bloodshed. It was +a pleasure to him to bleed a man. + +We not infrequently find degenerates who, in spite of their defective +development, have brilliant talents in special directions; and such +persons may attain high consideration on account of their achievements. +Their endowments are, however, always one-sided, and, whatever their +capacity, they are wanting in logical thought, energy, and force +of will. Whether in these cases the hypertrophy or overgrowth of +some parts, with consequent talents in certain departments, is to +be regarded as a consequence of the general disturbance of the +development--this partial capacity being gained at the expense of +the development of other parts--or whether we have a highly refined +organism in which particular parts are atrophied or backward in their +development, we are at present unable to decide. Each opinion has +something to support it from a theoretical standpoint, and it may be +that both cases occur in fact, so that different causes lead to the +same effect. + +Sometimes such a partial development--limited, it may be, to a single +intellectual capacity--is found in a mind that is otherwise a blank. +There have been high-grade idiots who have had a decided talent for +music or painting, and who have now and then accomplished something +remarkable in one of these directions. An interesting example of an +idiot with an enormous development in a narrow, intellectual line is +that of the calculator Dase. + +A partial gigantic growth is the somatic analogue of that partial +mental development. Of this Ranke says:[89] “A light is thrown upon the +morbid affinities of gigantic growth by the numerous cases in which +partial gigantic growth has been observed. Single parts of the body, +especially the extremities, sometimes attain immoderate dimensions. In +rare cases, one entire half of the body has had a gigantic development. +At other times a single limb, or only one hand or one foot, or even +only one finger or one toe, has been affected.” Ranke explains partial +gigantic growth, as well as partial dwarfing, as deformities due to +perturbations of development during fœtal life. Here, then, is a +perfectly exact somatic analogue of mental degeneracy. The same discord +between single parts, the same disturbance of equilibrium, is due to +the same general cause--disturbances of development during fœtal life. + +It is well known that injuries to the heads of children originally +sane produce mental degeneracy, and even complete idiocy. Many writers +teach that such injuries have not infrequently caused hypertrophies +of single mental faculties. Lombroso reports as follows: “Cases are +by no means rare in which accidents, such as usually result in mental +derangement, injuries of the brain, and fractures of the skull, +have converted a perfectly commonplace soul into a man of genius. +Giovambattista Vico in his youth fell to the ground from a high ladder, +and was taken up with a fractured brain pan. Goetry, originally a +simple chorister, became a great composer after a heavy beam had fallen +on his head. Mabillor, who possessed very small capacities, attained +all his greatness in consequence of a wound in his head. Hall, who +narrates this, knew a Dane who was in his youth semi-idiotic, and who +showed great talent after he had fallen from a ladder and had struck +the ground headforemost.”[90] + +The term “genius” appears to be applied by Lombroso, here as +elsewhere, in a pretty broad sense. Moreover, in many such cases it is +impossible to ascertain whether the mental development took place by +reason of, or in spite of, the injuries of the head. It is certainly +possible, according to the general analogies of degeneration, that a +partial hypertrophy was occasioned by the accident. This seems the +more presumable since analogous cases have been observed in somatic +medicine. Thus Ballinger reports a case observed by von Buhl. It is +that of the giant Thomas Hasler: “Thomas grew quite normally,” says +Ballinger, “up to his ninth year. About that time he was kicked by a +horse in the left cheek. He soon began to grow monstrously. He ate a +great deal, particularly of butter and other fat fare, common enough in +his country in the Bavarian mountains. At eleven Thomas was so large +that he had to leave off going to school because the seats were not +large enough. Gradually the bones of the skull and face thickened, +and that not merely on the side where he had been kicked. After he +was full-grown he ate little. Every motion he made involved effort +and fatigue. He attained the age of twenty-five, the weight of three +hundred and forty-one pounds, and the height of seven feet three +inches.”[91] + +The one-sided mental development of the degenerate, the brilliant +gifts in special directions at the expense of the development of other +psychical powers, is generally called “genius”; and this confusion of +ideas, this confounding of those powerful minds whose high capacity +of achievement consists in a general refinement of the psychical +organism with those individuals of whom instability and mental discord +are the characteristics, and whose partial mental overdevelopment is +a consequence of derangements of growth, has, in no slight measure, +contributed to the belief that there is a real affinity between genius +and insanity--that is, that those great men who have always decided the +fate of mankind are results of morbid conditions. + +Between the instability or disturbance of the mental balance and +the so-called normal average man there is, as we know, a gradual +transition. No sharp line can be drawn here between mental health +and mental disease. There is also a gradual series connecting fully +endowed men of genius and those partially developed degenerates. But to +establish any affinity between them on that account would necessitate +an equal affinity between “normal average men” and common degenerates. +The same reasoning would conclude an affinity between the Philistine +and the degenerate who suffers from moral insanity or imbecility. + +If we are to give the name of genius to the great men in different +departments we might very well term a degenerate with partially +conspicuous development a _pseudo-genius_ (_pseudogenie_). But to +accomplish anything really great, a partial mental development is not +enough. A correct combination and balance of all the mental faculties +are needed to thread that thorny path and to climb the steep heights +which lead to immortality. Those characteristics with which we have +become acquainted in great men, that of concentrating undivided +attention upon an object, indomitable energy and staying power, the +unselfish, self-forgetting compulsion to create--these qualities are +found in the degenerate either not at all, or in insufficient measure. + +In those partially gifted degenerates, those pseudo-geniuses, certain +typical characteristics are hardly ever wanting. In childhood they +already show that vanity and self-sufficient arrogance, that foolhardy +conceit which never leave them through life. While they are still +schoolboys they speak contemptuously of the greatest men of art and +science. Raphael and Titian were bunglers in their estimation. They +compassionately shrug their shoulders over the “Philistine Schiller,” +who ought long ago to have passed into oblivion. Goethe is no longer +“up to the times,” and his creations have been “greatly overrated.” +Such is the trash which they utter as boys. They learn nothing at +school, partly because they are incapable and slothful, and partly +because they are so convinced of their genius that they hold learning +to be for them superfluous. They are of the opinion that much knowledge +might damage their originality, their genius, and that their high +inward merit needs no adventitious augmentation. They leave school as +soon as convenient, but not to learn a trade or, by the study of years, +to train themselves to any specialty. They enter the world at once as +accomplished poets, writers, painters, or musicians. With the most +secure self-confidence, which is never wanting to these subjects, they +devote themselves to the most difficult departments. They write dramas, +novels, and romances, paint, compose, feel themselves to be judges of +art and critics, and write about matters far above their mental horizon. + +Often enough their works carry the stamp of the silly and ridiculous. +In place of the renown and applause upon which they had calculated, +scorn and ridicule are their portion. But that will not shatter their +faith in their own merit and genius. They rather complain that their +fellow-men do not appreciate them or else envy their powers too much +to acknowledge them. The truly great man who is in advance of his age +and is not understood by his contemporaries feels an unaffected pain +at that; but he wends his way as best he may, and perseveres in his +endeavours as long as good sense permits him to do so, and very often +longer. The degenerate, on the other hand, is soon discouraged by +failure. He retires from society, considers himself a “misunderstood +genius,” looks upon every man as his enemy, and develops in later years +a decided mania of greatness and persecution. + +Other degenerates have, partly by their higher gifts, partly by the +want of discrimination of the community in which they live, greater +success with their works. Their so-called “originality of genius,” +which often enough deserves to be called original madness, is able to +infatuate the multitude who fancy that the gabble of these persons +makes a “new departure” in art and the beginning of a new epoch. + +Well says Kant of this class of men: “But one guild of these so-called +_men of genius_ (better, monkeys of genius) is placed under this shop +sign; they speak the language of minds extraordinarily favoured by +Nature, declare laborious learning and research to be dull-minded, and +profess to have seized the spirit of all science at one clutch, and to +dispense it in small doses, concentrated and strong. This race, cousins +of the quacks and criers at fairs, is very prejudicial to progress +in scientific and moral culture. They pronounce in decisive tones +upon religion, politics, and morals, as if they were illuminated and +adepts, envoys from the throne of wisdom, while their secret object all +the time is to conceal the real poverty of their minds. What else is +there to be done but to laugh and continue patiently at our industry, +without regard to those mountebanks?”[92] + +Not infrequently the perverse impulses and sensations of the degenerate +are reflected in their artistic production. The Roman Emperor Commodus +had a rough animal strength. He also had an impulse to bestial cruelty, +and received pleasure and satisfaction from bloodletting and from +the sufferings of others. Now, that impulse, that pleasure, and that +satisfaction were marked in that strength of his. In like manner, +degenerate writers have similar impulses and sentiments; and they give +expression to them in their writings. Many modern literary men love to +wallow round in sloughs and puddles, to sweep forward what is dirty and +vulgar, and to amuse themselves with such things. This preference may +in many cases be accounted for by such a perversion of the feelings and +by a mental degeneracy. Other abnormal impulses, especially of a sexual +origin, appear in the works of degenerates. + +Instability and want of mental equilibrium hold the higher degenerates +in a continual unrest. Of patience and perseverance they have +next to none at all. They precipitate themselves with zeal into a +subject, and very soon give it up. They are mostly occupied with +themselves. The world and all it contains only so far interests them +as it is the vehicle of their precious selves and what can hurt or +help them. In everything they betray the same egoism. It is typical +and characteristic of their souls. Nobler sentiments, demanding +self-forgetfulness and self-sacrifice, are alien to the degenerate. +Hence they are unacquainted with the ideal feelings of friendship and +love. Cicero says: “Amicitia non esse potest nisi inter bonos,” and +he might well have added “et mente sanos.” Never among degenerates +can such a bond of friendship be found as is frequent among great +men. Conformably to the proverb, “Birds of a feather flock together,” +degenerates are often attracted to one another. But their intercourse, +rooted as it is in mere selfish interests and morbid impulses, is more +like that of the inmates of a monkey’s cage than the self-forgetful and +ideal friendship of men. + +The degenerate ever remains a stranger in the world. To comprehend what +goes on in the world, to understand and appreciate the acts of his +fellow-men, one must be able to feel with them. But the degenerate is +either wanting in the intellectual power necessary to comprehend what +is taking place, or, if that be not his defect, then his feelings and +sentiments are too narrow to enable him to make use of his perceptions. +Hence, when the degenerate poet undertakes to paint the world, it is +not the world we live in that he brings before us, but a fantastic +invention of his brain, the counterpart of his morbid ideations. In +case he belongs to the subjective class of poets, who embody in art +their own sentiments and feelings, he gives us a peep into an abyss of +aberrations and morbid sufferings. + +It were vain to attempt an exhaustive description of the clinical +appearances of degeneracy. The morbid symptoms are too manifold, the +characteristics too diverse, the combinations of mental factors in +disturbed equilibrium too numerous, and new phenomena are perpetually +presenting themselves to the most experienced psychiatrist. + +As an example of a degenerate painter who attained some consideration +and was even the originator of a “new departure” in painting may serve +the Frenchman Courbet, often called the “first realist.” According to +Rosenberg,[93] who gives a somewhat detailed account of him, he had +a very defective schooling, although his father sent him to Paris at +the age of twenty to study law. His spelling was atrocious. “The sight +of a book excited his anger, and he recoiled from the presence of an +inkstand.” In the genuine imbecile style he ventured the following +judgment upon the old masters while he was yet a student: + +“Veronese was a superior man, a painter without weakness and without +exaggeration, an honest painter. Rembrandt bewitches the intelligent +and astounds the simple. Titian and Leonardo da Vinci are impostors. If +one of these two were to come back to earth and were to pass through +my studio, I should go for my knife. Ribera, Zurbaran, and Valasquez +before all excite my admiration. Ostade and Craesbeek seduce me. +Holbein I revere. As for Mr. Raphael, he has undoubtedly painted some +interesting portraits, but I can find no thought in him.” + +He possessed a quite monstrous self-love, and loved best to paint +his own portrait. “He imagined he had an Assyrian profile, and +that imperative idea only strengthened his preference for his own +physiognomy.” A visitor to an exhibition of his pictures remarks: +“With three or four exceptions, all the rest represent Courbet +himself--‘Courbet bowing,’ ‘Courbet promenading,’ ‘Courbet standing +still,’ ‘Courbet lying down,’ ‘Courbet seated,’ ‘Courbet dead,’ Courbet +everywhere. Nothing but Courbet was to be seen.” + +In his morbid vanity he endeavoured, in spite of his slight mental +capacity, to get himself talked about in reference to every possible +subject. Rosenberg reports: “In his immoderate vanity he boasted that +since the cross of Christ no other cross had been so much talked about +in the world as his own.” His letter to the minister,[94] which had +been composed for this illiterate man by one of his friends, he had +concluded with bombastic phrases which sufficed to crown him, in the +eyes of the Irreconcilables, with the civic garland of an incorruptible +republican. “I am fifty years old,” he wrote, “and I have ever lived +a free man. Let me end my life in freedom. When I am dead, it must be +said of me: This man never belonged to a school, nor to a church, nor +to an institution, nor to an academy--above all, never to a government, +not even to the government of liberty.” + +Courbet played an extremely ridiculous part in the year 1870, as a +member of the Commune, at the pulling down of the column of the Place +Vendôme. + +“Before the court-martial, the poor, vain soul did all he could to +repel or at least to mollify the charge brought against him. He was +punished with that with which he had erred. He was not a bad man +but a mere simpleton, whom his intolerable self-love had led into +a path where he did not belong. He regarded himself as a universal +man, when he was at best only a painter. His too highly rated and too +much disparaged works had made him known and had enabled him to live +comfortably. His absolute want of fancy, the insurmountable difficulty +which he felt of ‘composing’ a picture, had brought him to found +the so-called ‘realism’--that is to say, the exact reproduction--of +natural objects, without distinction, without choice, as they presented +themselves to view. Men attacked the ideas of Courbet. His pictures +were sent back from the _Salon_. He proclaimed himself a martyr, +sincerely considered himself to be persecuted, and so became a great +man. People were wrong; they should have left him a free field and not +tried to render innocuous the revelations of an undoubtedly imperfect, +yet in many respects interesting talent. Courbet became a sort of +leader of a school, or, rather, head of a sect. Many nobodies flocked +about him and recognised him as their master. By the side of these +naïve persons, who dreamed of wishing to paint without having learned +to paint, were grouped banterers who liked to laugh, and for whom +Courbet was a standing source of delight. They flattered the vanity +of this heavy-witted peasant, who replaced wit with malignity, drove +him to all sorts of follies, told him he was a national economist, a +moralist, a philosopher, and a statesman, and encouraged him to speak, +while they drank the beer to which he treated for the sake of finding +listeners.” Again: “The painter was of the opinion that the glory of +the emperor interfered with his own, for his pictures seemed to him +more important than victories, than the _concordat_, or than the _code +civil_.” + +After he had been condemned by the court-martial to six months’ +imprisonment for the overthrow of the column of the Place Vendôme and +had served out his time, he often called out boastingly in the streets +and on other occasions: “I destroyed your column. I will pay for it.” +Finally he was taken at his word, and again accused. He was obliged to +flee. After long negotiations an agreement was reached between him and +the Government, according to which he was to pay annually ten thousand +francs. He soon after died suddenly. + +Here, then, was a mental degenerate who, in spite of his pathological +action of mind, possessed unquestionable talent, but, owing to lack of +ideas of his own, and his incapacity to produce anything independent, +had to content himself with reproducing what he saw. + +This art of mimicry in itself, joined to that kind of “realism” +which endeavours to elevate the ugly and to suppress the beautiful, +necessarily produced, for a time, the illusion of originality, with +some, perhaps, of genius. Thus it came to pass that Courbet was almost +the founder of a school. + +A great number of degenerates are found in literature. Lombroso +has collected a list of such cases and given them the name of +_graphomaniacs_. This is not a very happy designation, for, +according to the analogy of the other manias--kleptomania, pyromania, +etc.--_graphomania_ ought to mean the irresistible passion to write. +It would refer to the physical action, and would depend upon the +quantity of writing performed. But the majority of Lombroso’s cases are +distinguished by the peculiar contents of the writing, and a special +compulsion to write much only appears in a few cases. + +The passion for writing is found in different forms of disease, and +there are frequent opportunities to see it in the asylums. A patient +whom I myself had occasion to observe, a woman suffering from paranoia, +had formed a system of delusions upon which a new religion was to be +founded. She was constantly occupied in the erection of churches and +schools, and wrote about these things almost all day. During several +years she had filled a great number of _cahiers_, and wrote ceaselessly +letters to magistrates, personages of high position, etc., in which she +frequently covered the inside of the envelopes with characters. What +made the case particularly interesting was that she had constructed her +own language and her own characters, of which she commonly made use. + +Another case, which was that of a mathematician, was a worn-out +_hebephrenia_, or insanity of youth, which had passed over into +terminal dementia. The patient answered all questions with a few +stereotyped phrases. Going into his room, you would usually find +him working at his table. He had, in the course of years, written a +stately number of blank books full, and that in so small a hand that +a magnifying glass was necessary to make them out. He sometimes wrote +mathematical formulæ which for the most part could not be deciphered. + +The common symptom of these cases might very well be termed +_graphomania_. Of course, like the other manias, it is only a symptom, +a partial phenomenon of the disease, for we know by experience that no +monomania exists. Such a mania can not form a disease _sui generis_. + +Lombroso, who repeatedly speaks of “monomaniacs,” describes +“graphomania” as an independent malady. He says: “A sort of mental +disorder which I might call graphomania forms the link between the fool +of genius, the sane man, and the insane proper.” + +Both Lombroso’s “fools of genius” and “graphomaniacs” are mental +degenerates. In all these people there is a disturbance of the mental +balance, a disproportion between impulse and intellect, and in most +cases a marked lowering of intelligence, a general weakness of mind. + +Lombroso divides his graphomaniacs into different classes. Of one he +says: “These are given to excesses, whether of abstemiousness or of +unbridled appetite for food also to the most singular sexual excesses, +which I have cursorily noticed in my work upon Insane Love (paradoxal, +ideological, zoölogical love). They also have singular fondness for +dogs, cats, birds, etc., and still more singular inclinations to tear +up and destroy, say, costly ornaments. They throw themselves from +moving railway trains. They shun the light and only go about at night, +and not even then unless provided with a sunshade. They fear abode in +closed rooms so much that they faint if they hear doors shut; or else +they hate being in the open air, and refuse to cross public squares,” +etc. Further on we read: “These men are often overmastered by a hatred +of their fellow-beings. They withdraw into remote regions, and flee all +contact with men (claustrophilia). Others, again, although they prolong +existence in an evil life, crave society, whose cancers they are; +long for the admiration of others, be it only such as can be excited +by the most insignificant things, such as collections of buttons and +of umbrellas. They let slip no means, however ridiculous, to draw +attention to themselves. They write love-letters to themselves and read +them publicly, or smoke Trabucos while they suffer hunger. They strive +for the first places in the _cafés_ and in the political clubs. They +found little literary societies, and the more ignorant they are of the +matter in which for the moment they are engaged, the warmer is their +apostleship. Sometimes they are, from their youth up, incorrigibly +cruel, hypocritical, and thievish, make swindling and thieving their +pleasure, and are amazed when they are punished, although they +perfectly know the terms of the law. But the vanity of these men is +almost incredible. They commit crimes to satisfy this vanity, and they +do not care that what they do destroys their whole credit, nor that it +does not bring them the honour of which they are so desirous.” This is +a picture of typical cases of mental degeneracy, as we have already +learned. The symptom of graphomania is, according to Lombroso’s own +picture, not even particularly marked. There is a general imbecility +which may express itself in the most various ways. Of another class +of cases Lombroso says: “The intellectual fools are tireless talkers +who are often unable to bring their own flow of speech to an end. They +speak without logical connection, and almost always reach conclusions +contradicting something else that they had said. This happens more on +some days than on others.” Of these subjects Lombroso says: “I may add +that they are mostly incurable, since their malady is congenital. They +have the morbid and eccentric elements of genius, without its judgment +and creative power.” + +He then describes another category of subjects, the “foolish +graphomaniacs.” Of the only case he adduces he says: “Stewart, the +remarkable author of the New System of Physical Philosophy, who +struggled through the world in order to discover the cynosure of truth, +asserted that all kings and potentates of the earth had entered into a +solemn pact to annihilate his work. Hence he sent his friends copies +of it with the request that they would bury them, well packed, in +secret places, and only reveal the localities on their deathbeds.” In +all probability there was in this case a system of delusions; and, so +far as one can found a diagnosis on these few words, it would seem to +be a case of paranoia. How Lombroso can call it a special disease, +above all a “foolish graphomania,” is not comprehensible. The same +thing is true of the following case, which is either one of paranoia +or of imbecility: “Martin William was the brother of Jonathan, who, in +a fit of insanity, set fire to the cathedral of York, and likewise of +that John, who invented a new method of painting. He published numerous +works to demonstrate the possibility of perpetual motion. Having +convinced himself by thirty-six experiments that no perpetual motion +was possible, he experienced in a dream that God had elected him to +discover the principle of all things and the perpetual motion, which +subject he again treated in numerous writings.” Lombroso continues: +“These people would not appear to be insane were it not that, along +with the appearance of thoroughness and of resolute persistency in +one and the same pursuit (characteristics which they share alike with +monomaniacs and with men of genius), their writings never renounce +absurdities, continual contradictions, loquacious, foolish verbosity, +and another tendency--which we have found to be the strongest of all +in insane men of genius--I mean boundless vanity.” This is as much +as to say that these people would not appear insane if they were not +what they are; for, according to Lombroso’s own description, they are +degenerate, imbecile, weak-minded men. That they share a characteristic +with men of genius is not accurate, for, as Lombroso says, their +thoroughness and perseverance are only a false appearance, while genius +really possesses these qualities. + +If we are to attempt a division of degenerates into classes, the only +way will be to follow the plan of Morel and use the psychological +disproportion as our _directrix_, and thus bring degenerates with +deficient intelligence, with excessive or perverted impulses, fancy, +feeling, etc., under separate heads. To divide them upon the ground of +a not distinctly prominent symptom would be a regress rather than a +progress in our science. Perhaps the course which impels Lombroso to +select the particular symptom of writing much may be that this symptom +is the only one which can be communicated through those writings to +posterity and to the researcher in its whole extent, while others--such +as the numerous manias, weaknesses of mind, perversities, and other +weaknesses--require direct observation. + +Lombroso’s designations, “intellectual fools,” “foolish +graphomaniacs,” “fools of genius,” and “foolish geniuses” lead only +to misunderstandings and confusion of ideas, while it should be our +task to make our terms as precise as possible and keep them sharply +distinguished from one another. + +However various the clinical picture of the degenerate may be, yet, +in consequence of its common cause in all cases--namely, mental +instability, discord of the mental faculties--the cases always have +something to characterize them, and they give to the competent +observer no occasion to confound them with great, fully developed, and +harmonious minds. + + + + + INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON GENIUS. + + +It is a known fact that the higher an animal stands in the scale of +development, the more helpless and dependent it is immediately after +birth. The lowest of all classes of animals, the _Amœba_, as soon +as it comes into separate existence by partition, possesses all the +properties and faculties which are requisite to its life, or which it +ever can attain. The higher the genus is, the longer the time after +the commencement of individual life before the animal is capable of +caring for itself independently. The highest class, the Mammal, needs +maternal nourishment longer than any other being. The highest organized +creature, Man, develops more slowly and needs parental care longer +than anything that lives on earth. Among men, again, the rapidity of +individual development is in inverse proportion to the general state of +civilization of the people from whom that individual springs. Savages +develop faster than children among civilized peoples, and the woman +comes to maturity earlier than the male. + +The rapidity of development can afford no indication of the later +mental powers. A child which at seven years of age is uncommonly large +does not necessarily continue to grow in the same proportion. On the +contrary, it may turn out a short man; and we often see boys who are +small up to sixteen develop into tall men. Quite as little can we +predict that a precocious child will show distinguished ability when +it grows up; and backward children sometimes develop remarkable minds. +Linnæus, the great botanist, in his youth so neglected his classical +studies that his parents intended, on account of his poor progress at +school, to apprentice him to a shoemaker. But a physician remarked the +boy’s talent, and induced them to send him to the gymnasium.[95] Newton +was a dreamy child and for a long time was at the foot of his class. + +Far more important than the rapidity of mental development--upon +which vain parents are unfortunately apt to lay too great stress, to +the detriment of the child--is the uniformity of formation of the +different psychical factors. We have seen that mental degeneracy +does not necessarily imply a small degree of general development. It +mostly consists of a defective proportionality of the different mental +elements, and a disturbance of inward balance. + +The correct proportion of the impulses to the inhibiting intellect; the +equilibrium between the understanding and the feelings, between the +will, the attention, and the unconscious action of the brain, of the +fancy; a faculty of apprehension and memory in concord with the other +mental functions; a corresponding action of association--all these are +conditions for sane mental action. + +Sollier[96] rightly remarks that the state of the idiot is neither +like that of the child nor like that of the animal, for in the +child, as well as in the animal, the mental characters are suitably +proportionate, and the expression of the soul shows nothing morbid. + +A rational education must therefore aim chiefly at a uniformity of +mental development. Especially must it attend to this in the treatment +of children that have shown at home a defect of mental balance. There +are children that from earliest youth have disproportionately strong +impulses. There are others in whom there is a particularly strong +development of feeling and an unusually tender heart. If such children +do not receive suitable treatment, their state, which as a rule is +somewhat exalted of itself, may easily pass into hysteria. On the other +hand, many children have very little feeling. In common parlance, they +are “cold natures.” In others, again, the faculty of concentrating +their thoughts is more weakly developed than their other qualities. + +It is a moot question what influence education can have upon character, +especially how far it is able to correct disturbances of the process +of growth, and thus to prevent the occurrence of mental diseases. An +opinion defended by many is, that education has no influence whatever +upon the formation of character. It is said that genius, under all +circumstances, be the education good or bad, will “force its way.” On +the other hand, “born criminals,” it is said, in spite of the best +education, are destined to become criminals. All this I hold to be +absolutely false. But the contrary opinion, which makes the character +a product of education alone, and the whole mental life to depend upon +nothing but the experiences of the individual concerned, is a downright +absurdity. This is maintained by a schoolmaster, Gustav Hauffe,[97] who +takes for his motto, “Man is mentally only what education has made him +to be.” Dressed out in vestments of the most fashionably scientific cut +(his first part is entitled “Analytical and Synthetical Psychology”), +the author communicates his discovery that at birth the mind of man is +a _tabula rasa_ and that the diversity of its later development is to +be referred exclusively to differences of education and of experience. +Were it possible to educate two men exactly alike, they must, he +thinks, grow up precisely alike. Were a child to receive precisely +the same education and the same impressions as fell to the lot of +Goethe, he would necessarily become just as great a man. The doctrine +is that the whole mental action is analyzable into impressions of +sense, their associations, and ideas due to associative suggestion. +From this discovery the author undertakes to demonstrate the theorem +that “Schiller could never have written Laura am Klavier if no piano +and no Laura had existed.” To examine such nonsense would be a waste +of time. A windmill can not make meal unless it is fed with grain, as +every child knows, but, nevertheless, it is not the grain that runs +the mill, but the wind. Were all impressions withheld from a man as +far as possible, as in the case of Caspar Hauser, it is certain that, +even in a man capable of developing genius, mental action would be +at a standstill. But for all that, impressions by themselves could +effect nothing were there no mental powers to react upon them. The best +education can not convert a dullard into a sage nor an idiot into a +genius. + +To treat of the importance of education and set forth its psychological +principles in full would be the theme of a large book. I limit myself +here to some considerations which lead me to regard education as of +great importance for the development of character, particularly in the +case of a genius. + +A child that from its earliest childhood is accustomed to suffer +want and to see vice and cruelty necessarily has its feelings +dulled. How far in later life heart and sentiment may appear will +depend upon the proportion which the evil influence may bear to its +original and natural disposition. A child in which the exercise of +the intellect is altogether neglected will, at all events, be in +later years less strong than if it had had a solid training of the +understanding. The same thing, _mutatis mutandis_, is true for the +other mental characteristics--attention, the power of apprehension, +memory, the action of association and suggestion, fancy, will, energy, +perseverance, etc. All these powers are capable of being greatly +affected by exercise and custom. + +Experience shows that even with ordinary men impressions received in +youth are the most durable, and in many respects may have a momentous +influence upon the whole life. In a child endowed with genius this must +be true in much higher measure, for such a child, even in its earliest +years, observes surrounding events with marvellous acuteness; it +assimilates its impressions much more thoroughly, and infers much more +from them than an ordinary child. Moreover, owing to its lively fancy, +it will be much more affected by all influences, whether good or bad. + +Thus Nohl[98] says of Mozart: “Even as a child he was full of fire and +life; and without the admirable education which his earnest and strict +father gave him, he might have become the most reckless miscreant, so +sensitive was he to every excitation to whose good or bad influence +he was of an age to respond.” When Goethe in his sixth year heard of +the great earthquake at Lisbon, in which sixty thousand persons were +swallowed up in the twinkling of an eye, religious doubt arose for the +first time within him, and his faith in the goodness of Providence was +shattered. + +Great men have in most cases shown uncommonly high mental capacity in +their tenderest years. But this is not true without exception, for +there have been geniuses who were quite ordinary children. On the +other hand, it is a fact that frequently children that have matured +early and seemed to be highly gifted have not in later years fulfilled +the promise of their childhood. In part this may be a purely natural +phenomenon, due to no outward causes. But in many cases the outward +circumstances are traceable; and in particular a bad education has +been to blame for the loss to the world of the fruits of, perhaps, an +important genius. + +Education is the foundation upon which the whole man is built up. +Youthful impressions are not only decisive in their effect upon the +development of character, but they may even induce a predisposition to +diseases of the nerves and of the mind. It is altogether probable that, +among the innumerable cases which are set down as hereditary nervous +diseases, a considerable percentage is due less to actual inheritance +than to the impressions which a child has received from a hysterical +mother or from a father given to drink, combined with a defective +education. + +Von Krafft-Ebing[99] says: “Next to the organization of his brain, +a man has to thank his education for the idiosyncrasy of his mental +existence. Sometimes organization and education co-operate in calling +forth psychopathic predispositions, for parents not only in procreation +transmit an unfortunate organic constitution, but also upon the ground +of this organization afflicted with morbid passions, moral faults, and +eccentricities, further communicate their eccentricities and moral +transgressions to their children by their bad example and by mistaken +education.” + +Griesinger[100] says: “We agree with Ideler in thinking that there +are cases of so-called hereditary insanity which are not principally +due to the transmission of an organic disposition. A later psychical +propagation of characteristic peculiarities takes place. The child +imitates the example of certain eccentricities and of certain bizarre +and perverse tendencies and views of life; and this hinders the +commencement of the development of a healthy soul harmonizing with the +outward world. In this way hysteria may be communicated from a mother +to a daughter. So, too, may foolish or half-foolish parents infect +their children with mental distortions; and so passionateness and evil +inclination may set their impress upon young minds. It is to be added +that by such a state of the parents family life is often discomposed, +and thus the co-operation of those happy circumstances which are +essential requisites for the harmonious development of the child’s +character is destroyed.” + +It is not of the first consequence in education, especially with +precocious children, what and how much the child shall learn; for the +lacunæ of knowledge can, by the exercise of energy, always be filled +up. But the faculty of apprehension, the capacity for logical thought, +attentive concentration, close observation, etc., are things which +must be exercised from youth up; and it is very difficult to make good +in later years any deficiency which education may have left in these +respects. + +Care must be taken that the bodily training does not lag behind the +mental. This is specially requisite for precocious children. Their +ambition must be restrained within limits. They must not be allowed +to give themselves over to enthusiastic dreamings. Conceit and +vanity should be checked by hard facts. Moreover, such children are +particularly liable to a too early awakening of sexual impulses and +other sexual irregularities which require the closest attention from +their tutors. It is of great importance that children should early +appreciate the fundamental conceptions of morals, love of truth, the +obligation of a promise, unselfishness, etc. Yet too great an emphasis +upon these things is to be avoided, since the contrary effect may +easily be produced, inasmuch as for the attainment of the desired +result love and faith on the part of the child are requisite above +all. Of the greatest importance for the formation of character are the +development of the heart, refinement of feeling and sentiment, which +must be implanted in the child from its earliest childhood. “Much +can be effected under unfavorable circumstances by an intelligent +education. This must be adapted to the individual and free from +pedantry. It should be directed not to the formation of the intellect +alone, but also to that of the heart. This is the point in the +importance of which pedagogy, rightly conceived and treated, joins +with the doctrine of heredity.”[101] + +On children of lively fancy and fine feelings stories about fabulous +things and supernatural phenomena often have a bad effect, above all +when they are made use of to put children into a fright. In some +dispositions such methods of education may induce severe hysterical +states. “This detestable method of bringing up,” says Mosso,[102] “has +not yet disappeared; children are to this day agonized with stories +of Knecht Ruprecht, of fabulous monsters, werewolves, magicians, and +sorcerers. Every minute somebody says to children: ‘He will eat you +up’; ‘This bites you’; ‘Call the dog’; ‘There is the chimney-sweep’; +and a hundred other terrors which bring them to tears and deform their +friendly character by distressing them with constant threats, by a +system of torture which makes them timid and weak.” + +Children that are inclined to dreaminess, in whom fancy is active +and threatens to dispossesses the pure intellectual action, require +particular care, so that the child may as early as possible receive a +strong impression of the realities of life, and that there is in those +realities a stern and inflexible order, and as truthful a general +idea of what that order is like as possible. Pains must be taken to +prevent nurses’ tales, religious mysticism, and mythological fictions +from overexciting the fancy. It is in the knowledge of real things and +facts--first, the sense that there is a reality altogether different +from fancies; second, that it is undeviating in its order; third, +something of what that order is like--this must be the turning point of +education for imaginative children. If these precautions are not taken +by their parents, those children of fancy will be filled with images +utterly foreign to the real nature of things. Then, in later years, +when life presents itself to them in its naked truth, and castles in +the air come tumbling over their heads, they will find themselves +astray in the world, with nothing to protect them but fine words +unintelligible to the citizens, and will be hooted at and run down as +cranks and monkeys of genius. + +While the superintendence of the scientific education is the affair of +the father and of the pedagogue, it is the mother’s duty to look after +the formation of the heart and the sentiments. And what a momentous +charge is this! Think what that is to a man! Think what it is to a man +of genius! And what wonder is it that it should be popularly believed +that all great men were remarkably influenced by their mothers? Alas! +Alas! How many of the women of to-day see in this holy duty their +highest throne, their completest royalty? Modern economy compels many +women to work, and therefore to economize their intercourse with their +children. In such a case the fault lies with our social institutions +and not with the poor mothers, although there are even hard working +women, who somehow contrive to care for the corporal well-being of +their children, and for their spiritual health and nourishment too. + +But how is it with well-to-do ladies, who have time and means enough +to spend upon their children? Do they, for the most part, see in the +education of their children the great purpose of life? Do they feel +their highest bliss in self-forgetful, loving surrender of themselves +to this natural office? Yes, there are such mothers; and the number +of them measures the vitality of our civilization. They receive the +supreme homage which is their due. They receive it in their persons, +and it is extended to every woman who can be presumed to fulfil that +function or to be about to fulfil it. The vulgar throng of women are +not of that sort. Many women are honest enough to confess that the +education of their children is burdensome to them and that they find +no pleasure in it. They shift the irksome burden to the shoulders of +a stranger. Some mothers are foolish enough to think that a mother’s +love could be replaced by money. They believe that they fulfill their +duty by seeing that their children’s food is wholesome and their +clothes handsome. Perhaps they hire accomplished governesses or send +their children to expensive boarding-schools. But can a stranger ever +replace a true mother’s heart? No, never. Children who have lost a +mother are to be pitied. But children whose mother lives and is only +such a guardian to them as those above mentioned are in far worse +plight. The former can at least carry in their hearts the ideal of a +mother’s love; but for the latter even this is torn to rags, and with +it one of the anchors of life is lost. Many mothers use their children +to satisfy their personal vanity. From this motive they rig them out +like monkeys and flaunt around with them; they teach them speeches like +parrots, so as to be able to boast of them and occupy attention with +them, and that they can tell themselves that they have been doing their +children some good. It is not the ennobling of the childish heart that +is the motive of such mothers’ action, but the satisfaction of their +own petty vanity. + +I have already said that with children of high mental gifts and +with precociously developed power of apprehension the influence of +youthful impressions, as well as their whole education, is of uncommon +importance for their after-life. Let us cast a glance upon the youth +and education of some super-eminent men. + +Of Goethe it is said: + +“Seldom has a boy exhibited such completeness of human faculties. +The multiplied activity of his life is prefigured in the varied +tendencies of his childhood. We see him as an orderly, somewhat formal, +inquisitive, reasoning, deliberative child, a precocious learner, an +omnivorous reader, and a vigorous logician who thinks for himself--so +independent that at six years of age he doubts the beneficence of the +Creator, at seven doubts the competence and justice of the world’s +judgment. He is inventive, poetical, proud, loving, volatile, with a +mind open to all influences, swayed by every gust, and yet, while thus +swayed as to the direction of his activity, master over himself.”[103] +One sees from this short picture what enormous influence education and +the impressions of childhood must have had upon his after-life. His +mind was “open to all influences, swayed by every gust.” The careful +education which young Goethe received aided in no small degree in the +unfolding of his mighty genius. His father conducted the education with +strictness and conscientiousness, and the scientific instruction was +systematically arranged. + +His excellent mother knew how to mould her child’s tender heart in +its early childhood, how to bring his fancy into exercise, and how +to impress him with a sense of the noble and the beautiful. Her +relations with her children are truly touching. She herself reports +how she told stories every evening to little Wolfgang and his sister +Cornelia: “I could not be tired of telling them as long as he was +not tired of listening. I represented Fire, Water, Earth, and Air +as beautiful princesses, and gave a meaning to all that goes on in +Nature. I believed in it myself more implicitly than my listeners did; +and when we pretended there were roads between the stars, and that +we should some time live in stars, and thought what great spirits we +should meet up there, nobody was ever more eager than I for the hour of +story telling with the children, nor more vexed when some invitation +I had received prevented it. There sat I, and there was he devouring +me with his great black eyes; and if the fate of any favourite did +not go right according to his sense, I could see how the angry vein +would swell in his forehead and how he would choke down his tears. +Many a time he would interfere before I could bring about the turn of +affairs, and would say, ‘I hope, mother, that the princess will not +marry the accursed tailor even if he did slay the giant?’ Then if I +made a halt and put off the catastrophe to the next evening, I could +be sure that he would repeat everything aright up to that point, and +where my imagination fell short it would often be patched out by his. +Then, if I took up the threads of fate on the next evening and turned +them according to his plan and said, ‘You guessed it! that is what +happened!’ he would be all fire and flame, and his little heart could +be seen to beat under his ruffle. He was his grandmother’s pet, and to +her he would confide all his ideas of how the story would go; and from +her I would learn how it must run to conform to his wishes; and in this +way there was a secret diplomatic transaction between us which neither +of us betrayed to the other. So I had the satisfaction of continuing +my tales to the delight and astonishment of my auditor, who, without +recognising that he was the author of all my marvellous occurrences, +saw with glowing eyes events fall out according to his keenly desired +plans, and greeted the finishing of it with enthusiastic applause.” +What unspeakable thanks Goethe owed this mother, who so completely gave +herself up to the care and love of her children! + +Schiller, according to the accounts of his biographers, had in his +youth no extraordinary mental qualities, though his capacity was good +and his diligence intense. “The boy,” we read, “felt that without +diligence no mastery can be won.” His education, which his strict +father most conscientiously superintended, was exceedingly solid +and thorough. His extremely rich-hearted--or, as the Germans say, +_gemüthvolle_--mother surrounded him with an atmosphere of love. She +had plainly a great share in his education. Scharffenstein, a youthful +friend of Schiller, says of her: “Her son was the image of her in +figure and physiognomy. Her dear face was very feminine and mild. +Never was there seen a more admirable, domestic, and feminine woman.” +Körner, in his biography, says of Schiller: “In many respects he was +a backward child, and certainly was not one of those who gratify the +vanity of their parents by precocious acquirements and talents. But +even in his childhood his soft heart, combined with a firm will, his +good faith, and his attachment to those who had won his love, together +with his easily roused fancy, were plainly discernible.” His remarkably +intelligent father and his warm-hearted mother supplied him with a +superior education. “He had from childhood a ruling bent for poetry; +but his father considered his own duty to be merely to tolerate his +son’s first essays, not to encourage them. He had too lofty an ideal of +art to permit himself, in a case so near to him, not to exercise due +care lest a mere inclination should be mistaken for an avocation.” + +Raphael, though he lost his mother in his eighth and his father in +his eleventh year, received a good education and rounded development. +Galileo, Newton, Linnæus, Fénelon, Arago, early showed acute +understanding, and all were liberally educated. Haydn, though born in +narrow circumstances, received an exceptional and loving education. He +expressed his gratitude for it in later years, and was most strongly +attached to his mother, who had always most tenderly cared for his +well-being. Liszt was brought up with the utmost love and care. His +father early recognised his genius, and once exclaimed: “You are elect +of destiny, and will realize that ideal of art which cast a vain +glamour over my youth. In you I wish to rejuvenate and propagate my +soul.” Franz was a weakly child in body and was in need of a good deal +of parental concern, and it was prodigally bestowed. His father kept a +diary devoted to him “with the minute and anxious punctiliousness of a +tender father.” Washington’s father, dying when George was eleven years +old, had such confidence in the highly intelligent and prudent mother, +that he gave her, by his will, full control of all the property of the +children until they should come of age. This lady fulfilled every duty +of a mother with the utmost love and tenderest concern, and gave them +an excellent education. Kant said: “I shall never forget my mother, for +she planted and tended the first germs of good in me. She opened my +heart to the impressions of Nature. She awakened and expanded my ideas; +and her teachings have had an enduring and wholesome influence upon my +life.” + +Heine had an admirable mother, whose only endeavour it was to transmit +to her children the excellent education that she had herself received +in her father’s house. Her favourite authors were Goethe and Rousseau. +The reading of Emile had made education rather a hobby of hers. +She herself taught the boys to read and write, and most carefully +superintended their instruction. “To her,” we read in a biography of +Heine, “he clung with an affecting child-love. He sang her praises in +charming poems, and referred to her continually in his writings with +the sincerest piety.” + +A genius of whom Heine says that “he was one of the greatest German +poets, and among all our dramatists nearest approached Shakespeare,” +was ruined by vice and debauchery. This was Dietrich Grabbe, whose +father was director of a house of correction and of a pawn shop. He +suffered the gloomiest impressions in his childhood, and these were +increased by his neglected and perverse education. A biographer of the +poet accuses his mother of having led him to drink, but Heine defends +the woman from this charge, saying that it is false. Still, even +Heine, in his attempt to rehabilitate the honour of the mother of his +colleague, says: “She was a rough dame, the wife of a turnkey, and in +caressing her wolf cub, Dietrich, she perhaps sometimes scratched him +a bit with the claws of a she-wolf.” What might a genius like Grabbe +not have become if his education had been conducted by a mother like +Goethe’s? + +A multiform genius, equally gifted in poetry, music, and painting, was +E. T. A. Hoffmann. His parents separated after a short and unhappy +marriage, and his mother, who with her children was invited to her +mother’s, was prevented by bad health from concerning herself with +their education. It was left to the grandmother and an uncle, and +was so conducted as to exercise in many respects a decidedly unhappy +influence upon the formation of the boy’s character. It dealt with all +that regards the formation of the intellect and the information of the +memory. He received superior instruction in the sciences and the arts. +But the mother’s influence was wanting. The formation of the character +and of the heart was neglected. The pedantic peculiarities of the uncle +served as motive to the boy’s satiric pencil and leaning toward the +bizarre. To the remonstrances which his friend Hippel addressed to him +concerning his disrespectful deportment to his relatives he replied: +“What luck have I had with my relatives? If I had had people like you +for my father and my uncle I would not behave so.” In spite of his +genius, his works show a craziness for which his perverse education is +sufficient to account. At last he gave himself over to drink, and that +not from need or anxiety, with which he had certainly been acquainted, +but just at the time when fortune smiled upon him and he had been +absolved from all sordid cares. + +Schopenhauer had a mother mentally gifted indeed, but cold. In his +early youth an antagonism arose between mother and son. When he showed +her his first work--The Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient +Reason--she ironically remarked: “A book for apothecaries, is it not?” +She was herself an authoress, and he replied: “My books will live +after yours have long been relegated to the lumber room.” She retorted: +“Your books will never go to the lumber room, because nobody will buy +them at all.” This want of motherly love may well have had more than a +slight influence upon the character and later life of the philosopher. +Much in his life might have shaped itself otherwise if he had been able +to look back upon a youth beautified by a mother’s love. Perhaps the +repellent coldness of his mother laid the foundation for his subsequent +disparagement of women. + +Rousseau’s mother died at his birth. His father was a poor watchmaker +who could not concern himself much about the education of his son. +When the father had to flee on account of an affair of honour, the son +went into a boarding-school, where he was treated hardly and unjustly. +Later he was apprenticed to an engraver, and in that situation he +read during his leisure all the books in a circulating library. Being +ill-treated by his master, he left him, and at the age of fifteen +wandered about Savoy until he was recommended by a Catholic priest to +Madame de Warens. She was a very good-hearted but morally weak woman, +who spoiled her _protégé_ exceedingly, and soon converted him from +an adopted son into a lover. Such youthful impressions must, it is +plain, have had a very disadvantageous influence upon the character of +Rousseau. Many an absurdity of his later life is to be attributed to +his unfortunate youth. How far his bad education, or rather his total +want of education, may have acted upon the later development of the +derangement of his mind is a question not to be decided with certainty. + +Byron’s parents having separated, he was educated, or rather not +educated, only by a mother of weak and overemotional character and +an old nurse. The consequence was that he developed a very unstable +character, became addicted to wild excesses, later suffered from +hallucinations; and, in short, his genius did not unfold itself at all +as it otherwise would have done. + +These few examples are not offered as an inductive argument to +establish a connection between education and character, as if it were +otherwise unknown to us, as Lombroso, for example, gives lists to show +that men of genius are commonly undersized, etc. They are offered as +illustrations which, when we know what that connection is in ordinary +cases, may disabuse the mind of an unfounded notion that genius is an +exception to the general rule, and which will help us to imagine what +the early life of a genius is, and how he is _more_ and not _less_ +influenced by education than another boy would be, agreeably to the +deductive arguments we have already set forth. + +The circumstance that there have been men of genius (not so numerous, +perhaps, as is supposed) who, in spite of an education, either +defective or positively baleful, have worked their way to fame and +public usefulness, does not in the slightest degree conflict with our +proposition, for we can never know what degree of perfection they +might have attained with a better education. We do know that some of +those who ultimately impressed themselves upon the minds of their +own age and upon those which succeeded it, had been at one time in +danger of turning out nonentities in consequence of early influences, +and were only awakened by some fortunate chance; and, finally, in +anthropological questions we must not expect to find rules without any +exceptions whatever. + +Beethoven developed the greatest musical genius, although his youth was +not cheerful and his education was very faulty. His father, himself +a musician, took care to form his son in music in a thorough manner, +especially as the son’s genius was recognisable in his childhood; but +the moral impressions which he received as a boy were not calculated to +influence happily a young heart or a character in process of formation. +The father was given to drink; and Ludwig’s young friend, Stephan von +Brenning, once saw the drunken father rescued from the police by the +son in the open street. Certainly, such things could not fail to make +their mark upon the still plastic character. Nohl says, “The reticence +and a certain defiant spirit of his youth and manhood must be referred +to such harsh experiences.” + +Disadvantageous as a bad education may, even under ordinary +circumstances, be expected to be to a genius, both with respect to +his character and to his intellect, it will be still more fatal in +case he has a strongly marked fancy with but moderate gifts in other +directions. Children in whom inordinate fancy or feelings somewhat +overbalance their other faculties may, nevertheless, by the aid of +an energetic education, with continued training of their memory, +attention, will, etc., be made productive and capable men, while +without a rational education they would fall into the category of +pseudo-geniuses or fools of genius. + +Thus we see the enormous importance of education--not merely school +instruction, but the impressions of the family circle upon the child +and the youth. Especially momentous for the child’s later destiny +is the mother’s part in education. Every innovation in our social +habits tending to diminish the mother’s large share in the education +of her children ought to be considered as prejudicial to the progress +of humanity. Public schools answer well enough to teach children +arithmetic and geography, but no institution can for one moment be +thought of as a substitute for the bringing up by a whole-hearted +mother. It is the natural vocation of the woman; and every wife who, +from motives of ease, pleasure, or vanity, tries to shirk that duty, +has, by an unnatural civilization, been brought to a lower moral level +than her cat or her slut, either of which, by instinct, surrenders +itself ungrudgingly to its maternal duties. Oh, mothers, take these +things to heart! Learn to recognise that no higher or nobler task is +presented to a human being than the self-forgetting and love-abounding +education of one’s own children. Nature herself sanctifies this duty, +and upon its performance the destiny of the race depends. + +Before I leave this subject, let me animadvert to a phenomenon +interesting in many respects--that of the precocious child. What is a +precocious child? As I have already mentioned, the majority of great +geniuses have shown in their childhood great mental capacities, which, +according to their inborn dispositions, were specially developed in one +direction or another. A child whose capacity in a special branch is so +high that it is able to perform things which “astound the multitude” +is generally called an “infant phenomenon” or precocious child. It +is an established fact of experience that, with very few exceptions, +precocious children are found exclusively in the branch of practical +music. This fact is not so much due to the earlier development of +musical genius, for Raphael, Michel Angelo, and Thorwaldsen equally +showed in their early childhood a very uncommonly great gift for their +art. But were they able “to astound the multitude”? The performance +of a precocious child can only astound when the multitude is able to +compare the fine result with the youth of the performer. A child, be it +never so gifted, is not at the apogee of its ability; but allowances +are made for its years. The performance--unless, indeed, it be a very +incomplex result, like the answer to an arithmetical problem, or a +feat of memory--is in itself hardly to be called extraordinary even +in the most phenomenal cases. But it is the circumstance that it is +done by a child that makes it wonderful. The work of the child-poet or +child-artist, whatever its genius, when abstracted from its authorship, +will not amaze the multitude as a musical performance will do. The poem +or picture endures, and thus can be subjected to criticism irrespective +of the personality of the artist, whether the author be boy or man. +It is different with musical execution. In the concert-hall the +personality of the male or female artist exercises upon the public no +inconsiderable influence of that kind which is generally designate by +the term _suggestion_. + +As I have already said, the artistic performance of a child is, in +itself considered, always slighter than that of an accomplished artist. +But to see a little seven-year-old boy seat himself at a piano before a +vast or distinguished audience and play it with his little hands, that +is what, as a natural phenomenon, not as a work of pure art, astounds +the multitude. + +Opinions may differ as to whether art institutions and associations +ought to confine themselves strictly to striving after the highest pure +art, in the faith that thereby the sentiment and heart of the nation +may be ennobled, or whether they may admit, as a secondary purpose, the +bringing before the public of anthropological curiosities. For my part, +the circus rather than the concert-hall seems to me their proper place. +Kant says: “A precocious genius of ephemeral existence, like Heinecke +in Lübeck and Baratier in Halle, are departures of Nature from her +rule, curiosities for a naturalist’s cabinet. They cause astonishment +on account of their early age; but they often disappoint those who +bring them forward.” Let everybody choose for himself what class of +entertainments he prefers, and to that end I would send the curiosities +to the curiosity shops. + +But there is a rather more serious, not to say solemn, side to the +public exhibition of precocities; and the psychiatrist would neglect a +duty if he failed to refer to it. Remembering what the importance of +education and childish impressions has been seen to be, let anybody +picture to himself what the life of an “infant phenomenon” is, and what +are the impressions that are made upon it. A wise education, in such a +case, would primarily be directed to avoiding the evil consequences of +vanity and of a deadening self-consciousness. But this poor victim of +the crowd and of money-getting is covered every night with medals and +decorations from shoulders to waist, and is exposed to the stupendous +plaudits of a brilliant assemblage. His childish heart needs forming; +all that is noxious should be screened from his imagination; but +instead of that, newspaper puffs and the nauseously indiscriminate +praise of society blunt his feeling and nip his nobler sentiments in +the bud. The consequence of this--bad education, as I was about to +call it, but that is not the word for it--this wicked ill-treatment, +is the destruction of the genius of almost every such child. They +are not taught that not even genius can climb the rugged steeps of +Parnassus without diligence and labour. They are told that they are +perfect, and that their performances are above criticism. But when, +at last, they have to appear, no longer in the child’s stockings and +black velvet frock, but in the man’s dress-coat, that nimbus round the +phenomenon melts away; and then it is perceived that the development +of their genius has undergone mischievous perturbations. The character +is unformed; the mental balance all out; and, in short, the wonderful +child is, after all, nothing but a fool. No empty theory is this, but +manifold experience. Such fools, who in their childhood were driven +about the world to the sound of drum and trumpet, are numerous. It is +high time that judicious men should protest against the unspeakable +outrage which vain and mercenary parents and unscrupulous impressarios, +who look upon a child of genius as nothing but an article of trade, +commit upon these precocities. + +The defenders of this abuse tell us that Mozart, Beethoven, and +Mendelssohn were all infant prodigies. But what of that? If a physician +recommends that our children should eat wholesome food and breathe good +air, will you retort, “Pshaw! I know of several children that ate the +most unwholesome things, were exposed to all sorts of bad influence, +and yet they grew up all right and are marvels of rugged health; so +you see it makes no difference how children are brought up?” Besides, +Mozart and Mendelssohn were not treated like the youthful prodigies +of to-day. I have already mentioned what an intelligent father Mozart +had, and how, in spite of his son’s public appearance, in accordance +with the morals of those days, he gave him a superior education. +Mendelssohn’s teacher, old Zelter, always had it at heart to preserve +his scholar’s childlike modesty and to guard him against self-conceit. +And then, how much, after all, did these children play in public +compared with the professional tours of the precocious child of to-day? +Yet, notwithstanding the comparative infrequency of the performances, +those art journeys certainly had no happy influence either upon Mozart +or upon Beethoven. Mozart lived all his life in a highly wrought state +of the nerves, and died at the meridian of life with a fatally diseased +brain. The sad influence of the dreary youth of Beethoven upon the +development of his character has already been noticed. + +We hear it said that precocious children in poor circumstances have +no other way of getting the money requisite for a rational education +than by such concert tours. Were this assertion verified, it would be +time that such a shocking state of things were put to an end. In the +“land of the Almighty Dollar,” as it is called, besides a “Society for +the Protection of Animals” there is a “Society for the Protection of +Children,” invested with certain powers by law; and not long ago, when +a precocious child had been sent over from Germany to win dollars, +the doors of the hall were closed by the authority of that society, +and, much to the disgust of the Herr Impressario, whose business was +damaged, public performances were prohibited. The wonderful child +was sent home by a philanthropist, and with the child was sent a +considerable sum of money, this being intrusted to the father, under +the condition that the child should be provided with a thorough +education and should not appear in public until he was grown up. It is +to be hoped that the time is now not far distant when the destruction +of a genius for the sake of material interests shall belong to the +barbarities overthrown by civilization. + + + + + SECULAR HYSTERIA. + + +Hitherto mental states of individuals have been our chief study in +this book. But collective phenomena of mental disturbance are likewise +met with at several distinct periods of history. The influence which +the insane have exerted upon different branches of human production +and upon the general development of humanity has been already pointed +out. We have particularly referred to the influence of individuals, +such as weak-minded benefactors of the people, mad prophets, and the +imbecile Roman emperors who displayed what is called moral insanity. +But besides such individual phenomena there is a form of mental disease +the peculiarity of which is that it attacks not isolated individuals, +but epidemically entire communities, and in that way influences the +development and metaphysical conceptions (_Weltanschauung_) of whole +nations. + +A correct recognition of such states will be of no slight value for +the community; for along with the recognition comes, as we shall see, +an indication of the way to improvement and remedy. Thus it becomes +the task of modern psychiatry not only to treat individual patients, +but also to observe society, and especially to keep guard against that +phenomenon which ought to be termed Secular Hysteria (_Zeithysterie_). + +It is a pretty widespread opinion that nervous diseases, and especially +hysteria, have alarmingly increased during the last decades, and that +they are about to increase much more. In all civilized countries, +we are told, and in every stratum of the population, a weakness of +the nervous system manifests itself of which our forefathers had no +knowledge. Neurasthenia and hysteria spread wider and wider, like a +devastating epidemic, attacking not merely the lower classes but just +the “upper ten thousand.” It is educated society which is threatened +with total overthrow by utter derangement of the nerves. “Whither is +this to lead, and how is it to end?” lament some solicitous prophets +who already see yawning before them the gulf by which the enervated +human race is about to be swallowed up. + +Let us weigh the reasons which occasion this apprehension. What real +proof is there of this enormous increase of nervous diseases and of +the continually progressive degeneration of civilized man? First of +all, there are the statistics. “Numbers,” we have been told, “can not +lie.” Perhaps not; but those who collect them may fasten upon them very +seriously mistaken labels. + +The assiduous statistician ascertains that the insane asylums contain +more women than men. So far, so good. But if he tells us that more +women are insane than men, he labels those numbers erroneously, +for the inequality is really due to the fact that insane males die +off, while insane females survive, relatively speaking. Suppose the +statistics of different countries do show that the number of inmates +of insane asylums is increasing out of all proportion to the growth of +the general population, would it not be superficial in the extreme to +conclude, without further data, that insanity was upon the increase? +At present these statistics mean nothing more than that the number of +patients in such institutions has considerably increased. But when we +consider what great advances have been made in the diagnosis of mental +diseases, and consider also that a great number of such cases, which +were formerly treated unsuccessfully at home, are now treated in such +institutions with good results, because there they are removed from the +detrimental influences of familiar surroundings, while the proper means +and methods for rational treatment are at hand, we shall find that the +seemingly enormous increase of mental disturbances need not cause us +uneasiness. + +Other extensive statistical material for nervous diseases is afforded +by the numerous dispensaries of the great cities; but no extended +experience is required to teach that a large proportion of such +cases would not appear if the patients had to pay fixed fees, and +round ones, as they had to do in the good old times when physicians +saw comparatively little of nervous diseases. Our grandmothers had +their “headaches” and their “twitchings in the limbs” like the women +of to-day; but they never dreamed of calling a doctor or going to +the dispensary for such things, so that they were not “statistical +material.” + +In the dispensaries for nervous diseases there are numerous chronical +patients who, becoming discouraged in one place, think they would like +to try another doctor; and some of them make a round of sojourns in +different hospitals. Each of them is counted as many times over in the +statistics as there are places where he is treated. This perceptibly +increases the numbers. + +These considerations give some idea, though but a slight one, of the +extreme difficulty of making even rough approximate inferences from +sanitary statistics. + +But certain observers tell us that exact enumeration is not required. +Hysteria and degeneration of the race stare us, as they aver, daily +in the face. In every department of human activity disorders of the +nervous system are seen. The very style and methods of the art and +literature of the day proclaim a general nervous prostration. + +Max Nordau is the protagonist of this widespread opinion. In his eyes, +mental degeneration has seized upon the majority of civilized men to +such a degree that “the upper strata of urban population” form but a +“suffering hospital.” The art, the poetry, the fiction, the philosophy +of the day present the most manifold embodiments of degeneration and +of secular hysteria. + +Nordau admits, of course, that degeneration and hysteria have always +existed. “But,” says he, “they formerly showed themselves sporadically, +and had no importance in the life of the whole community. It was only +the vast fatigue which was experienced by the generation on which the +multitude of discoveries and innovations burst abruptly, imposing upon +it organic exigencies greatly surpassing its strength, which created +favourable conditions under which these maladies could gain ground +enormously and become a danger to civilization.”[104] The conception of +secular hysteria which advances epidemically and attacks whole classes +is therefore, according to Nordau, only applicable to the present time; +and of this he says: “We stand now in the midst of a severe mental +epidemic; of a sort of black death of degeneration and hysteria.”[105] + +But in declaring that in former times hysteria was but of sporadic +occurrence and attained no importance for the life of society as a +whole, Nordau falls into a grave error. Mental diseases, and especially +hysteria, have, from the earliest times to the present, exercised a +tremendous influence upon the current _Weltanschauung_ or metaphysical +conception of the universe and upon the whole mental development, and +that precisely because they not only occurred sporadically, but, as +we shall soon see, attacked the masses in the form of epidemics, and +so became of the highest significance and importance for the life of +society as a whole. + +Religious enthusiasm and proneness to the mystic and the occult +formed, even in the highest antiquity, an important factor of those +degenerate and hysterical individuals who entertained the delusion that +they were in communication with good or with bad spirits, and who by +that channel influenced the masses not a little. A great number of +the priestesses who delivered oracular responses to the Greeks “with +strong quakings of their body” were psychopathic subjects undergoing +the hysterical convulsions well known to us to-day. Hence epilepsy, +which in those days was not discriminated from hysterical cramps, +came to be called the _morbus sacer_, or sacred disease. Plutarch, +in his description of the Pythian priestess, delineates the typical +image of a hysterical subject who, in ecstatic convulsion, stammered +unintelligible words, into which the priests injected some sense. +But hysteria, with its inclination to religious enthusiasm, was not +limited to separate persons. On the contrary, we meet with it among all +peoples and in all periods of history; and among all peoples we meet +with it in the form of epidemics of various kinds. But never did this +disease find a better or more fertile soil in which to thrive than in +the Middle Ages of northern Europe, marked as they were by ignorance +and superstition; and, accordingly, we find that epidemics of hysteria +then assumed dimensions surpassing those of any similar outbursts in +other centuries. A great many fine books have been written about the +individual and epidemic crazes of those ages. The French have made +particularly careful researches into the matter. Let it suffice here to +adduce a few examples in order to show how great an influence hysteria, +in its collective manifestation, exercised upon the social relations +and entire development of civilization of those times. + +Calmeil[106] describes a great number of hysterical epidemics of +different forms. One of the principal eruptions in Germany was +demonomania, or _Teufelswahn_. “In the year 1549,” says Calmeil, “a +delusion called _Vaudoisie_ prevailed in Artois, that the devils +carried many secretly in the night to the assemblies, where compacts +were made with Satan and where carnal intercourse took place. Without +knowing how, the participants of the nocturnal meetings found +themselves next morning back in their dwellings. At the place of +assemblage is a devil of human form whose face, however, is seen by +none. He reads his commands to them, and then every one has to offer +an indecent salute; and he gives them money, wine and food in great +quantities. Thereupon each takes a woman--for there are women and men +together there--the light is extinguished, and they carnally converse. +Suddenly every one is back at the place whence he came. On account +of this delusion many persons of Arras, both gentle and simple, were +imprisoned and stretched on the rack.”[107] + +A manifestation equally widespread in Germany was anthropophagy--that +is, the delusion that the Devil and his worshippers lived on human +flesh. Men were believed to live in the neighbourhood of Berne and of +Lausanne who had given themselves to the Devil and who ate their own +children. Hundreds of men were for this stretched on the rack or burned +at the stake. Indeed, there were a number of insane persons who thought +that they themselves were in league with the Devil, and that they slew +children. A woman who was executed at Berne testified: “We lie in +wait especially for unbaptized children, but also for those who are +baptized, particularly when they are not protected by the sign of the +cross. We kill them by our words and ceremonies as they lie in their +cradles or by their parents’ sides. So people suppose they have been +stifled or have just died of themselves. Then we secretly steal them +out of the earth and boil them until, after separating the bones, the +whole meat becomes fluid and potable. Of the more solid parts we make +a magic salve for our arts and transformations. We bottle the juice, +and when a neophyte drinks a few drops of it he has a share in our +science.”[108] + +The bull of Innocent VIII, which appeared in 1484, showed how +deep-rooted the devil-delusion was in Germany. Everywhere people talked +of how there was a great league with devils whose votaries committed +deeds of shame in their assemblies; of how they were under obligation +to destroy and consume newborn babes before they were baptized. In +one year after the publication of the bull, forty-one women were +executed in Burbia because in their nocturnal assemblies they always +strangled, boiled, and ate a child. Midwives were on the Rhine feared +more than ordinary witches. Since their calling brought them daily +into connection with newborn babes, it must plainly be of the utmost +consequence to the Devil to win them over to his service. A midwife +who was burned alive at Dann, near Basel, accused herself of having +killed more than forty children.[109] Bodin adds that she afterward +by night disinterred the bodies and ate of them, baking the meat in +a stove.[110] Among the persons who were burned in Strassburg, one +woman was distinguished by her insensibility to the most terrible +tortures. She declared that this freedom from pain was due to her +being embrocated with the fat of a newborn child.[111] This sort of +delirium was very widely spread under Innocent III. “The inclination to +worship the Devil appears in many families to be hereditary and in many +localities to be endemic.” The religious delusion was, as is commonly +the case, connected with states of sexual excitement and delusions +belonging thereto. + +Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there broke out in many +places in Germany, especially in convents, epidemic convulsions which +exhibited the typical image of _la grande hystérie_ and were connected +with symptoms of religious delusions and of sexual excitement. Calmeil +cites the following report upon the malady in one convent: “The +majority of the nuns had at that time been living for more than fifty +days exclusively upon turnip juice. Their sickness would begin by the +vomiting of a black liquid so sharp and acrid that it would take the +skin off their tongues and lips. Their nights soon became restless. +They would suddenly walk in their sleep. They would think they heard +a sound of human lamentation, and on hurrying to the spot would find +nobody. When they had passed their urine, they immediately afterward +wet the bed or their linen. They often had the sensation of being +tickled on the soles of their feet, and could not keep from laughing. +They were thrown out of bed and rolled on the floor, as if they had +been pulled out by the feet. Their arms and legs were contorted in +every direction, and their faces were convulsively drawn up. They +would leap high and then fling themselves with all their force upon +the floor again. Many bore bruises on their bodies. Often, when they +seemed perfectly quiet and sane, they would suddenly fall down, lose +the use of speech, and remain stretched on the ground as if they had +completely lost consciousness. Then they would throw themselves out of +their apparent immobility convulsively into the air with such violence +and strength that those about could hardly hold them down. Many found +it too hard to keep themselves erect, and crawled on their hands and +knees. Others clambered up to the roof beams, and let themselves hang +head down.”[112] + +Such cases of typical hysteria appeared everywhere in the form of +epidemics, and with special frequency in convents. Of one convent +we read: “It was singular that as soon as one nun had her fit, the +others, even in distant parts of the building, would immediately go off +into fits as soon as they heard the noise of a person falling. The nuns +had no power of will at all; they bit themselves, struck and bit their +mates, knocked against one another, and endeavoured vehemently to wound +strangers. Upon any attempt to control the indecency of their conduct, +their tumult and exaltation would become more angry. If they were left +to themselves, they would soon come to biting and wounding without +seeming to feel the least pain.” Such subjects were considered to be +bewitched or possessed of the Devil. They were treated by exorcisms and +conjurations which often increased their sufferings. + +Not women alone were attacked by the disease; men were visited in +the same way. Gilles de la Tourette[113] gives an account of such an +epidemic, according to a description by Hecker.[114] We read: “In +Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1574, troops of men and women from Germany were +seen labouring under a common madness and displaying in the streets +and churches this singular spectacle. With clasped hands, and carried +away by an inward compulsion which they could not master, they danced +for hours and kept up the spectacle without being abashed by those +who were about, until they would fall exhausted to the ground. Then +they would complain of their great agony, and would groan as though +they were going to die, until people wrapped their abdomens with linen +cloths, whereupon they would come to themselves and be free for a time +from their sufferings. The object of this was to dispel the wind which +set in after the attack. People often resorted to the simpler method +of planting blows of the fist or kicks upon their abdomens. During +their dance the subjects had visions. They did not see or hear; but in +their imagination they beheld spirits whose names they pronounced, or +rather shrieked out.... In well-developed cases the fits began with +epileptiform convulsions. The subjects fell snorting to the ground +without consciousness, and foamed at the mouth. Then, all at once, they +got up and began their dance with frightful wrenchings. In a few months +this plague extended from Aix-la-Chapelle as far as the Netherlands.” + +Like the men and women, children were likewise attacked. Calmeil +adduces the following example: “Toward the end of the winter of 1566 +the majority of the foundlings in the hospital of Amsterdam were seized +with convulsions and delirium. Thirty children (other accounts say +seventy) suffered from the malady. They tumbled suddenly to the ground, +rolled from half an hour to an hour upon the floor, as if possessed, +and when they then stood up they awoke as from a deep sleep. They did +not know what had happened. Prayers, conjurations, and exorcisms of +such power that they would certainly have driven out the Devil were +of no avail. After a longer duration of the disease the children +finally began to vomit. They threw up nails, needles, wool, pieces of +linen, bits of skin, and other foreign bodies which they had secretly +swallowed down. They climbed like cats upon the walls and roofs, spoke +in unknown tongues, and had such a terrific look that it scared people. +This was more than sufficient for regarding them as possessed. At the +sight of many women they made peculiar gestures, and such women were +regarded as witches.”[115] + +A phenomenon often seen to-day in insane asylums is, that patients +think themselves to be beasts, such as dogs, cats, monkeys, wolves, +etc., and behave accordingly. In the Middle Ages this gave rise to +the superstition of the Werewolf. The word is formed from _wolf_ and +the obsolete word _wër_, in Gothic _vair_, in Latin _vir_, man. Such +persons, who during epidemics were sometimes found in great numbers, +ran about the woods on all fours, lived and behaved exactly like +beasts, fell upon men who might pass by, attacked even riders and +vehicles, and stole children and devoured their flesh. Such things +were known to the ancients too. The Scythians, according to Herodotus, +knew the werewolf; the Greeks, especially the Arcadians, spoke of a +λυκάνθρωπος; and the Romans of the _versipellis_. Toward the end of the +year 1573 the peasants in the vicinity of Dôles were authorized to hunt +werewolves. The parliamentary license ran thus: “In the territories +of Espagny, Salvange, Courchapon and surrounding places, it is known +that for some days a werewolf has been seen. It has secretly stolen +and killed several children, and has also attacked riders who have +escaped it with difficulty. In consideration of all these things, this +court of justice, wishing to avoid greater damage, allows the inmates +and inhabitants of the said places and others, contrary to the edict +concerning hunting, to come together with spears, halberds, pikes, +crossbows, and sticks to hunt and pursue the said werewolf in all +places where they can find him, and to bind him and to kill him without +punishment or revenge.... Given in the council of the said court of +justice this 13th day of September, in the year of grace 1573.”[116] A +man captured as a werewolf confessed that he was changed into a beast, +and asserted that his skin grew inside out so that the fur was not +seen. They cut off his arms and legs, to make sure he spoke the truth, +and he bled to death. + +The disease of demonomania continued to spread. According to one +report, a thousand dancers filled the streets of Metz. Young people of +both sexes fled from their parents, and servants from their masters, +and allowed themselves to be carried away by the epidemic, and to take +part in the insane proceedings.[117] + +In the electoral see of Trèves, within a few years, six thousand five +hundred men were executed as enchanted and as bewitched. + +“In 1609 the Government was informed that all Labourd, the +district approximately coinciding with the present Département des +Basses-Pyrénées swarmed with devil-worshippers. Seven-and-twenty +parishes were attacked by the malady. The difficulty was greatest in +Siboure, St. Jean de Luz, Andage, and the neighbourhood of Bayonne. The +account of this epidemic is a shining contribution to the history of +insanity as a social disease.”[118] All these sufferers were considered +as bewitched and possessed. The ministers of Henry IV held it to be +imperatively requisite to bring the whole power of justice against +witches; and hundreds of human beings were burned or incarcerated. The +judges worked the rack actively in order to get complete confessions +from the bewitched and from those who were sold to the Devil. Often +the victims fell into ecstatic convulsion, and boasted, when they were +tortured nigh unto death, that they felt inexpressible joy at finding +themselves brought near to the Devil, who doubtless stood in their +minds for the great adversary of the court. Many made vain efforts to +utter a word when they were virtually throttled. A report says: “The +Devil sought to vex them so that, even if they wished to confess, they +should be unable to bring out a word. We saw with our own eyes that, +as soon as they had spoken one word of confession, the Devil sprang at +their throat, and that a hindrance mounted from their chest to their +chin, just as when a plug is put before the opening of a cask in order +to hinder the flow of the liquor.” This describes a common symptom of +hysteria which we call _globus hystericus_. + +The influence which hysterical subjects exercised upon the whole +metaphysics, or view of the universe (_Weltanschauung_) of those times, +was tremendous. While superstition and fanaticism may truly be called +the best fertilizers to yield a crop of hysteria--and they have vastly +contributed to its extension and large growth--at the same time, +hysteria, in its turn, with its astonishing symptoms, far beyond the +classificatory powers of those ages, has had the effect of enormously +feeding and propagating superstition. In short, the two phenomena, +hysteria and superstition, played into one another’s hands; each was +alternately cause and effect; and between them they called forth +that dismal period in which the human mind was loaded with fetters, +and postponed for centuries its free possession of its heritage. The +author who is capable of saying that before this our time “hysteria +only showed itself sporadically, and had no importance in the life of +the whole community,” is not acquainted with the history of insanity +and the biography of the human race. In order to pass judgment upon +the present times from a psychological point of view, the very first +requisite is an acquaintance with times gone by, and a tracing out of +the path which has brought our culture to its present height. + +Before passing on to the study of the present, let us first ask why and +how it was that diseases of the mind took on an epidemic character. +Most of those authors who have made hysteria the subject of deep +investigations agree in this: that _suggestibility_ (using this word +approximately in its psychological sense) is a particular mark of the +state of soul of the hysterical.[119] Every man is to a certain degree +susceptible of _suggestion_. Everyday life shows this. Merely seeing +somebody else laugh, gape, hawk, or cough, makes other people do so; +and so it is with other semi-voluntary acts. Hence it is that people +are accustomed to say that laughing and gaping are “contagious.” In +hysteria, _suggestibility_ is present in greater or less measure, +according to the intensity of the disease. The subjects usually possess +little or no force of will, but are receptive of outward influences. +This characteristic becomes particularly apparent during emotions, such +as anxiety, fear, terror, etc. An infinity of examples shows that grave +states of hysteria are brought on by passionate emotion. Frequently it +is a concatenation of such emotions that results at last in hysteria; +whence the extreme importance of education, and of the collective +impressions of childhood for persons of the sort considered, becomes +apparent. As long as children drew in mystical tendencies with their +mother’s milk, and were kept in fear and terror by the belief in the +apparition of the Devil and in witchcraft, it is self-evident that the +doors for the development of hysteria were opened, and _suggestibility_ +and emotivity appeared in full blossom. + +Unintermittent religious observances, imaginary converse with +supernatural beings, such as saints and angels, led first to +hallucinations and ultimately to morbid phenomena of hysteria. To look +upon an ecstatical state, or upon a case of hysterical cramps, was +sufficient to excite similar states in a circle of companions much +disposed to the same thing by anxiety and surprise. Physicians who +devote themselves specially to diseases of the nervous system and who +enjoy a large practice know only too well that, when their anterooms +are thronged, as often as one woman goes into a hysterical fit several +others among those who happen to be there are pretty sure to follow +the example. How much more strongly must the _suggestion_ act if the +individual who originates it is supposed not to be diseased, but, on +the contrary, to have driven some astute bargain with Satan or to be +deep in the lore of the Chaldeans, so that the attack is regarded as +an evidence of superiority! + +Severe diseases of the mind proper, such as mania and paranoia, have +undoubtedly also played their parts, and no unimportant ones, in the +production of epidemics. All the phenomena of those diseases which are +now speedily confined to asylums, continued in former ages before the +public eye, and fell like sparks upon the magazine of superstition and +mysticism in the people. Those who raved were supposed to be witches; +and weak-minded persons who imagined themselves to be animals, etc., +were taken for werewolves at least. As for those who were attacked by +religious delusions of greatness, they were rated as holy souls endowed +with the grace of God’s Spirit. The influence of these subjects upon +the mass of the hysterical, with their high-grade _suggestibility_, +must, of course, have been a quite fatal one. Conditions which in the +one were produced by insane ideas and imperative motions were called +forth in the mass of the others by the force of _suggestion_, and were +terribly spread. + +The influence of these phenomena--that is to say, of insanity, but +more particularly of endemic eruptions of hysteria, upon the whole +culture--is shown in the literature of that time. Ideas of sorcery, of +the apparition of the Devil, and of witchcraft prevailed not only among +the rude populace, the mass of the people, but also among scholars of +renown and consideration--men who had accomplished great things in +their generation. Bulky tomes were devoted to the discussion of matters +of witchcraft and possession. Pierre Delancre, a councillor of the +Parliament of Bordeaux, wrote three large volumes on the subject; and +his conclusion is, that to spare the life of a single person who is +even suspected of sorcery[120] is a crime. + +With the gradual awakening of science and the beginning--or, more +accurately speaking, the restoration--of the doctrine of mental +diseases, the fatal consequences of superstition became milder, and +the extension of hysterical epidemics was narrowed. To recognise that +possession does not imply dealings with the enemy, but is simply +a disease, was to break off the poisoned tip from the arrow of +suggestion, and thenceforward the morbid impulse to imitation of the +insane symptoms lost much of its strength and asserted itself less +frequently. + +No doubt hysterical epidemics based upon religion continue even to +this day. The last century was by no means poor in such phenomena. +They are to be met with still. The religious epidemics which broke out +in Sweden in the years 1841 and 1842, and which have been described +by the Swedish psychiatrist Sonden, are good examples.[121] To this +very day, among certain religious denominations--the Methodist Church +of the United States, for instance--phenomena can still be observed +bearing a close resemblance to the mediæval epidemics. I myself had +an opportunity of attending a Methodist camp-meeting, and was there +enabled to assure myself of the overwhelming force _suggestion_ may +exert upon a crowd of thousands of people. Men and women, children +and superannuated persons, behaved for all the world like mad. They +howled and shrieked until they were too exhausted to bring forth a +sound. Here and there one would leap up. He was “inspired,” and would +communicate to the crowd his divine inspirations, drawn in reality from +hallucination or auto-suggestion. I saw one young man climb a tree, +imagining that he saw Christ in it. + +The principal causes of the spread of epidemics of insanity and of the +so-called secular hysteria are, then, _suggestibility_, emotionalism, +the impulse to mimicry, and the tendency to mysticism. These important +symptoms form the well-ripened dung heap for the growth of whatever +mushroom crop of occult and supernatural ideas you will, whether from +the spawn of superstition and fanaticism or from that of a lore that +drolly mimics a true and living science. During the _Renaissance_ +of literature and art, which was followed by that of science, the +religious fanaticism of the Middle Ages gradually lost its energy. The +corresponding phenomena of our century may be called runners from that +dismal period. But secular hysteria has by this time gradually assumed +a different character. Belief in the devil and witches has faded +quite away. Nowadays phenomena that seem unaccountable are produced +in great variety by the hysteria which still subsists, and lead to +crazy doctrines and errors, but they are new ones. Spiritualism, +which flourished most in the middle part of the century, had such an +origin. All those surprising phenomena that in earlier times had been +referred to the agency of the devil and of witches were now treated as +evidences of spiritual presence, telepathy, etc. Hysteria and religious +superstition had formerly communicated each vitality to the other; now +hysteria and pseudo-science intensified and propagated one another. The +literature to which spiritualism has given rise is perfectly enormous, +and forms a pendant to the old books on witchcraft. Scientific men of +standing write in our times thick books to discuss the evidences of the +most incredible theories about spirits, about veracious dreams, about +prophecies, about telepathy, about clairvoyance, about premonitions, +etc. + +Such teachings could not fail to exert a decided influence upon the +_suggestible_ and mystically inclined mob of hysterics. The belief +in ghosts continually spread, spiritualistic societies were formed +everywhere. The social psychological situation was strongly analogous +to that of the Middle Ages in regard to witchcraft. The differences +were chiefly extrinsic, although it must be confessed that they were +not unimportant, for nobody was any longer burned at the stake or +stretched on the rack. + +The success of a spiritualistic sitting required that there should be +among the company one strongly stamped morbid case, such as a person +subject to cataleptic seizures or to hallucinations, or something of +the sort. This person, who would have been considered a witch in the +Middle Ages, was now termed a “medium,” a middle term or _tertium +quid_, through which the spirits of the dead could be brought into +communication with the living. The mysterious darkness in which the +sittings were held, the communion hymn that was softly intoned by the +company, the excitement and strain with which the manifestations were +expected, the medium’s voice of awed assurance--these things, together +with physiological conditions to which we need not refer, beclouded +the brain and heightened the already high _suggestibility_ of the +hysterical circle. In this way appearances of ghosts of their lost +ones were _suggested_ to great numbers of persons. To the visions were +joined auditory delusions. They heard the ghosts speak, and conversed +with them; and with actual conversation all remnants of doubt of their +living reality were swept away. + +The psychological conditions were thus essentially the same as in +the religious epidemics of the Middle Ages. There appearances of +infernal spirits and of witches were _suggested_; here the ghosts +of dead relatives were seen and heard. Hysteria, with its high +_suggestibility_, accompanied by external circumstances adapted to +excite it, acted as common cause in the two cases. + +Transmission of delusions and hallucinations, or, so to say, “psychical +contagion,” is, in the experience of the practising psychiatrist, +by no means a phenomenon of the extremest infrequency. In that form +of mental derangement which goes by the name of _folie à deux_ two +persons share the same hallucinations and deluded ideas. One of them +is usually chronically insane, the other a degenerate, weak-minded, or +hysterical person to whom deluded ideas and deceptions of sense are +suggested by the former. I have myself had opportunities of observing +a number of such cases. Among others, there was a man, chronically +insane, who had erected a completely systematic structure of delusions. +He was the deputy of God on earth. It was his duty to promulgate God’s +will and to better humanity. In consequence of his high mission, he had +to endure many enmities and snares. He was persecuted (so he fancied) +in every possible way. Attempts were even made (he thought) to put +him out of the way. Moreover, his ideas of grandeur and persecution +were nourished by corresponding deceptions of sense. Now, this patient +had a wife. This wife regarded her husband as the delegate of God, +believed every word he said, and was completely inoculated with his +delusion. He _suggested_ to her his hallucinations; so that she +confirmed every assertion he made. She was a weak-minded person, who, +under other outward circumstances, would most likely have exhibited no +peculiarities out of the ordinary. + +In company, and still more in large assemblies, the _suggestibility_ of +almost everybody is heightened. + +Thus, then, morbid symptoms are propagated in any sort of crowded +meeting, and since at spiritualistic reunions the above-mentioned +outward conditions are particularly favourable to _suggestion_, it +is not necessary that people should be downright weak-minded. It is +only requisite that there should be among them a goodly sprinkling of +_suggestible_ persons of somewhat hysterical disposition; and when +these are once attacked, the strength of _suggestion_ that is brought +to bear upon the remainder of the company will be multiplied. + +It has been fully proved, and is generally admitted by spiritualists +themselves, that from the beginning a great deal of trickery--partly +mischievous, partly mercenary or otherwise deliberate--was mingled with +the delusions. Besides, hysterical subjects are apt to be untruthful. +At the same time mere jugglery would not have gone far if it had had +nothing but cold understanding to work upon. Very often fraud was not +present, and still oftener was superfluous. The real cause of the +spiritualistic movement, broadly considered, was mental and nervous +derangement. + +Spiritualism has now, in the main, died out nearly as much as religious +superstition and fanaticism have done. It is at present almost entirely +in the hands of swindlers and their weak-minded victims. + +With our present knowledge of hysteria, its causes and symptoms, men +of science and all who are enlightened by its teachings are under a +positive obligation, which can not be shaken off, and must not be +shirked, to combat everything which tends to further superstition or +to nourish the inclination of the people toward mysticism. Our duty it +equally is to set our faces against those pernicious practices which +are calculated to favour and augment that fatal symptom of hysteria, +a heightened _suggestibility_. The very first of these practices is +that of hypnotism. The hypnotic state is brought about by _suggestion_ +alone. It greatly increases the suggestibility of the subject. A number +of the most eminent authors have become convinced that hypnotism +is always a morbid state closely allied to hysteria. Charcot has +asserted this most decidedly. His most eminent scholar, Gilles de la +Tourette,[122] says: “We believe that with Cathelineau we have shown +by irrefragable proofs that hysteria and hypnotism are two morbid +affections which are closely allied, and, in particular, that hypnosis +is only possible in persons who have a tendency toward hysteria, +although this disease may not have as yet otherwise manifested itself. +It is easily to be conceived, then, what an influence hypnotic +experiments must have upon the calling forth of hysterical phenomena.” +Jolly,[123] too, comes to the conclusion that “habitual hypnotics do +not differ essentially from hysterical subjects.” + +Although not all authors accept this conception of hypnotism, to +which, for my part, I give in my full adhesion, yet all do agree +that hypnotism in the hands of the laity, used as an amusement and a +curiosity, may have the most unwholesome consequences. I know one case +in my own experience in which such irresponsible fooling, kept up in +spite of emphatic warnings, was followed by severe hysterical attacks. +It is absolutely revolting that public exhibitions of professional +hypnotizers are allowed to exercise their baleful influence unchecked. +The subjects whom the hypnotizer selects from the audience are persons +of high _suggestibility_, inclined to hysteria. The persons present are +convinced of the real power of the hypnotizer, because the subjects +are people with whom they are acquainted, who perhaps are members of +their own family, so that all collusion and trickery are excluded. But +fathers and mothers ought to reflect that it is a morbid state which +is being induced in their daughters, that they are inoculated with +a dangerous poison whose consequences may be destructive. The young +ladies who are put into a cataleptic condition at the exhibition, who +are made to eat raw potatoes for apples, and the like, are led to show +off a mental weakness, and to be brought into a state of absolute +idiocy to excite the hilarity of the audience. These are the persons +who in spiritualistic _séances_ think they see ghosts of the departed, +and who some centuries ago would have been joining in a wild dance +in the street, or who would have committed actions leading to their +execution, as persons possessed of the devil. Such exhibitions ought to +be prohibited, as they are in France, for their pernicious influence is +beyond question. As for the employment of hypnotism as a therapeutic +agent, that is a question into which I do not here enter. + +The above study of the causes and mode of origination of the so-called +secular hysteria shows very clearly that this morbid phenomenon can +be brought about under the most diverse outward conditions, and that, +in fact, we meet with it in history in the most widely separate +fields. The psychological conditions are, however, everywhere the +same--suggestibility, excessive emotionalism, the impulse to mimicry, +and the inclination to mysticism. + +It is highly important to recognise public hysterias in good season, in +order to work against the pernicious influence of morbid suggestions. +It is therefore indubitably a service to the public to sound in time +the warning voice, and thus protect humanity against great harm. Such +a duty Nordau thinks that he fulfils when he tells us that we stand +“in the midst of a severe mental epidemic, a sort of black death of +degeneration and hysteria.” + +Whether diseases of the nerves, and particularly degeneration and +hysteria, considered as sporadic cases, are at present more frequently +to be observed than in earlier times can not be determined with +certainty. Pertinent statistics are wanting; and, indeed, all but a +small percentage of cases of hysteria and degeneration remain without +medical treatment, and consequently escape all statistics. Some general +remarks of Nordau--as, for example, that people nowadays grow gray +and bald earlier than they used to do, and that we lose our power of +optical accommodation earlier than our forefathers did--seem to be +assertions without one particle of proof. Now, without proof they can +have no weight, unless we are to allow our own opinions to be formed by +_suggestion_. + +The chief arguments for Nordau’s opinions are therefore drawn not from +the observation of individuals, but from the social phenomena of the +period, our mental civilization, in which he believes that he detects +the grave malady of universal degeneration and hysteria. Criticisms, +some judicious and some not so, of fashions, dress, furniture, and +the mode of life of modern society, bring him to the conclusion that +while “to the Philistine the current terms--caprice, eccentricity, +affectation of novelty, imitation--afford a sufficient explanation” of +the phenomena, yet to the physician, “especially to the specialist for +diseases of the nerves and the mind,” two definite states of disease +are to be diagnosed: to wit, degeneration and hysteria. I must confess +that I myself must, for that “specialist in diseases of the nerves +and of the mind,” Dr. Nordau, fall into the class of Philistines, +inasmuch as I am unable to perceive that a “thin moustache” or “wild +moustache,” that very short hair or very long hair, afford sufficient +grounds for a diagnosis of degeneration or of hysteria, or that the +_coiffure_ and dress of a modern lady, however eccentric and _outré_, +constitute a morbid symptom, indicating a black death of degeneration. +Nay, I must with shame confess that, far from finding fault with the +fashions, it had appeared to me that the present dress of ladies bore, +in many respects, the marks of sounder sense than the costumes of other +epochs. I recall, for example, the hoop skirts of 1850, or those of the +reign of Queen Anne, before “the age of degeneration and hysteria” had +set in; the side puffs of 1850 extending laterally six inches right +and left from the head, or the vast structures which were carried on +the heads at an earlier period. Another point may be recollected: In +former days--say in 1850, as a time perfectly remembered by many--the +iron rule of fashion was such that every kind of beauty was forced +to decorate itself according to one strict model, while ladies now +follow their own individual tastes and consult their own convenience +much more. Again, that barbaric custom of wounding the female person +in order to stick shiny trinkets into the apertures so effected is +becoming rapidly extinct. + +As for the habitations of modern society, or, in Nordau’s phrase, the +“stage properties and lumber-rooms, rag-shops and museums,” where a +“friar’s cowl” or the “red mantle of Fra Diavolo” wraps the master of +the house “like a Jackpudding”--these things, if such things there +be, are shocking enough, I readily grant, to the feelings of an +æsthetician. But, after all, I am unable to detect in them anything +worse than coarse taste and coarse ostentation, qualities which surely +have never ceased to mark the majority of the human race. These +things are heirlooms from our monkey ancestors, not marks of recent +degeneration. When Dr. Nordau declares that the “specialist physician +for diseases of the nerves and of the mind” recognises degeneracy +and hysteria “at first glance” in the passions and tastes of the +“fashionable world,” I do not believe that he speaks for any great +proportion of the profession. + +Whether or not there is such a thing as “correct” taste or “incorrect” +taste is a question that has been endlessly disputed in spite of the +sensible proverb, “De gustibus non est disputandum.” If, however, a +certain kind of taste is to be regarded as a symptom of insanity, +it will plainly be necessary to agree first upon some standard of +correct taste. Now, who shall be the arbiter in that matter? Shall it +be the specialist for nervous diseases? If so, what a revolution will +be imperative in our medical schools! Instead of students devoting +their time to anatomy and pathology, they must be busy forming their +tastes, attending lectures on ladies’ dress, and, in short, must give +themselves over to things of that kind. Is it not to be feared lest +after that sort of culture dealings with the insane should offend their +supersensitive organizations? Yet however exclusive their devotion +to aesthetics, differences of artistic opinion would still subsist +among the “specialists in nervous diseases.” Among them might still +be found those who, instead of seeing a “plague of degeneration” in +modern dress, would think it a happy release from the ideas of those +good old times when, in the absence of secular hysteria, men wore +embroidered coats and had their hands half covered with lace, and when +a long-queued bagwig covered their heads. + +In short, Nordau does not give a single plausible reason for treating +modern customs and fashions as symptoms of advanced degeneracy and +hysteria. Ever since women became women they have taken pleasure in the +adornment of their persons. That feminine passion has existed at all +times. Nordau does not tell us why, in modern women, it is to be taken +as a sign of an epidemic disease peculiar to our age. The simple truth +is, that he does not like the present fashions; and that is enough to +make him accuse the rest of the civilized population of the globe of +being degenerate and hysterical. + +One of the most important symptoms of universal degeneration is, +according to Nordau, incapacity for adaptation, powerlessness to +accommodate one’s self to the existing order of things. Here, as +elsewhere, he goes too far, setting down anarchists and revolutionists +as degenerates, without further examination. He speaks of a “silly need +of being refractory” on the part of the degenerate, a “union against +taking off one’s hat to people.” In this regard Nordau must consider +his own doctrine as the most striking of all the signs of the times, in +supporting its own contention, for he himself not only protests against +pointed beards, partings of the hair, and cuts of the clothes, but +declares the whole population, with the possible exception of those +who share his tastes, to be diseased in mind. + +That is what driving the business of psychiatry in Nordau’s wholesale +style comes to. Whoever judges of a state of mind merely by comparison +with his own sentiments and feelings, and treats every opinion which +departs from his own as morbid, simply makes a layman’s diagnosis; and +such, in plain truth, is the psychiatric dilettantism of Nordau’s whole +book. No doubt Nordau finds in his “mentally decayed contemporaries” +all the symptoms of degeneration which Morel, Magnan, and others have +described. But his way of employing the conceptions of psychiatry marks +his complete dilettantism. Every collector who, with a collector’s +passion, buys old bric-a-brac suffers, according to Nordau, from +_oniomania_, or the mania for purchasing. Whoever occupies himself more +with any matter than Dr. Nordau deems fitting has imperative ideas. +Whoever writes what Dr. Nordau does not approve is a graphomaniac. +Whoever composes a drama of love suffers from erotomania. Whoever opens +the discussion of a problem concerning which Dr. Nordau has formed his +opinion suffers from the mania for disputation or the mania for doubt. +In this way it is easy in any given man to detect any given symptom of +insanity. + +The reader of Nordau is inclined to regard him as a humourist rather +than as a strictly scientific man. But comical and, in part, diverting +as his psychiatric performances are, even to the professional man, +yet, after all, the matter has its serious side, especially since his +book is addressed to the laity, among whom such dilettantism may have +quite fatal consequences. We shall therefore be unable to leave it +unnoticed, however little pleasure there may be in the discussion of +such unprofessional opinions. + +“The severe mental epidemic,” “the black death of degeneration and +hysteria,” finds its principal embodiment, according to Nordau’s +statement, in the art, poetry, and philosophy of the present time. +It may here be objected that artists and poets form only a minute +percentage of the community, and that it is impossible from them, and +nothing more, to conclude anything in regard to the whole population, +and to base on this such a smashing diagnosis. To that Nordau replies +that the degeneration of our time shows itself in art and literature, +and that the great secular hysteria is marked in the influence which +a degenerate art can exercise upon the public. Modern art would +correspond to the witch superstition of the Middle Ages which exercised +its baleful influence upon the masses. It is admitted that the secular +hysteria of the Middle Ages forms but a feeble pendant to our modern +disease, for Nordau expressly assures us that in former times hysteria +had no importance for the general life of society, while it now crushes +down the whole human race. As for that art and literature which are, +in Nordau’s estimation, the embodiment of degeneracy, I shall consider +them in the next chapter. We here concern ourselves only with their +effect upon the masses--that is, with secular hysteria. Nordau takes +as a sample a number of eminent poets and _littérateurs_, and, having +reached the conviction that every one of them is a degenerate, he +hangs some sort of _-ism_ upon each and thinks that in this way he has +produced a new form of disease, in comparison wherewith the demonomany +and lycanthropy of the Dark Ages were innocent phenomena. For instance, +Nordau specifies an Ibsenism, a Tolstoiism, and various other such +_-isms_. + +It would, at any rate, be exceedingly interesting if Dr. Nordau could +furnish us with accurate analyses of these _-ism_ diseases, and tell +us in what they consist. But of this there is not one word. He just +mentions the authors, labels each with his cheaply manufactured _-ism_, +and thus the plague of the great secular hysteria receives its names. +To judge by what Nordau tells us, Ibsenism and Tolstoiism are symptoms +of a disease which has attacked the population and which manifests +itself in states of high emotion. Surely, then, since there is supposed +to be a terrible and pestlike malady whose symptoms are Ibsenism, +etc., these phenomena must greatly surpass all previous hysterias of +the masses. But in point of fact there is not the slightest trace of +anything of the sort. Like every new phenomenon, the writers named +have excited public interest in a certain measure; but there never +has been observed any morbid state or affection of the masses due to +the influence of any of those writers. If by Ibsenism, Tolstoiism, +etc., Nordau means morbid conceptions of the world, of art, of social +relations, etc., it only amounts to this: that those authors’ ways of +thinking do not accord with his own. In the place of objective proof of +disease Dr. Nordau leaves a blank. + +Anybody acquainted with modern society must agree that the influence of +those poets and writers to whose names Nordau attaches the termination +_-ism_ is a pretty slight one. How many people have ever heard of Ibsen +and Tolstoi? For most persons art is but a pastime. They only go to the +theatre for recreation and distraction. Well-to-do people, especially +in the great cities, may have seen a play by Ibsen. The worthy matron +pronounces that Nora did wrong in running away from her husband and +children. But they trouble their heads very little with any purpose the +writer may have had. That is all the Ibsenism that is prevalent. + +As for Tolstoi’s philosophical view’s, they are neither so well known +nor so influential that one can speak even of a school of Tolstoiism. +The unhappy and insane Nietzsche does not represent the way of thinking +of the public, and never attained such importance that we could +conclude from his success that his doctrines represented the general +state of mind. + +For an echo of the alleged degenerate art we shall therefore seek +in vain in the mass of mankind; and as for the thence inferred +“putrefaction” of our contemporaries and the “black death of degeneracy +and hysteria,” they are mere phantoms of the pessimistic fancy of Dr. +Nordau and his learned colleagues. + +Had Nordau in his sharp critique of existing conditions in the fields +of society, literature, and art made no pretension to any other +standpoint than that of the æsthetician and art critic, his work, +in spite of its many eccentricities and falsities, would undeniably +not have been without service, for he lays the scourge that is their +due upon many a folly and absurdity of our time. But when he wraps +himself in the solemn garb of science and, assuming the position of a +psychiatrist, hurls the ban of degeneracy and hysteria upon everything +that does not meet his approval, he can only be called a psychiatric +_dilettante_. + +It may be granted that a sort of secular hysteria really does exist. +No doubt many erroneous doctrines of art and science are propagated +by the _suggestibility_ and emotionalism of the hysterical masses, +and many evils are partly due to these phenomena. At the same time, +it is certain that, thanks to the progress of science, the influence +of mental disorders upon the general culture is decidedly less at +present than in former periods of history, and that to-day hysterias +of the masses, such as broke out in the Middle Ages, are relatively +infrequent. This, however, does not imply that the number of isolated +cases of derangement is less than it formerly was. + + + + + ART AND INSANITY. + + +A psychological judgment of a man demands a double estimation of his +mental action. We have to consider that action, in the first place, +as strictly personal, and in the second place as a link in the great +chain of growing humanity. Every epoch has its errors and falsities, +and every man is subject to the spirit of his times, from which he is +powerless to free himself. Even those mental heroes who outstripped +their age in hardy flight and turned culture into new paths clung in +part to the erroneous views of their contemporaries, and, as Goethe +says, were connected with their century by their defects. We need never +consider the errors and perversities of the time as a morbid symptom, +for then all mankind would always have been mad. What one period of +history has held to be high and holy another has derided and scorned; +and absolute, irrefragable truth no age has been able to bring forth. +The error of the time must not, therefore, be confounded with that +phenomenon which was described in the last chapter under the name of +secular hysteria. In this latter we have a typical image of disease +observable at all times and particularly characterized by definite +sensational ideas. It makes no difference what the matter of the ideas +is; it is rather the whole behaviour--the collective phenomenon of the +persons concerned--by which they are marked as sick. The same persons +who, in the Middle Ages, danced through the streets as bewitched, might +perhaps, in other eras, have become fanatic revolutionists; or they +might hold intercourse with spirits of the departed in spiritualistic +circles, but they would always exhibit the same typical image of +hysteria. On the other hand, the error of the time affects all alike, +the strong-minded as much as the weak-minded. Everybody in the Middle +Ages believed in witches and devils, so they can not be called insane +for that. They simply partook of the universal error of their age. If +Luther had been born in the nineteenth century he probably would not +have believed in a personal devil at all. + +It would therefore be absurd to judge of mental sanity by comparing the +subject’s opinions with our own. Our only fixed standard is the body of +society. If a scientifically educated man of our day were to pay divine +honour to a bull, and ascribe to it almighty power, there would be a +plain pathological state. But in early Egypt such a belief would accord +with the universal notion of the universe, and in a subject of Pharaoh +would bespeak only the error of his time and no derangement of mind. A +few centuries ago astrology was practised by even the most eminent men. +How firmly Wallenstein believed in such things is well known. So great +a man as Kepler wrote as follows: “According to the configurations of +the rays of the stars at the birth of a man, life flows to the new-born +in this or that form. If the configuration is harmonic, a fine form of +heart arises, and this builds itself a beautiful habitation. At the +same time the strong are born of the strong, the good of the good. +Single cases stand under the might of God and under his permission +in the strength of the tutelary spirit. If the heart is prepared +for evil, one must endeavour to improve it. Harmony is completeness +of relations. Only the Infinite knows the harmony of the spheres in +their full extent; the earth-ball has but a feeble after-feeling. This +after-feeling animates the earth-soul and makes the man cleverer for +thinking and for every deed.” + +Just as we look back upon the errors of the past and consider them as +a weakness of humanity gradually overcome, so will future generations +perhaps look back upon us. What we to-day hold for irrefragable truth, +coming generations may indicate as the mightiest errors. The world has +always erred, and so long as there are men there will be errors. + + Es irrt der Mensch, so lang er strebt. + + (As long as man strives he errs.) + +We grow up in the errors of the time, we have them before us from +childhood, and the average man takes them without consideration as +true. Religion, art, morals, manners--all human culture--have their +inheritance of weakness and error handed down from generation to +generation and from century to century. + + Es erben sich Gesetz und Rechte + Wie eine ew’ge Krankheit fort. + + (Law and rights are inherited like a disease that never dies out.) + +One of the chief characteristics of those powerful natures whom the +world has to thank for its progress and its knowledge of new facts +is, therefore, an absolute doubt of the truth of everything. “He who +does not doubt,” says Hagen,[124] “whether what is known concerning +any matter may not be false, has no capacity for discovery; and for +the finding out of new ways and laws, not only is he unfitted who has +little understanding, but so is he, too, who has merely understanding, +who is unable to conceive how it is possible to think otherwise about +things concerning which the world has long since made up its mind.” +Hagen here quotes an admirable remark of Lichtenberg: “The common man +always conforms to the reigning opinion and reigning fashion. He holds +the state in which things now are to be the only one possible, and +assumes an altogether passive attitude. It does not occur to him that +everything, from the form of the furniture to the finest hypothesis, +has been resolved upon in the great council of men of which he is a +member. The great genius, on the other hand, always asks, Might not +this be untrue?” + +While, therefore, we should certainly be guilty of a great error if, +judging of an individual, we were to lay the errors of the time to his +account, yet we should proceed in a thoroughly amateurish way if we +were to regard as deranged those great thinkers who doubt the truth +and the value of existing relations, or who in their sentiments and +views depart from common sense. The great crowd has a way of calling +everything “crazy” which it does not understand or which departs from +its ancient habits, however irrational those ways and habits may be. +But whoever is acquainted with the psychical development of humanity +will see in this only a matter of course--phenomena that are necessary +and that continually occur. + +To judge an individual, then, it is not so important to consider _what_ +he thinks and does as _how_ he thinks it, or what his motives for doing +it may be. “Duo cum faciunt idem non est idem.” That which in one man +may be the symptom of mental derangement is perhaps in another brought +on by a perfectly healthy and rational mental action. The psychiatrist +must therefore not halt at the outward phenomenon, but will have to +consider the casual connection of the psychical condition, and must +endeavour to find the secret springs of the acts or words in question. + +National psychology has to proceed in a similar way in judging of +single phenomena. The spirit of the time, the soul of the people, which +is expressed in the most diverse departments--politics, philosophy, +art, literature--can only be appreciated and correctly understood when +it is considered in its causal connections as a link in the great chain +of historical development. Torn from its connections, no epoch of art +or literature can be comprehended, and such fragmentary data will give +rise to mistakes, while the creations of art as parts of a great +whole, as links of a great chain, shed great light upon the thought and +feeling of their time. An exact knowledge of the way in which single +phenomena have arisen, an ascertainment of the motives of definite +artistic expressions, are absolutely requisite for the correct judgment +of art as a symptom of the contemporary soul of the people, as a +partial manifestation of the spirit of the times. Whoever considers our +modern art relations as things in themselves and leaves unnoticed their +connection with times past and their psychological origin, will surely +fail if he wishes to appreciate the same as material for a judgment +upon the collective spirit of the times. + +If one walks through a modern exhibition of paintings and observes +there the viewers of pictures, how they sometimes stand shaking their +heads before this picture or that without being able to make out what +it was at all that the artist was trying to paint; if he considers +the peculiar collections of colours, the glaring contrasts, the vague +outlines, the peculiar ground tone, he will be led to say to himself +that our time has introduced a new method of pictorial representation, +and both the art critic and the psychologist must seek the _raison +d’être_ of the new art. + +Nordau says: “All these new tendencies, realism or naturalism, +‘decadentism,’ neomysticism, and their sub-varieties, are +manifestations of degeneration and hysteria, and identical with +the mental stigmata which the observations of clinicists have +unquestionably established as belonging to these.”[125] Certain +peculiarities in painting are explained by Nordau as due to defects +of vision of the painter. “The curious style of certain recent +painters--‘impressionists,’ ‘stipplers,’ or ‘mosaists,’ ‘papilloteurs,’ +or ‘quiverers,’ ‘roaring’ colourists, dyers in gray and faded +tints--becomes at once intelligible to us if we keep in view the +researches of the Charcot school into the visual derangements in +degeneration and hysteria.”[125] Vagueness of outline is produced, +Nordau says, by nystagmus, or trembling of the eyeball. Insensibility +of patches of the retina occurs among degenerates. The result must be, +he says, that the subjects do not see distinctly rounded images. If +such a person paints what he sees he will be inclined to put spots, +larger or smaller, side by side, the spots not being united together, +or only imperfectly. Some painters, according to Nordau, are capable of +only certain colour-sensations and perceptions, and sometimes see but +a single hue. This affords his explanation of peculiar colourists, the +preference for particular colours, and the monotone frequent in modern +art. Dun-coloured painting is a consequence of complete absence of the +sensation of colour, or _achromatopsia_. + +Some colours have, according to Nordau, peculiar effects upon the +nervous system. Thus red has a “force-producing” or “dynamogenous” +property; and thus, says Nordau, it is easy to understand “that +hysterical painters revel in red, and that hysterical beholders take +special pleasure in pictures operating dynamogenously and producing +feelings of pleasure.” Other colours, especially violet, have an +inhibiting and debilitating effect upon the nervous system. “The sight +of this colour has a depressing effect, and the unpleasant feeling +awakened by it induces dejection in a sorrowfully disposed mind. This +suggests that painters suffering from hysteria and neurasthenia will +be inclined to cover their pictures uniformly with the colour most in +accordance with their condition of lassitude and exhaustion. When the +entire surface of walls in _salons_ and art exhibitions of the day +appears veiled in uniform half mourning, this predilection for violet +is simply an expression of the nervous debility of the painter.” + +These remarks of Mr. Nordau may seem to many quite clever. It must +be confessed that the audacity and self-importance with which he +enunciates the most incredible propositions, as if he were giving +information of irrefragable truth, is startling, at least. Nor does he +on any single occasion make the least attempt to bring any evidence +to support his arbitrary assertions, or to prove them by objective +observations. All that Mr. Nordau tells us of impairment of vision +of painters, of the defects of their retinas, of their nystagmus, +etc., is the product of his fancy, of his imagination. Why did he not +actually investigate a number of painters and convince himself how far +his imaginations corresponded with facts before he put them before the +world as new discoveries? Mr. Nordau has nothing to utter but unfounded +assertions. Not only is proof of them entirely wanting, but their +falsity is in every instance capable of ready demonstration. Whoever +has had the opportunity of coming in contact with painters knows that +they are not colour-blind and have no trembling of the eyeball, even if +they belong to new schools of art. With the same logic with which Mr. +Nordau, from the colouring of modern painters, diagnoses a “weakness +of the nerves,” he might, in the great painters of the Renaissance, +who gave expression in their pictures to the religious ideas of the +time, find a general religious insanity. It can hardly be necessary +to examine more closely such superficialities, which ought to make no +pretension to a scientific character. + +Before I undertake the psychological analysis of the phenomena of the +world of art of to-day let me be permitted, for the sake of avoiding +misunderstandings, to define certain philosophical concepts which +have been transported into the language of art criticism. I mean the +variously applied designations, Realism, Naturalism, Idealism, and +Romanticism. + +By Realism I mean the aim to reproduce everything just as it is +perceived by the eye in colour, form, and light, without adding or +subtracting anything for the sake of beauty. Its contrary is Idealism, +which takes for its task to weed from every fact its most beautiful +aspect, and to suppress the unbeautiful by silence and by cloaking +it, so that beauty may shine forth in all its lustre. Thus these two +terms refer exclusively to the outward form of art, to its mode of +presentation. A centaur playing with a nymph, or any other subject, +can be painted realistically just as well as it can be painted +idealistically. By Naturalism I mean an artistic aim which takes for +its subjects such things as the world of observation (_Natur_) affords, +and renders only actual facts, actual creatures. Romanticism, on the +other hand, gives free rein to fancy, enriches the world with angels +and devils, and draws its subjects from religious or mythological +sources. + +These different elements have from of old, and at all periods, played a +great rôle in the history of art. They mostly depended on the spirit of +the times. They answered to the feeling and thought of the people, and +manifested themselves at the same period in different branches of art +in the same way. According to the above definitions, ancient Greek art +was prevailingly romantic. The character of this ideal, myth-forming +people expressed itself distinctly in its art. Gods and heroes were the +subjects of the masterpieces of Greek statuary; gods and heroes were +sung by the poets who inspired the people through the theatre. This +Romanticism was coupled with the Idealism proper to the Greeks. The +beautiful alone seemed to them worthy of being represented. Symmetry +of limb and a bold, courageous eye were to them as indispensable +in sculpture as euphony and rhythm were in the drama. In the rough +presentation of the fights of the Lapithæ and Centaurs, of gods and +giants, they always knew how to vindicate the rights of the beautiful. +By pictorial grouping, by rich drapery of the vestments, by the beauty +of the forms, the agreeable and conciliating were kept constantly +before the sight. + +Nevertheless, a certain Realism and Naturalism are discernible even +in Greek art. Among the numerous portrait statues dug up at Olympia +we find not seldom realistical busts whose faces had been abraded or +bruised in boxing. The cherries of Zeuxis, at which the birds picked, +are an example of realistic Naturalism. This aim in art was yet more +active with the Romans, without, however, rising to be the prevalent +tendency. + +After Art had gone to sleep in the decadence of Greeks and Romans, +it was reawakened in an age when a new idea and a new metaphysics, +or conception of the universe, filled the minds of the peoples. +Christianity, after a struggle of centuries, had conquered the world, +and it offered a new romantic world to art. Hence arose that art of +the Christian-romantic ages which prevailed until recently. Among +single artists a certain inclination toward Naturalism showed itself +during the whole period; but it could not endure in opposition to +the all-ruling Romanticism which provided its subjects partly from +Christianity and partly from antiquity. It was not until the nineteenth +century that an open warfare broke out between Romanticism and +Naturalism, while Realism at the same time sought to displace Idealism. +What value Realism and Naturalism may have in comparison to Idealism +and Romanticism let professed art critics decide. Our part is only to +examine the phenomena from a psychological standpoint and to discover +the motives which produced those phenomena. + +In the course of time, as in all new movements, parties and schools +were formed which waged the fiercest warfare, every man holding his +school and his method to be the only right one. It is easily understood +that in a matter of this kind, in the effort to make one’s own point +of view as important as possible, a contestant will shoot far over the +mark he had originally set before himself. So it happened that the +realists, who in the beginning only opposed idealism in so far as to +say that the task of art is to represent Nature in its truth, without +concealment and without prevarication, were spurred on by opposition to +mark their effort in their work much more strongly than was needful, +so that they not only presented the ugly and disgusting, because they +would not deny the existence of those elements, but went so far as to +seek it out, and at last quite forgot the beautiful and overlooked it +in their attention to the ugly. + +It is the same with the Naturalists in their attitude toward +Romanticism. Their zeal to represent real life just as it is went +beyond all measure. The stronger the opposition to the new movement, +the more zealously did they try to bring forward the ugly and common, +while entirely overlooking the good. In this way genuine Realism and +Naturalism were corrupted, and the picture often became little better +than a burlesque. + +The inclination, in the pursuit of a new idea, to press it far beyond +what was originally intended is a phenomenon grounded in the normal +human character, and found not merely in art, but in every department +of human production. + +Carl Gussow was the founder of the latest Realism in German painting. +His endeavour was to represent Nature, unadorned, in its truth, without +shrinking at any blemish whatever. His peculiar colouring, the new +manner of his technique, his tendency to give special prominence to +ugliness, raised at the first appearance of his pictures in Berlin a +decided and general disapproval. But voices of wrath soon became weaker +and weaker, adherents and admirers began to appear, imitators arose, +and a new school was founded. + +Somewhat earlier, but in exactly the same way, a yet more extreme +Realism and Naturalism had been started in France. Manet was the +founder of a new school in which we see a radically new artistic aim. +While hitherto painters had hastily sketched in the open air what they +observed, and afterward in their studios had repainted it, drawing +largely from fancy in the process, and indifferent to the difference of +light, Manet carried on his painting _en plein air_. The image, just as +it presented itself to the sight, and at that very moment, must be put +upon the canvas. Of course, these “impressionists” had voluntarily to +renounce all finer technique. They clutched at the coarsest methods, in +order that they might quickly, and without sophistication, reproduce +the impression seen. The soft transition of colours which the old +masters thought they perceived in Nature did not exist for Manet. For +him every object bore its own abrupt colour. In a landscape illuminated +by a dazzling sun, the green of the fields, the blue of the sky, the +red of the roof tiles, stood unmitigated and abruptly adjacent. + +This sort of Realism, combined with a corresponding Naturalism, +called forth a veritable hurricane of censure. Again and again were +the canvases of Manet rejected by the _Salon_, so that he had to +hold an exhibition of his own. Nevertheless, a group of young men +collected about him, and it augmented as time rolled on; so that at +last he became a factor in the history of art. The endeavour to bring +unfalsified Nature upon the canvas led to special studies of light. +Previously the pictures produced in the artist’s studio had a certain +conventional illumination. Now there was an effort to reproduce with +the brush the colours as they were presented to the artist’s sight +under bright sunshine, in the dusk, in bad weather, by artificial +light, etc. Thus arose the dazzling colours which represent the +effects of direct sunlight. The violet landscapes show the attempt +to reproduce the illumination of the dusk; the “wan painting,” as +Nordau calls it, is intended to represent the mist-filled landscape of +the great heats of summer. It is not our part to decide how far the +painters who have pursued this aim have been justified by success. +The only task of psychology is to ascertain the psychical processes +which were the reason of the production of the picture. To criticise +it does not belong to psychological or to psychiatrical science. The +psychiatrist as such is a layman in the department of art, and would +be guilty of transgressing the limits of his competence were he to +undertake to give a judgment of a work of art, especially to draw from +it psychiatric conclusions. + +As for the general end of art, we have seen, in considering the +psychology of genius, that fixed rules for it do not exist. The kind of +art considered needs neither a creative fancy nor a refined feeling in +order to express the peculiar moods of the painter in artistic form, +for painters who attempt that are rare. They wend their solitary way, +without following the army of any school. + +Nordau sees in the “formation of close groups or schools” a symptom of +degeneration and hysteria.[126] He says: “Healthy artists or authors +in possession of minds in a condition of well-regulated equilibrium +will never think of grouping themselves into an association.... True +talent is always personal. In its creations it reproduces itself, its +own views and feelings, and not the articles of faith learned from any +æsthetic apostle.” This assertion is not true. Nordau confounds genius +and talent; and this shows how important it is to be clear in such +expressions. Simple talent by no means possesses the properties stated +by Nordau. + +Jean Paul Richter[127] drastically styles the man of talent “the +gaily imitating ape of genius.” Men of talent to whom Nature has +denied creative power have from of old formed groups and schools. Even +Schiller became the founder of a school, although Goethe said his +scholars could learn no more than his language. In the formation of +schools nobody ever before saw a morbid symptom. But does Mr. Nordau +see what he is doing when he classes as degenerate and hysterical +all painters who possess only talent and are wanting in the creative +power of genius? His great saint, Lombroso, to whom he has consecrated +himself, says that “if in the nature of a genius signs of an abnormal +disposition are wanting, there must be some deceptive circumstance.” +Yet Nordau holds those artists to be degenerate who have only talent +and not genius. According to this, we must come to the conclusion that +if a man has genius he is insane, and if he has only talent he is +degenerate. Here the great doctrine blossoms out into its essential +absurdity. But as for groups and schools, in what department are they +worse nuisances than in science, and in particular in those branches to +whose advocates Mr. Nordau appeals by preference? + +In realistic and naturalistic movements some great painters, I admit, +were concerned; and these embodied their own intuitions and sentiments +in their art. But they are scattered sparsely, rising like rocks here +and there out of the dead level of the ocean. + +Böcklin was a painter whose pictures contain the sentiments and moods +of an artist. He tried by colouring and by the peculiarity of his +colour tones to lend to his pictures a mood which should affect the +spectator like the tones of music, like the harmonies of an organ. In +this idealistic garment of painting he wrapped, as a rule, a romantic +subject. His figures are centaurs, nymphs, satyrs, bacchantes, +mermaids, etc. He does not trouble himself much about the correctness +of his drawing, so that the grossest errors in that respect are +common enough with him. All he aimed at was to embody certain moods +in painting, and this he fully succeeded in doing in his Isle of the +Dead, his Elysian Fields (Die Gefilde der Seeligen), his Leviathan +(Meerungeheuer), and his Prometheus Bound. Böcklin is justly called +a poet in painting. He knew how to speak in colour tones and how to +awaken the most diverse kinds of moods. In spite of all enmities, he +soon found adherents and imitators, who have had no slight influence on +the subsequent development of art. + +Let these brief sketches suffice to describe the mode of psychological +origination of modern phenomena in this department. What we have here +seen are but repetitions of facts often to be observed in history. New +ideas, especially when they emerge suddenly and without preparation, +and, above all, if they contain great departures from ancient customs, +have always a rough fight to make. They have generally excited a storm +of abuse and an apparently invincible opposition. It may be said that +just those ideas which later appeared to have opened the paths of +advance the most met at first the most stubborn resistance. It is in +human nature to hold fast to the ancient inheritances and to turn away +from them unreadily. Hence we must deduce the proposition that all +novelties ought to be met in as fair a spirit as possible, and that we +must always reflect that we are apt to have an unconscious prejudice +against new ideas which depart from our habits. + +But there is another class of men who, on the contrary, think +everything new to be sublime and beautiful. Since they really +understand neither the new nor the old, they cherish the vague +feeling that the more strange and unintelligible a proposition is, +the more judicious and “profound” it must be. They speak in raptures +and ecstasy of the new art, and think it extremely clever to throw +out as many technical terms as they may have picked up without +precisely understanding them. Nordau terms these “persons of superior +intelligence who look down with pity upon the Philistine” who can not +rise to their genius for understanding art, as all hysterical. I can +not share this conception. It seems to me rather a characteristic due +to social conditions and to imperfect education. The ostentation and +vanity which so often show themselves in externals, such as furniture, +etc., are still more manifest in men’s acting and thinking. Many +parents educate their children, not for the sake of making of them +well-prepared and serviceable men, but for the sake of being able to +make a show with them. Not the happiness of their children, but their +own vanity, is, unfortunately, but too often the leading motive. +Children are taught music, not to form their heart in the beauty of +art and to ennoble their sense, but from vanity, to bring them forward +as trained monkeys. This vanity, this passion to appear more than they +are, is inculcated into many children of so-called good society from +their childhood up. They have to dazzle by their many-sided capacity, +by their understanding of art and learning. Evidently, it is for the +most part hollow, and if the thin covering of superficiality is raised, +nothing but a desert void is found. But they show well, and that is the +main point. In society, it of course belongs to good tone to chat about +philosophy, literature, and art, whether one knows anything or not. +Indeed, the more strange and unintelligible anything is, the more they +feel obliged to surround themselves with an appearance of intelligence. +If the question is about painting, they prate about the powerful +“mood”; in music the “working up of the counterpoint” impresses them, +without their having the slightest understanding of such things. + +I should never think of declaring anybody diseased on account of such +traits of character as these, nor should I excuse his silliness in +that way. No, it is not hysteria, but simply bad education that is in +question. Educate your children to candour and integrity, impress upon +them that truth is the most indispensable of all virtues, that there is +nothing more contemptible than the wish to appear to be more than one +really is, and thus clear the world of such fools! + +The sort of men whom I have here described are in their inculcated +superficiality of course aware of no inclination to take up a serious +calling. They would like to be imposing and to make themselves spoken +of; that is their highest ambition, and often the highest ambition +of their pretentious parents for them. Some feel themselves called +upon to become actors; others, musicians; others, painters; others, +to delight the world with their literary performances. No serious +study is contemplated, of course. With a certain enthusiasm they range +themselves with any new aim in art. They do not comprehend the spirit +of it, but they mimic the externals of the masters. + + How he hawks and how he spits, + To spy that out they’ve used their wits! + +When they have daubed a canvas violet or dark blue they think that they +have created a mood. If they can handle a brush like a broomstick and +smear about with it so that one can not tell whether the picture is +upside down or right side up, they call themselves, with pride, modern +realists and naturalists. + +Undoubtedly there are a number of hysterical and degenerate subjects +among this class of people. But, in order to establish this, it is +necessary thoroughly to investigate every single case, since this +trait of character alone does not constitute disease. It would also be +extremely fallacious to reason from this sort of men to the population +in general. They are, at all events, exceptional individuals. Moreover, +such people have existed at all periods of history. We have seen that +Kant painted them in 1788 as a well-known category of society, calling +them the “monkeys of genius.” And in no age can the existence of such +persons escape the sharp observer. + +The phenomena whose acquaintance we have made in the department of +painting have their analogues in modern literature. Here, too, the +Romanticism and Idealism of an earlier period of art are, in accordance +with our scientific metaphysics, displaced by Naturalism and Realism. +Thus the historical drama, whose subjects poets used to take from +prehistorical times and whose characters they altered and idealized +at will, as well as the romantic drama, in which the fantastical and +supernatural came to expression, belong to times gone by. The modern +poet draws his subjects not from early ages, but from the present. He +does not create his characters, but seeks to reproduce what he has +himself observed. He does not conceal any defect or weakness of his +stage heroes, but deals out equal justice to the good and the bad, the +beautiful and the ugly. The language of which he avails himself is not +poetical, sonorous, or metaphorical. His heroes spout no iambics, but +speak, for all the world, like all of us. In short, we are living in +the Bessemer-metal age of literature, and poetry sounds ridiculous to +us. + +This realistic and naturalistic impulse in literature, which for its +outward form uses the novel as well as the drama, first found vent in +France. It has very often shot far beyond its mark, just as it has +done in painting. Anxiety not to conceal ugliness in a weak preference +for beauty, and to tell the truth that evil as well as good exists, +has egged on writers to hunting up whatsoever things were hideous and +whatsoever things were revolting, and has made them lose sight of the +beauty and the good that really do exist. + +Other motives, however, may contribute to this effect. A number +of writers prefer to paint whatever is unlovely, and especially +immoralities, not in the above-described and half-involuntary way, +but for the sake of the moral. They do not look upon their art as +descriptive merely, but as partly rhetorical. That is to say, they do +not paint life truthfully without having an ulterior design. They do so +because the truth must awaken the moral sense of the people and their +aspirations for a better life. While the idealist, in the pursuit of +the same object, paints man in a lofty and scarce realized perfection, +the realist points out the shortcomings and feebleness of what actually +exists. He paints vice, not with the false glamour which an inclination +for it would shed upon it, but in the true hideousness of its details, +so that the contemplation of it may excite horror. + +It is not my task to pass judgment upon the value and justification +of the different aims of art. I only analyze them psychologically. I +therefore pass at once to another class of writers, who have the same +preference for painting immoralities from a third motive. + +These are those same uneducated and unintelligent ignoramuses whom +we mentioned above; for literature, too, is reduced to hack work in +their hands. Many persons whose capacities were sufficient to make +them good artisans, who might have been taught, perhaps, to make a +really good pair of shoes, or otherwise to fulfil a useful function in +the world, stick to the pen, because a bad writer is more respectable +than a good mechanic. They write, not because they have any calling +for literature, but because they know no other trade. These factotums +of the great literary army, shooting up like toadstools from the dung +heap, seize upon every dripping of filth that they can smell out, and +ask themselves, “How much money can I make with this production?” The +question, “What is the literary value of this fact?” does not occur +to them. That the task of art and literature is to ennoble the taste +of the public they have clean forgotten, even if they ever thought of +it. On the contrary, they speculate on the baser impulses and evil +qualities of the rabble. They have spied out the externals of the +modern Naturalists and Realists without attempting to penetrate into +the spirit of their works. Like senseless monkeys, they wade through +vulgarities and obscenities in order to excite the hankerings of the +great crowd, in order to be known as writers of the modern school, +and in order to succeed in a financial sense. The shameful influence +of this sort of authors--or, rather, writers--upon the population +is rooted in the disproportions of modern society. A reform in this +respect can only come from their gradual removal and from the elevation +of the culture and taste of the people. + +Here, again, we meet, too, those unfortunate degenerate subjects who +possess a certain literary gift, but whose whole mental action is +morbid. They often show that marked inclination for every kind of +vileness and coarseness which is called moral insanity. This can not +fail to betray itself in their writings. The frivolous and vulgar +attract them, because they answer to their own thought and feeling. The +more obscene and indecent is the subject with which they deal, the more +they feel themselves in their own free element. But we must not reason +from the character of these last writers to that of authors as a whole. +It is not they who give literature in general its purpose. They only +ape the form of genuine authorship without being able to comprehend its +purpose. + +Thus the Realism and Naturalism which are found in all departments +of modern art and literature are not, as Nordau thinks, marks of a +universal putrescence and nervous prostration, a “pestilential malady +of degeneration and hysteria.” Though those endeavours often overshoot +their mark, they are simply signs of that universal spirit of the times +that desiderates truth and fact, and gives the lie to all that is +mystical and supernatural. + +The foregoing inquiries show that the same phenomena in art may +be produced in ways most diverse psychologically. It is the most +unscientific levity to treat them summarily and to say, as Nordau does, +that whoever paints violet pictures has weak nerves, or whoever paints +in the manner of Manet has lesions of the retina, etc. In a psychiatric +diagnosis it is requisite strictly to individualize; and thus we are +brought to a question of the highest importance for the psychiatrist: +_How far can we, from a work of art or literature, diagnose a mental +disease of its author?_ + +The influence of derangements of the mind upon the action of the +subjects depends, in the first place, upon the kind of disease. In a +great number of cases the disease does not manifest itself at all in +action. In others, in consequence of diminished efficiency, the value +of the work is diminished, and finally positively insane ideas may be +manifest in products of the insane. + +In an acquired disease accompanied with gradual decay of intelligence, +as in general paresis, the disease may be detected by comparison with +previous performances, and occasionally the typical perversities in the +works of these patients lead to recognition of their misfortune. In the +congenital weakness of mind of degenerate artists and _littérateurs_ +case is different. The example of Courbet shows that a weak-minded +man may paint very nice pictures while sane persons sometimes mine +out the vilest stuff. For this reason the value of a work of art is +not decisive in the diagnosis of the mental condition. Nor, as I said +before, is the psychiatrist, as such, competent to express an opinion +concerning the value of such a work. + +Sometimes delusions make their appearance in everything the +insane person does. A painter may, in consequence of religious +delusions, paint nothing but pictures of saints. But to maintain the +converse--that whoever paints nothing but saints is suffering from +religious insanity--would be ridiculous. No diagnosis, therefore, of +insanity can be made from a painting or similar work of art, nor from +a musical composition. A musician under melancholia may, owing to his +morbid mood, compose only elegies and funeral marches; but that does +not authorize us to presume that because a composer only writes elegiac +music he is probably insane. The assertion of certain supersubtile +minds that certain compositions of Schumann’s betray his morbid state +of heart rests upon mere words, and deserves no notice. + +But with writers it is quite otherwise. Their action is much more +comprehensive, and commonly affords a much deeper insight into the +psychical life of the author than a painting can do. It is within the +power of a poet or a writer to disclose in his creations a mirror of +his whole inner life, his sentiments, and his thoughts. Hence we shall +sometimes be quite able to diagnose the insanity of a _littérateur_ +from his works. + +But even here we must proceed with the utmost caution and reserve. +The descriptions of the poet can only attain a diagnostic value when +they have express reference to his own individuality. The objective +description of situations and characters can usually afford no +inference concerning the psychical life of the poet, and we should +commit a gross error were we, without any particular information, to +identify him with a character created by him. Elegiac and melancholy +verses, even when they bespeak the sentiments of the poet, can not, +taken by themselves, justify us in presuming a pathological condition. +We have seen how Goethe frequently grieved nigh unto death, and really +contemplated suicide, yet we should not be justified in assuming +melancholy in the psychiatric sense. + +Where manifest delusions are described we can, in many cases, state +positively that the writer is insane. We shall do so with all the +greater certainty when it is not merely insanity in general that is +indicated, but the description takes on the type of a well-known morbid +form. + +Rousseau is a good instance in point. His Confessions and Dialogues +afford proof positive of insanity. A typical delusion of persecution is +manifest in his saying that “the Kings of Russia, England, and France, +all nobles, the women, the priests, and mankind in general,” wounded +by some statements in his works, “had banded themselves together and +declared a dreadful war” upon him. A full examination of the insanity +of Rousseau, with special reference to the above works, has been +undertaken by Möbius.[128] + +Tasso, who suffered from _melancholia agitata_ complicated with +hallucinations, wrote in a letter: “My sadness is so deep and +persistent that people often think me crazy, and I am forced to assent +to the opinion myself when I am not able to shut my thoughts up within +my breast, but break out into long monologues. My hallucinations are +human and demoniac. The human express themselves in shouts and cries, +such as men, and particularly women, utter, and in bestial laughter. +The demoniac express themselves in songs, etc. I take a book in my +hand to gain some information, and at once voices sound in my ears and +I distinguish the names of Paolo and Fulvia.” A quite typical example +of a modern poet whose insanity can be determined from his works is +Strindberg with his passionate misogyny and his other absurdities. A +comprehensive account of the state of mind of this author as betrayed +in his writings would fill a volume. I will therefore merely note the +most important points in a single writing which fully suffice to render +the diagnosis of his insanity certain. + +In Die Beichte eines Thoren (The Confession of a Fool) Strindberg +describes his ten years of married life. His wife had been divorced +from her first husband, a baron. The book is, in substance, a serious +complaint against this wife, whom he accuses of infidelity. If a sane +man thinks himself betrayed by his wife, he will either leave her or +forgive her. But in either case, both for the sake of his own honour +and for that of the children--and Strindberg had several--he will +endeavour, as far as possible, to screen such family affairs from +publicity, and will rather lead the public to suppose the fault is his +than call the mother of his children a harlot before all the world. +True, departure from, this principle is not of itself a symptom of +insanity; yet it must be admitted that it is at least very surprising +that a man should write a book for no other purpose than to accuse his +married wife, the mother of his children, of infidelity. + +Let us, however, consider the grave charges which Strindberg publicly +makes against his wife. From the moment the woman left her first +husband in order to marry him he becomes suspicious and believes she +has intercourse with other men. He does not suspect any individual in +particular, but every single man with whom she comes in contact for +a long series of years awakens his doubt and jealousy. Though he is +never able to adduce one single real fact by way of proof, he is yet +unceasingly tortured by the idea of the infidelity of his wife. She +not only has illicit relations with other men, but even extends her +unnatural desires, in _amor lesbicus_, to her own sex. She can not +make a call, nor even kiss a young girl, but he believes he detects +an unlawful, sexually contranatural act; and in his mind’s eye he +continually sees his wife in prison for her infractions of the moral +law, etc. In spite of it all, he loves his wife, and can not leave her. +Though he is fully convinced of her crime and depravity, yet the sight +of her “foot in its black stocking,” or even of her “garter,” is enough +to make him fall at her feet and, “with tears in his eyes,” implore her +pardon. Still the pangs of jealousy torment him anew. No less than six +times he “escapes,” and that into distant countries. But scarcely is +he away when desire seizes upon him. He is “shackled, not with chains +of iron, which he might break, but with chains of India rubber, which +draw him back.” He either returns or has his wife and children follow +him. There is a _Wiedersehen_ with great emotion, and straightway +new pangs of jealousy. Every waiter in the hotel, the _concierge_, a +lieutenant who comes to the _table d’hôte_, are objects of his wife’s +love. Once he was with his wife in a boat which was managed by a sailor +who wore very high boots. His wife looked at the boots, and forthwith +he was beside himself, detecting in that look a sexual aberration. The +same pangs of jealousy were excited by any intercourse of his wife +with any female. Thus he describes an old “devilish-looking person” +whom he says his wife hugged and kissed in a “lustful” way. Once when +his wife came to him she seemed to him to have the face of “that old +devil’s dam,” and he at once concluded that she had been with her, +and had committed illicit acts. Thus, no matter whether it were man +or woman, young or old, ugly or beautiful, in every living being he +detected a partner of his wife’s sin, and was driven by continual +pangs of jealousy into that desperation in which he wrote the book. It +ends with the words, “This, beloved, is my vengeance.” Such is his own +account. The _audiatur et altera pars_ may here be dispensed with. It +is a manifest case of jealous insanity. The image of the disease is, +however, essentially completed by the nature of his description. The +satisfaction with which he speaks of himself, the self-glorification +which appears in all his descriptions, is either one of the signs of +mental degeneration or, what is more probable, there is a delusion +of grandeur. He always speaks of himself as the “great poet,” the +“renowned scholar,” etc. In one place he says that people are jealous +of his great talent, and therefore might put him out of the way, which +is a characteristic manifestation of the delusion of persecution. + +Among the most important symptoms of such maladies are the so-called +referential ideas. The patients refer all that goes on about them to +themselves. In every look, in every harmless remark of a stranger, they +fancy they detect a hidden slight intended for them. Whatever is said +in their hearing they connect with their own individual selves, and +find in the simplest things strong confirmation of their delusions. If +people stand up in a shop, it is because they are present. If anybody +in the street spits, he means to do it at them. All the articles in the +newspaper are meant to apply to them. In short, everything that happens +has reference to them. + +This symptom is strongly marked throughout Strindberg’s book. He +misunderstands the most harmless remarks of his wife. In travelling, +if anybody speaks to him, either they do it to mortify him or to make +advances to his wife. The most ordinary counsels of those about him he +takes for cunning traps. + +It would, of course, carry me too far to inquire into all the +particulars set down in this bulky book in reference to this morbid +phenomenon. It may suffice here to mention one marked example of such +referential ideas. When Strindberg first read Ibsen’s Wild Duck, he +immediately thought the whole piece was intended for him and was only +written on his account. He expresses himself as follows: + +“It was a drama of the famous Norwegian spy, the inventor of equality +madness. How the book fell into my hands I could not say. But now +everything was clear, and gave occasion to the worst suspicions +concerning the reputation of my wife. The plot of the drama was as +follows: A photographer (a nickname I had earned by my novels drawn +from real life) has married a person of doubtful repute, who had +formerly been the mistress of a great proprietor. The woman supports +the household from a secret fund which she derives from her former +paramour. In addition to that, she carries on the business of her +husband, a good for nothing who spends his time drinking in the +society of persons of no consequence. Now, that is a misrepresentation +of the facts committed by the reporters. They were informed that Maria +[Strindberg’s wife] made translations, but they did not know that it +was I who gratuitously corrected them and paid over to her the sums +received for them. + +“Matters become bad when the poor photographer discovers that the +adored daughter who comes before her time into the world is not his +child, and that the wife has warned him when she induced him to marry +her. To complete his disgrace, the husband consents to accept a large +sum as indemnity from the former lover. By this I understand Maria’s +loan upon the baron’s security, which I indorsed after my wedding. But +as for the birth of the daughter, I can see no trace of analogy, for my +daughter was not born until two years after the wedding. But hold! The +dead girl! There, I am on the track! The dead child which forced us to +a marriage which otherwise would not have taken place! + +“I prepared a great scene for the afternoon. I wished to catch Maria +in cross-examination, to which I wished to give the form of a defence +for us both. We had been equally attacked by the scarecrow of the +masculinists, who had been paid for the pretty job.” + +This is a perfect example of such a referential idea, than which +nothing more typical can be imagined. Let it be observed how every +detail of Ibsen’s play is made use of in order to establish a +connection with the delusion. I have therefore no doubt at all that +Strindberg was insane. His malady took a well-known form, called +_paranoia simplex chronica_. + +Such patients are, in the true sense of the words, dangerous to +society. Strindberg himself tells how one day, “without direct +occasion,” without being able himself to account for his act, but +following a sudden impulse, he fell upon his wife unawares and beat +her unmercifully, so that she only escaped further abuse by the cries +of the children, who came running to her. Immediately after this +conduct he surrendered himself to full sensuous love for this wife. He +remarks himself that it is a peculiar union in which one drubs his wife +by day and enjoys her embraces at night. + +That a psychiatrical diagnosis is not to be based on isolated facts, +under pain of error, but that the underlying motives of the suspicious +behaviour must be examined most thoroughly, has been repeatedly said +above. I do not know how I can better render my position clear than +by placing into juxtaposition with the above case, in which I myself +diagnose insanity, one or two others in which I can not accept such +diagnoses. These will illustrate the extreme errors into which one +may be led either by an insufficient examination or by an arbitrary +delimitation of the latitude of health, and by accepting a definite +type as the normal man. + +That Dante had epileptic fits, is announced by Lombroso in a recent +paper.[129] “In the Divina Commedia, Dante himself describes several +fits in which he fell headlong and lost consciousness.” The passages +referred to are two, as follows: After Charon had driven together the +apostates from God, in order to carry them over the river, and Virgil +had described the terrors which awaited them, Dante says:[130] + + He ceased. The gloomy region shook amain! + Still its mere memory bathes with sweat my brow. + Rumbled that land of tears with moaning wind; + A light, vermilion-coloured, flashed from hell; + And, wholly vanquishing my palsied mind, + Even as a man whom sleep o’ertakes, I fell. + + _Parson’s Translation._ + +Another passage is as follows: + + Meanwhile he moaned so much, compassion took + My sense away, and like a corse I dropped. + + _Parson’s Translation._ + +Lombroso thinks himself forced by these passages to diagnose epilepsy +in Dante! Are we to take this seriously? If one of the comic papers +had undertaken to parody psychiatry, how could it have been more +extravagant? It would seem to me almost ludicrous to pay attention to +such assertions and to parley with them. Lombroso, however, is not only +a professor of psychiatry, but he is the founder of a “school,” and has +many adherents, not to say warm advocates. He is said to be “one of the +loftiest mental phenomena of the century.” He has “poured a veritable +flood of light, which those alone have not perceived who obdurately +close their eyes or who are too shortsighted to derive benefit from any +enlightenment whatsoever.”[131] + +Lombroso thinks, then, that Dante, in the verses quoted, describes +an actual state in which he found himself. But what justifies +such a presumption? To be logical, he ought to take all the other +descriptions in the Divina Commedia for actual events. He ought to +suppose that Dante actually saw and heard everything he describes in +hell and in purgatory; in other words, he ought to consider Dante to +be an hallucinant. Why does he not infer this from such lines as the +following? + + A leopard, glittering in a dappled hide, + That would not flee, though light and full of speed, + Hindering my way, before me I descried, + And often turned, as doubtful to proceed. + + _Parson’s Translation._ + +On the same principles, we ought here to diagnose hallucinations, +imperative ideas, or consecutive delusion. Dante addresses this +supplication to Virgil: + + Behold yon monster in my road, whose rage + Thrills through my veins until my pulses quake; + Defend me from her, thou illustrious sage! + + _Parson’s Translation._ + +Why does not Lombroso infer from the “rage which thrills through +the veins” that Dante had hallucinations of sensation? All this is +inferable by the same logical principle as the epilepsy. The verses +from which he infers epilepsy only describe the crushing sensations +which the sight of the terrors of hell occasion in him. + +In the Purgatorio, Dante describes three phenomena which he saw in a +dreamlike state. + + To the next cornice we had come; here fled + All power of speech, mine eyes were ravished so. + For, seized with ecstasy, I seemed to be + Rapt in a sudden vision of a crowd + Met in a temple. + + _Parson’s Translation._ + + Soon as my mind, that from itself had swerved, + Came back to true things that outside it lie, + I knew my dreams false, but their truth observed. + My leader then, who could perceive that I + Walked like a man by somnolence unnerved, + Said: “Come! what ails thee that thou canst not keep + Thy footing straight, but more than half a league + Hast moved with faltering steps, as if by sleep + Or wine o’ercome, and eyes that show fatigue?” + + _Parson’s Translation._ + +Lombroso says: “It will be seen that the fits in the Purgatorio take +more of the dreamy, somnambulic cast; those of the Paradiso more of the +ecstatic.” Such a state he infers from the following: + + So steadfast and attentive were mine eyes + In satisfying their decennial thirst, + That all my other senses were extinct, + And upon this side and on that they had + Walls of indifference, so the holy smile + Drew them into itself with the old net. + + _Longfellow’s Translation._ + +If from such poetical expressions a somnambulic condition is +presumable, then all poets suffer from that malady. Not only poets, but +all ordinary human beings make use of expressions equally somnambulic. +They say: “I did not know whether I was on my head or my heels,” “I was +senseless with joy,” “The world swam before my eyes,” “I saw blood,” +“I can give no account of what I did, but when I came to myself I was +miles away.” Just such terms, clothed in poetic garb, are adduced by +Lombroso as evidences of a somnambulic or ecstatic state. So he quotes +the following: + + At this voice saw I many little flames + From step to step descending and revolving, + And every revolution made them fairer. + Round about this one came they and stood still, + And a cry uttered so loud a sound + It here could find no parallel, nor I + Distinguished it, the thunder so o’ercame me. + + So did my mind, among those aliments + Becoming larger, issue from itself, + And that which it became can not remember. + + _Longfellow’s Translation._ + +Such are the evidences upon which “Master Lombroso” rests his thesis +that Dante had epilepsy accompanied with somnambulic and ecstatic +states. His disciples say that only the “obdurate” and the “imbecile” +can fail to perceive the great wisdom of this new doctrine. + +In his chapter on Examples of Insane Genius in his Genio e Follia, +Lombroso adduces Schopenhauer as a case in point. Let us consider +upon what this diagnosis rests. Lombroso says: “Schopenhauer suffered +from melancholy. Dread of smallpox scared him away from Naples; the +idea that he had used poisoned snuff ousted him from Verona. From +Berlin he fled before the cholera, having once before left the same +capital because of a levy of soldiers.” No evidence whatever is +adduced that Schopenhauer suffered from melancholia. On the contrary, +Schopenhauer had all his life long an enormous self-conceit, while +genuine subjects of melancholy are marked by the absence of that +trait, considering themselves rather as bad and incapable. Unless +it be proposed to identify an earnest and pessimistic temperament +with melancholy, there is no reason for saying that Schopenhauer +had melancholy. As for timidity about smallpox, cholera, and the +conscription, it is not a symptom of insanity. Lombroso enlarges +upon his great feeling of anxiety, his fear of men, etc. But these +are phenomena found in all neurasthenic subjects, and are not in +the least indicative of mental disease. “He hated Jews, women, and, +above all, philosophers. Dogs, on the other hand, he loved so that he +remembered them in his will.” If hatred of Jews is to be taken as a +morbid symptom, the world is in a bad way! Schopenhauer’s hatred of +philosophers can readily be explained. His essay on women is eccentric +and passionate. But is that insanity? Lombroso himself, in his own +book on women,[132] has far overtrumped Schopenhauer on this point; so +that he ought to be cautious about considering misogyny as a morbid +symptom. “Everything,” continues Lombroso, “was for him an object of +reflection and of earnest discussion. He sought after the causes of +the most insignificant things, such as his own excellent appetite, of +moonlight, etc.” The only peculiarity here is the juxtaposition of +his appetite and moonlight, which is not Schopenhauer’s doing. Then we +read: “He believed in the table communications of the spiritualists, +was convinced that his dog’s crooked leg could be straightened by +magnetism, that he could recover his hearing in the same way.” I +know nothing about Schopenhauer’s belief in spiritualism. As far as +I know, he wrote nothing about it. Lombroso ought to elucidate this, +and state his authority for the assertion. But what I do know is that +Lombroso himself was so befooled by a spiritualistic she-swindler that +he wrote: “I heartily repent and am ashamed that I have so stubbornly +contested the spiritualistic facts.”[133] There is nothing additional, +except matters which may be called little _traits_ of character, but +are certainly not morbid symptoms. “He who so often suffered from +the intolerance of others, raised against Moleschott and Büchner the +most grievous and unjustifiable menaces. He hid his joy from nobody +when he learned that they had been forbidden to teach.” Just because +Schopenhauer had suffered so much at the hands of his adversaries, +he became malicious and filled with hate against them. We further +read: “He also considered himself as the object, as the victim of a +widely disseminated conspiracy of professors of philosophy directed +peculiarly against him, that they had come to an agreement in Gotha not +to mention his works, but to kill them by silence. On the other hand, +he feared that they would express an opinion on his works.” But this +opinion of Schopenhauer, whether quite true or not, had a sane reason +in the hostile attitude of the university professors toward him. It +would therefore be a great mistake to diagnose from that a delusion of +persecution, especially since the whole mode of manifestation of the +idea had nothing in common with a clinical symptom. Thus Lombroso’s +data afford no presumption that Schopenhauer was at any time mentally +diseased, and I can but pronounce the attempt to range him in the +category of insane genius to be distinctly unsuccessful. + +Nordau, for whom every assertion of Lombroso’s is an oracle, goes a +step further, and pronounces that “the congregation of Schopenhauer +is made up of the degenerate and insane.” Of the man himself he +says: “Imagine a Schopenhauer who had written no astonishing books, +and we should have before us only a repulsive _lusus naturæ_, whose +morals would necessarily exclude him from all respectable society, +and whose fixed idea that he was a victim of persecution would point +him out as a subject for a madhouse.” Now, quite independently of the +gross blunder about the delusion of persecution, this proposition is +psychologically entirely incorrect. At best it amounts only to this: +that had Schopenhauer not been Schopenhauer, then he would have been +another man than he was. I have shown, in speaking of the psychology +of genius, that the little peculiarities of character and manners were +readily explained by the peculiar mental action of men of genius. It is +therefore illogical, to say the least, to subtract his genius and leave +his peculiarities as a remainder. + +The special diagnoses that Nordau sets forth from the writings or art +works of famous men are quite of a piece with his judgment of the +population generally, and form a fit pendant to Lombroso’s diagnosis of +the epilepsy of Dante. But Nordau considerably surpasses the method of +his master. Lombroso limits his efforts to the discovery of symptoms +of insanity, and proceeds according to the well-known method, “was +nicht herausinterprätiert werden kann, das wird hineininterprätiert,” +or what can not be made out by exegesis is to be made in by inegesis. +Nordau, on the other hand, is an æsthetic critic. With the professional +omniscience of his craft, he criticises whatever falls within the +domains of philosophy, literature, music, and painting, and as soon +as the criticism turns out unfavourable to the author, down comes the +diagnosis of degeneration. Thereupon, by Lombroso’s method, a list of +symptoms are _hineininterprätiert_, or made in, and the justice of the +verdict is beyond all cavil. The boyishness and amateurishness of such +a proceeding need scarcely be pointed out. + +Zola, as everybody knows, is the founder of modern Naturalism in +literature. His “Naturalism” is, however, not Naturalism in the sense +defined above, though perhaps the definition may agree with his +theoretical views. But practically his Naturalism is that which--in +its endeavour to exhibit life without any sort of falsehood, without +ignoring all that is grievous and base in it, nor pretending that +there is more of the agreeable and the elevated than there really +is--so widely overshoots its mark as to search out the vile and the +degraded. He does not fairly sample human life upon the average; the +characters he paints do not afford a type of the time in its general +character. On the contrary, all his novels describe the members of one +degenerating family which is subject to extreme deficiencies, mostly +of morals. Upon this aim of Zola’s Nordau pours out the critic’s +bitterest vials, and in fact he flies into a rage with the founder of +Naturalism. “He,” says Nordau, “who ridicules the ‘idealists’ as being +narrators of ‘exceptional cases,’ of that which ‘never happened,’ +has chosen for the subject of his _magnum opus_ the most exceptional +case he could possibly have found--a group of degenerates, lunatics, +criminals, prostitutes, and ‘mattoids,’ whose morbid nature places them +apart from the species, who do not belong to a regular society, but +are expelled from it, and at strife with it; who conduct themselves as +complete strangers to their epoch and country, and are, by their manner +of existence, not members of any modern civilized people whatever, but +belong to a horde of primitive wild men of bygone ages.”[134] Does +the reader not see against what an enormous and crass contradiction +Mr. Nordau here bumps his head? What! He who, in most self-sufficient +fashion and in his most resonant chest tones, proclaims that for the +last half century the good society of all civilized countries has been +in a progressive mental dissolution, a state of “putrefaction,” and +that we are now “in the midst of a grave endemic, a species of black +plague of degeneration and hysteria”--_he_ asserts all at once that the +degenerate, the weak-minded, the criminal, “are the most exceptional +case” that could be found, that degenerates not only belong to no +regular society, but that they only “belong to a horde of primitive +wild men of bygone ages!” Well, well! Why, wherein does Zola conflict +with Nordau? Zola describes a group of degenerate persons, and, being +a naturalist, he is understood to imply that this is a type, a fair +sample, a representative of a family of our times. Is not this a Nordau +in the shape of a novelist? Nordau’s purpose is to instruct us that the +society of our time is in a state of putrefaction and that we are in a +black plague of degeneration. Anybody can see that he is Zola dressed +up like a scientific man. But when Nordau looks in the glass and sees +his own caricature grinning him in the face he loses his temper and +declares that such a society, just as he himself had painted it, is, +of all things that exist, “the most exceptional case.” Nordau, like +the witch of the fairy tale, has unwittingly passed judgment upon +himself, and has destroyed his whole theory with his own hand. But here +as everywhere he exaggerates beyond all bounds. To say that Zola’s +degenerate family naturally belongs to some “horde of primitive wild +men of bygone ages,” is for its inaccuracy and its screaming tone on +a par with his “black plague of degeneration.” Nordau thus takes up +a peculiar attitude, for he declares that “Zola’s novels do not prove +that things are badly managed in this world, but merely that Zola’s +nervous system is out of order”;[134] and his reason is that Zola +fancies he sees in a degenerate family a type of modern society, which +seems to be precisely what Nordau himself says. + +But the way in which Nordau, in order to support the correctness of +his diagnosis from Zola’s novels, endeavours to refer all possible +symptoms of insanity to the author is the most comical thing that ever +was. Even Lombroso, though he is utterly unjustified in using the +fancies of the poet as data, does nevertheless adhere to what Dante’s +language, taken literally, expresses, for Dante does say, “_I_ fell +down,” etc. Nordau, however, without the slightest reason, identifies +the novelist with his quite objectively described characters. Although +Nordau himself finds their originals in the Karangal family, yet he +saddles the author with all the faults of the degenerate personages of +his novels. Thus he says: “Zola is affected by _Coprolalia_ to a very +high degree.” Coprolalia means an involuntary utterance of maledictions +and vulgar speech. It belongs to the series of imperative acts and is +often observed in degenerates. Zola himself is adjudged to exhibit this +symptom because he puts curses and dirty language into the mouths of +the degenerates described by him. From his pictures of prostitutes and +narratives of sexual perversities and exacerbations Nordau, without +further information, concludes that Zola himself is sexually insane. +Because Zola, in his naturalistic endeavour to paint everything +unfalsified, minutely indicates the various smells, Nordau presumes +that he has a morbidly developed sense of smell. “He shows at times an +unhealthy predominance of the sensations of smell in his consciousness +and a perversion of the olfactory sense which make the worst odours, +especially those of all human excretions, appear to him particularly +agreeable and sensually stimulating.” “Smellers among degenerates,” +says Nordau, “represent an atavism going back, not only to the primeval +period of man, but infinitely more remote still, to an epoch anterior +to man. Their atavism retrogrades to animals among whom sexual activity +was directly excited by odoriferous substances, as it is still at the +present day in the musk deer, or who, like the dog, obtained their +knowledge of the world by the action of their noses.”[135] To this +category Zola belongs, because his novels have many mentions of smells! +What should we come to were we to judge all poets according to this +example, and identify them with their creations? + +A phenomenon, interesting in many respects, which has given occasion +to various psychiatric discussions, is that of Tolstoi. Both poet and +philosopher, he is of most interest to us in our present inquiry in his +quality as philosopher. Already in early years the writings of Tolstoi +displayed, besides a remarkable gift of graphic description and notable +psychological character study, also a struggle for a metaphysics +which might appease the doubts and contradictions born in his soul. +That civilization which consists in bringing pleasure and joy to a +slender minority at the expense of the mass of humanity seemed to him +worthless, and property the source of all evils. In The Cossacks and +Cholstomêr he gave expression to these views. Later he became engrossed +with the problem of death--the connection between being and non-being. +In Three Deaths he paints the disparity between Nature and civilization +in respect to death. The solution of this problem gradually absorbed +him more and more. New doubts continually arose, until he at last +came to deny every end of life, and suffered, according to his own +narrative, unspeakable anguish about it. + +In My Confession he describes how for a long time he sought in vain to +answer the question, “Wherefore do I live?” Whatever he undertook, this +question pressed forward--“To what end, and what then?” If at death all +ceases, he asked himself, to what end are we producing and working? +What is the use of being respected and renowned? “Any day disease and +death may come to those I love and to me, and nothing but putrefaction +and worms will be left. My actions, however great they may be, will all +be forgotten--whether sooner or later is indeed indifferent. The chief +matter is that I will no longer be in existence. To what end, then, +are all these cares? That a man should see this, and seeing it, go on +living, is indeed a matter for astonishment.” + +Powerfully does he describe his sensations in the following words: + +“It is now a long, long while since that Oriental tale was told of the +traveller in the desert who is pursued by an animal that has grown +wild. In order to escape it he jumps into a waterless well, at whose +bottom, however, a dragon is lying, with open jaws, ready to devour +him. The unfortunate man dares not creep out, lest he be torn to pieces +by the savage animal; and he also does not dare to jump down to the +bottom of the well for fear of being devoured by the dragon. So he +remains clinging to the branch of a wild shrub which has taken root in +a rift of the well. But his hands begin to get tired, and he feels that +it will soon be quite impossible for him to escape the destruction that +awaits him on either hand; nevertheless, he still holds on, but now +sees that two mice--a black one and a white one--are running about the +trunk of the very shrub to which he is clinging and nibbling it away. +Soon--aye, soon!--will the shrub break off and precipitate him to the +bottom of the well into the jaws of the monster. The traveller sees +this and knows full well that he is irrevocably doomed to death; yet, +while he still clings to the shrub, he looks about him and discovers +drops of honey on its leaves. He reaches out to these with his tongue +and licks them. + +“Just in the same way do I hold on to the branch of life. I know that I +can not escape the dragon of death, who is waiting, ready to rend me, +and I can not comprehend why I have been condemned to this torture. I +try to suck the honey which in earlier years gave me comfort, but it +delights me no longer, and the white and the black mouse gnaw day and +night at the branch to which I am clinging. I see the dragon quite +clearly, and the honey is no longer sweet on my lips. These alone I +do indeed see plainly--the unavoidable dragon and the mice--and I can +not turn my gaze away from them. This is no fairy tale, but a real, +irrefutable truth which is comprehensible to every one. + +“The earlier delusion caused by the joys of life, which made me forget +the horror of the dragon, cheats me no longer. They may say to me as +often as they like: ‘You are not able to comprehend the meaning of +life; do not think about it--live.’ I can not do that any more, because +I have done so indeed too long already. Now, it is no longer possible +for me to avoid seeing the days and the nights which are hurrying by +and carrying me toward death. I see only this because it is the truth. +Everything else is untruth. Those two drops of honey which more than +anything else diverted my eyes from the horrible truth--the love of my +family and love of writing, which last I called ‘art’--seem no longer +sweet to me.” + +In vain had he endeavoured to gain enlightenment from science on the +question that tormented him, “Wherefore do I live?” And so he sought to +find the solution in life itself: “And I found that the people of my +class have four ways of getting out of this dreadful position in which +we all are situated. + +“The first way out is that of ignorance. It consists in this: that one +does not need to know, does not need to understand, that life is an +evil and devoid of sense. The persons belonging to this category--who +for the most part are women or very young or stupid men--have not yet +comprehended that question of life which Schopenhauer, Solomon, and +Buddha set before themselves. They see neither the dragon that is +awaiting them nor the mice that are gnawing at the shrubs to which they +are clinging, and they lick the drops of honey.... + +“The second way out is that of the epicurean. It consists of this: that +having come to see the hopelessness of life, one simply enjoys the good +it offers, looking neither at the dragon nor the mice, and sucks up +carefully every drop of honey, especially if there is a great deal of +it.... + +“The third way out is that of the strong and energetic. It consists in +destroying life as soon as the knowledge is attained that life is an +evil and devoid of meaning.... + +“The fourth way out is that of the weak. It consists in this: that, +in spite of the fact that the evil and its lack of meaning are +comprehended, one does not cease to live, though knowing that nothing +will be attained in the end. The persons who form this group know that +death is better than life, but lack the courage to act rationally by +making an end of the deception as quickly as possible and taking their +own lives. Yet they act as if they still expected something. That is +the way out of the weak; for why do I not procure myself the greater +good, which I know full well, and which lies within my grasp?... To +this group it was that I belonged.” + +In his further researches, Tolstoi arrived at the conclusion that +“rational knowledge” could only extend to that which we are in a +position to apprehend. + +“What did I do when I sought for an answer in the philosophical +sciences? I studied the thoughts of those who found themselves in the +same position as I, but they had no answer to the question, Wherefore +do I live? It is obvious that I, too, could not learn anything more +than what I already knew--that one is not able to know anything.” + +He came to this conclusion: that “rational knowledge” can apply +only the finite to the finite and the infinite to the infinite, and +that it is therefore impossible to find in “rational knowledge” any +answer to his question. Only the assumption of something which is +beyond our capacity of apprehension, and therefore not capable of +being established by rational knowledge, can give an answer to his +question, and that something is the joining of the finite with the +infinite--faith. “Thus I inevitably came to see that in addition to +the rational knowledge, which at an earlier time I had considered to +be the only thing, all mankind possesses still another knowledge, an +irrational one--faith, which makes life possible.” Thus it was that +Tolstoi, at the age of fifty-five, returned to the orthodox Christian +faith in which he was originally trained, and in which he now again +found that calm and contentment after which he hankered. + +Nordau does not agree with Tolstoi’s philosophy, therefore Tolstoi is a +degenerate. Now, unless the conception of psychical degeneration is to +be completely turned upside down, it can not be assumed that a person +can suddenly become a degenerate in the fifty-fifth year of his life. +One may get an attack of mental disease at any age, but degeneration +means disturbances of development; and therefore if a person has +not manifested any disturbances of this kind before his fifty-fifth +year, he is not a degenerate. If it is to be assumed that Tolstoi’s +views were caused by some diseased mental process, then it ought to +be proved that he had become mentally diseased, that he had suffered +from delusions or other phenomena of the same kind, or psychical +disturbances must be found in his whole past life. + +Nordau does none of these things. He contents himself, in his customary +manner, merely with criticising Tolstoi’s philosophy, and sets up his +own infallible, sole, proper metaphysics in opposition to it, and +the degree of deviation from his opinion defines the degree of the +“degeneration” of the other. + +This is not the place, nor do I feel any special inclination, to +undertake a discussion of Nordau’s philosophy; but, as he fancies that +he sees a symptom of disease in every deviation from his own opinion, +it will be as well for us to consider at least its principal points. + +Tolstoi was tormented by the question, “Wherefore do I live?” That is +in Nordau’s eyes a sign of degeneration, for he considers this question +a superfluous one, since it can be answered quite satisfactorily +without any special difficulty. The man who has faith, says Nordau, +will have no occasion to ponder over this question. “The unbeliever, +who is convinced that his life is a particular instance of the +universal life of Nature, that his individuality has blossomed into +existence as a necessary law-governed operation of eternal, organic +forces, knows also very well not only ‘wherefore,’ but also ‘what for,’ +he lives. He lives because, and as long as, life is to him a source of +gratification--that is to say, of joy and happiness.”[136] According to +this view, life ought to be for all living people a source of joy and +happiness, since, as Nordau says, one lives only so long as this is the +case. But does this view correspond with the facts? Do not thousands +of persons live who have no faith, whose life is to them anything but +a source of joy and happiness? Any one who really knows the world in +which we live will know that there are thousands of persons devoid +of faith whose life gives them nothing but unspeakable suffering, +torments, and misery, and who would yet not voluntarily leave this +world. We often see persons who have been deprived by incurable and +painful disease of every joy and hope yet clinging to life with every +fibre of their being. Joy and happiness, therefore, are not the causes +of our continuing to live. It is a powerful instinct residing in all +living beings which lies at the root of our clinging to life--the +instinct of self-preservation. This instinct is compounded of a number +of impulses and sensations, such as the impulses to eat, drink, sleep, +etc. It is the satisfying of these impulses, which in the case of +human beings are refined to a high degree, as we have seen in another +place, that forms the joys of life. The latter, therefore, are only the +results of our continuing to live, and not, as Nordau maintains, its +causes, in which light the instinct alone can be regarded. + +Quite apart from its general incorrectness, therefore, Nordau’s +explanation is no answer to Tolstoi’s question, “Wherefore do I live?” +Our instincts form one cause of our existence. It is not, however, into +this, but into the aim that Tolstoi inquires. If, nevertheless, the +satisfying of the impulses--that is, the joys--of which Nordau speaks +is considered to be the aim of life, if consequently it is maintained +that we live in order to eat, while we yet eat in order to live, then +one is guilty of a voluntary perversion of the facts. + +The question as to the aim and meaning of life has occupied many +philosophers before Tolstoi, and will continue, in spite of Nordau, to +be frequently a subject of reflection, and no symptom of degeneration +need be seen therein. Nordau, of course, according to his well-known +method of perverting and misusing scientific terms, calls this +investigation of the philosopher a “mania of doubt and brooding +thought.” He says: “It is not, then, the noble desire for knowledge +which forces Tolstoi to be ceaselessly occupied with questions +concerning the aim and meaning of life, but the degenerative mania +of doubt and brooding thought, which is barren, because no answer, +no explanation, can satisfy them; for it is obvious that be the +‘therefore’ ever so exhaustive, it can never silence the mechanically +impulsive ‘wherefore’ proceeding from the unconscious.”[137] Does +Nordau really consider his “therefore” clear and exhaustive? That +the real mania of doubt of the degenerate can never be satisfied is +perfectly true, but it would be ridiculous to turn this proposition +around and say that every one who fosters doubts for which he is unable +to find any satisfactory explanation is a degenerate. Besides, Nordau +has here once more defeated his own ends, for Tolstoi did after all +find satisfaction, and that in religious faith. + +I freely concede that it is psychologically a peculiar phenomenon that +any one who has occupied himself so much with natural sciences as +Tolstoi has should suddenly become an orthodox believer; but if the +nature and manner in which he has come to this do not correspond with a +clinical form of disease, then faith as such does not entitle us in any +way to assume a pathological process. Religious faith can be reconciled +with the metaphysics of the present day, and is to be considered as a +symptom of disease only when it manifests itself, as in paranoia, as a +delusive idea. + +Nordau is an optimist, and therefore declares the whole system of +pessimism in philosophy to be a symptom of disease. His interpretation +of the riddle of life “explains optimism and pessimism simply as +an adequate or inadequate vitality, as the existence or absence of +adaptability, as health or illness.”[138] He overlooks completely the +fact that optimism and pessimism in philosophy are entirely the results +of intellectual action, that it is in an objective manner that the +philosopher attains his conclusions, and that these are independent +of his subjective sensation, or exert only a secondary influence upon +it. Schopenhauer, in spite of his pessimism, desired a long life. +What Nordau means, what he designates as health and disease, refers +entirely to subjective sensation, and therefore to the love of life and +weariness thereof. That philosophical pessimism may in many cases be +the result of a diseased feeling of weariness can be conceded without +further discussion, but this is by no means invariably the rule, and +therefore here also, as always is the case in psychiatry, there is +need of a rigid individualization. Were Nordau less superficial he +would know that subjective optimism--the love of life--may be just +as complete a symptom of disease as the weariness of life. The power +of easy endurance in the insane paretic who finds himself in a happy +state of mind, and to whom the world appears in its rosiest aspect, +is a classical symptom of this disease. The weak-minded person whose +imbecility prevents him from reflecting on the seriousness of life, +and who is imbued with a sense of his own importance and greatness, +generally feels himself happy and contented, whereas, as we have seen +in our discussion about the man of genius, great, powerful minds +are just those that are always discontented and dissatisfied. That +optimism and pessimism are to be conceived of as health and disease, is +therefore another of those arbitrary assertions of Nordau which lack +all scientific foundation. + +In his researches into the subject of morality it was especially +modern marriage which occupied Tolstoi, and he endeavoured to study +its nature and right of existence from all sides. The Kreutzer Sonata, +in which he developed his views upon this point, very soon gained a +world-wide reputation, and gave rise to the most violent discussions +and misunderstandings. The conclusion to be extracted from this work +(which, in fact, has been extracted therefrom) is that, according to +his moral teaching, the destruction of the human species should be +brought about by absolute continence, and that mankind should die out +with the present generation. On the strength of this theory there were +people who fancied that they recognised in Tolstoi a sexual psychopath, +and traced to this fact his surprising doctrines. In consequence of +these misunderstandings Tolstoi was induced, after repeated requests, +to explain in a special commentary what had been his real intention in +writing the Kreutzer Sonata. + +After a detailed examination of matrimonial and extra-matrimonial +sexual intercourse in its sanitary and social relations, he sets up +absolute continence as an ideal worth striving for. To the objection +that in carrying out this ideal the human race would become extinct he +rejoins: “Apart from the fact that the destruction of the human race is +no new idea for the inhabitants of our world, that it is in the case of +religious persons an article of faith, and in the case of scientists an +inevitable conclusion from the observations regarding the cooling of +the sun, there lies in this objection a widespread and ancient error. +It is said that if mankind attains the ideal of perfect chastity it +destroys itself, and that therefore this ideal is not a true one. But +those who speak in this way confuse intentionally or unintentionally +two distinct subjects--the direction or precept and the ideal. +Chastity is not a precept or direction, but an ideal, or a preliminary +condition thereto. But an ideal remains an ideal only so long as its +accomplishment is possible solely in the idea, in the mind, so long as +it appears to be attainable solely in eternity, and consequently so +long as the possibility of an approach thereto is infinite. Could the +ideal be attained (if we can conceive of its accomplishment), then it +would cease to be an ideal.” + +Accordingly, Tolstoi merely attacks sexual immorality, and neither this +nor his other doctrines of morality, in which he preaches the love +of one’s neighbour and the equal rights of all men, contains any new +feature. + +In questions of philosophy, of metaphysics and morality, in which we +are still very far from being able to establish absolute truths, we +ought therefore, more than on any other subject whatever, to practise +toleration toward our antagonists. Every one must be free to criticise +his opponent, and Nordau may say of Tolstoi that his “theory of life, +the fruit of the despairing mental labour of his whole life, is +therefore nothing but a haze, a failure to comprehend his own questions +and answers and hollow verbiage. His ethics--on which he himself lays a +far greater stress than on his philosophy--is not in much better case +than the latter.”[139] + +So long as Nordau confines himself to simple criticism, freedom must be +accorded to him to pass sentence on Tolstoi. But every one will have +the same right with reference to Nordau’s ethics and metaphysics. To +deduct, however, a condition of disease from a deviation from one’s own +particular opinion is, and must always be, unscientific. + +Many persons would without doubt judge Nordau’s philosophy and ethics +in a similar manner as he does Tolstoi’s. Take, for example, what +he says about marriage: “Marriage, moreover, was not instituted for +the man, but for the woman and the child. It is a protective social +institution for the benefit of the weaker part. Man has not yet +conquered and humanized his polygamous animal instincts to the same +extent as woman. It would, for the most part, be quite agreeable to him +to exchange the woman he possesses for a new one.”[140] If every one +who does not agree with this view, as well as with very many others of +Nordau’s contentions on this point, is a degenerate, there would not, I +fancy, be many sane persons in this world besides Mr. Nordau. + +If marriage, as he maintains, was instituted, not for the man, but only +for the woman and child; if the man enters into an agreement for his +whole life, not from ideas of self-interest, but merely from ideas of +compassion, and in order to give “protection” to the “weaker part,” +then marriage as a whole would have neither title nor moral foundation. +An agreement only holds so long as it is founded on legitimate mutual +interests. When these fail, the agreement must be dissolved, and no +power in the world will be able to uphold it. + +The idea that Nature intended man to be polygamic but the woman not, +is not original with Nordau. It has been frequently brought forward, +and has in later times found upholders in Hartmann[141] and others. I +have never been able to see in this idea anything beyond an endeavour +to furnish a scientific excuse for the immorality and excesses of the +stronger sex. Even though it should be assumed that in general the +sexual instinct is stronger in men than in women, would this justify a +morality which permits the man to do what he likes, even to indulge in +the most dissolute debauchery, while the woman, on the contrary, who +lacks the strength even only once to withstand an impulse, is branded +as deeply fallen? Is this the protection which the “stronger” sex gives +to the “weaker”? + +But Nordau’s opinion--that man originally did not have stronger +sexual instincts than the woman, but that he has “not yet conquered +and humanized his polygamous animal instincts to the same extent as +woman”--is certainly new. Therefore, according to him, the “weak +woman,” who requires the protection of the strong man, stands higher on +the ladder of development than the strong man himself. What wisdom we +do invent to palliate our own weaknesses! + +Nordau’s chief fault and error are that he considers himself justified +in drawing a psychiatric conclusion from his purely subjective +criticism of a work of art. The art-critic’s point of view toward a +work of art must be an essentially different one from that of the +psychologist or psychiatrist. The first merely considers the work as +such according to its value; the latter, on the other hand, seeks to +ascertain from the work of art the psychical processes of the author. +It is evident that to do this it is indispensable to get at the purpose +of the artist or writer which lies at the root of his work. Nordau, +however, exercises criticism primarily, and troubles himself little +about the real purpose of the writer. + +In the same way he judges, among others, also Ibsen. The literature +with reference to this writer is enormously large, and opinions about +his purpose are very diverse. By many Ibsen is not generally regarded +as a Naturalist, but it is fancied that in his characters are to +be found symbolical incorporations of poetical and philosophical +ideas. That his later writings, in particular the Master Builder, +are to be regarded in an allegorical light, seems, indeed, pretty +well established. Nordau, however, treats them throughout as purely +naturalistic productions, criticising the individual characters without +at the same time reflecting whether it was at all the writer’s purpose +to describe real characters taken from life. + +It would carry me too far if I were to indulge here in further +researches as to whether the view Nordau has adopted regarding Ibsen’s +writings corresponds with that writer’s intention. In any event, +Nordau’s psychiatric judgment of Ibsen is again entirely based on a +purely subjective criticism of his works. + +How important it is for the psychologist and psychiatrist, in judging +a work of art, primarily to ascertain the purpose of the artist--the +motive which lies at the basis of his work--I will make clear by an +example, which shows to sufficiency into what errors one may fall +when, in forming psychiatric expert opinions, he confines himself to +subjective criticism of a work of art, instead of investigating the +psychological sources to which it owes its origin. This example is +that of Richard Wagner, who has already given manifold occasion to +psychiatric errors. As this case is instructive for many reasons, and +at the same time of general interest, I shall investigate it a little +more in detail, and treat of it in a separate chapter. + + + + + RICHARD WAGNER AND PSYCHOPATHOLOGY. + + +It is beyond the scope of this work to give anything like a connected +biography of Wagner, even though it would conduce largely to a better +understanding of our researches. I must therefore refer the reader to +the copious literature which exists on the subject of Wagner’s life, +and especially to his own statements, in his Gesammelte Schriften und +Dichtungen. I shall confine myself here simply to calling attention to +those points in his life which are requisite for an explanation of the +psychical processes to which his artistic creations owe their origin. +My treatment of the latter will not aim at anything like an artistic +critical study, but will proceed wholly from a psychological point of +view in so far as may be requisite for the formation of a psychological +analysis. + +Wagner was born at Leipsic on May 22, 1813. His father is described +as a clever and intelligent man, by occupation a clerk of police, who +died as early as November, 1813--that is to say, half a year after the +birth of his son. Shortly afterward the child’s mother married a friend +of her late husband, Louis Geyer, an actor, painter, and poet, who +died when Wagner was only seven years of age. The latter’s education, +consequently, was chiefly directed by his mother, who devoted herself +to this duty with all love and conscientiousness. He attended the +Dresden school of art and later the Nicolai school in Leipsic. + +Wagner was no infant prodigy. Yet even at an early age he gave evidence +of a lively fantasy, indulging in manifold poetical attempts; but +it was not until the period of his youth that he first displayed any +decided talent for music. It was at the Gewandhaus concerts in Leipsic +that he first came to know Beethoven’s compositions, which made a +strong impression on his youthful mind. With ardent zeal he buried +himself in the study of Beethoven, and Dorn thus expresses himself with +regard to him: “I doubt whether there has ever been a young composer +who was more conversant with Beethoven’s works than Wagner was at the +age of eighteen.” + +Even in the years of his youth that impulse made itself felt in Wagner +which we have learned to recognise as a characteristic of great +men--the creative impulse. He himself was perfectly aware of it, and +put it in a poetical form when he said that a fairy had stood beside +his cradle and granted him a gift that is frequently disdained--“The +spirit that is ne’er content, which always thinks of something new.” +This impulse to create was manifested during the period of Wagner’s +artistic development in two different ways. Two opposing elements +struggled in him for the mastery; sometimes the one gained the upper +hand, sometimes the other, until, tried by this struggle, he followed +his true artistic nature and remained true to it to the end. These two +elements were the impulse to give expression to his artistic sensations +and feelings, which impulse we have found to have been the guiding +principle of all the creations of Goethe, and the objectively formed +craving to create, which was excited from without. + +After a number of minor attempts in the way of writing poetry and +composing, Wagner put together a libretto called the Fairies, the +idea of which was borrowed from one of Gozzi’s tales. He says, to be +true: “What I constructed was certainly nothing else than just what I +wanted--namely, a libretto; and I set it to music in accordance with +the impressions that Beethoven, Weber, and Marschner had made upon +me.”[142] But he adds: “And yet, not the suitability for a libretto +which I had discovered in Gozzi’s tale alone drew me toward it, but the +subject itself touched me to the quick.” In the poetical subject of the +fairy who gave up her immortality that she might possess the man she +loved, Wagner had unconsciously given artistic expression to the mood +within him. + +At the same time an impulse had made itself felt in his case which +perfectly harmonized with his age and the external influences working +upon him--an impulse toward a brilliant artistic career, an ardent +longing for fame and honour. “An impulse grew within me, amounting in +intensity to a consuming yearning, to rise above the littleness and +wretchedness of the circumstances that controlled me. This impulse, +however, had only a secondary influence on my actual life itself; +primarily, it aimed at a brilliant career as an artist.”[143] + +While in this state of mind Wagner wrote a second opera--Forbidden +Love, or the Novice of Palermo--for which he had adapted the plot +of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure. In the summer of 1834 he had +accepted the post of musical director at the theatre of Magdeburg. +With reference to this he says: “My remarkable converse with singers +behind the scenes and before the footlights entirely corresponded with +my inclination toward diverse forms of amusement.”[144] During this +period he completed the composition of Forbidden Love. His sole purpose +was to please, to win fame and approbation. “For a holiday performance +on New Year’s day, 1835, I hastily prepared some music which generally +pleased. Easily-won successes like this confirmed me very strongly in +the view that, in order to please, one ought certainly not to consider +too scrupulously the means at one’s command. And it was upon this +principle that I proceeded with the composition of my Forbidden Love.” + +We perceive an essential difference between the origin of the Fairies +and that of Forbidden Love. Wagner himself recognised this, and says on +the subject: “If this subject is compared with that of the Fairies, it +will be noticed that the possibility was open to me to develop myself +according to either of two fundamentally different tendencies; to the +sacred earnestness of my original sentiment there opposed itself a +bold tendency, nourished by the impressions of my life, toward wild, +sensuous impetuosity, toward a saucy joyousness, which seemed to +contradict the former most emphatically.”[145] Farther on he says: +“Whoever chooses to compare this composition with the Fairies will +hardly be able to comprehend how so marked a conversion of tendencies +could be brought about in so short a time. My path led me in the first +instance to utter frivolity in my opinions about art; this was the +case during the first period of my entry upon the practical career of +musical director at the theatre. The rehearsing and direction of those +very pliant fashionable French operas, the piquant and daring elements +in their orchestral effects, gave me many a childish joy when I could +send them out into the audience from my director’s desk.”[146] + +In the autumn of 1837 Wagner went to Riga to take the post of first +musical director of the theatre there. Here he found excellent material +for his opera, and applied himself “with much love to using it.” He +composed for the singers several interpolations for various operas, +and also made up the text for a two-act comic opera, the Happy Bear +Family, the subject of which he had borrowed from a narrative in the +Thousand and One Nights. He had already composed one part of this when +he became filled with disgust at the work and turned away from it with +aversion. He now determined “to do something really great--to write +an opera, for the production of which only the most important forces +should be appropriate,” so that he might not be tempted to bring it +before the public in the limited circumstances in which he happened to +be. It should be to him an incentive to exert himself to the utmost to +get out of the conditions that were so loathsome to him. + +In this state of mind he sketched out the plan of a great tragic opera +in five acts--Rienzi, the Last of the Tribunes--the material for which +he had borrowed from Bulwer Lytton’s story. He strove in this to +create something great and brilliant, which would satisfy his artistic +ambition. “Even here, in the composition of the text, there was in +my mind really nothing else than to write an effective libretto. The +Grand Opera, with all its scenic and musical splendour, its effectful, +passionate musical fulness, loomed up before me; and it became the +desire of my artistic ambition not merely to seek to imitate it, but to +surpass all it had offered hitherto with unbounded lavishness.” + +One portion of this opera had already been completed when Wagner +resolved to break with his present life. Without means, without +preparation, without any prospects, he straightway betook himself from +Riga to Paris. During the sea voyage, which lasted four weeks and in +the course of which he visited the coast of Norway, there recurred +to him the legend of the Flying Dutchman, with which at an earlier +period he had become familiar. This legendary figure now made a deep +impression upon his mind. “He gained spiritual power from my own +peculiar situation; from the storms, the billows, the rocky northern +shore and the activity of the sailors, he got physiognomy and colour.” + +When Wagner reached Paris and became dazzled by the brilliancy of its +musical world, the figure of the Flying Dutchman was at first blotted +out again, and his efforts seemed once more wholly directed toward +the opera that should make an impression. “When I was present at the +brilliant performances of the Grand Opera, an event, by the way, which +did not happen frequently, a voluptuous, wheedling warmth mounted up in +me, and gave me the wish, the hope--nay, the certainty--that I would +yet be able to triumph here. This magnificence of accessories, applied +with enthusiastic artistic purpose, seemed to me to be the zenith +of art, and I felt myself not in the least incapable of attaining +this zenith. Moreover, I recollect that I was quite willing to find +inspiration in all phases of that artistic world which appeared to bear +in any way upon my aim; what was meretricious and unsubstantial was +concealed from my sight by a brilliancy of sensuous externals such as I +had never seen before.”[147] + +This mood, this striving after fame and splendour, was not, however, +destined to dominate the soul of the artist for any length of time, but +soon became transformed into a most profound contempt for this artistic +tendency. There arose in him an unspeakable yearning which he was +himself frequently unable to judge correctly. To this were added the +unfortunate material circumstances in which Wagner happened to be at +that time, which constrained him to grasp at the humblest means to gain +his livelihood. In order to be introduced by singers into the salons of +Paris, he composed several French romances, declared himself ready to +compose the music for a vulgar vaudeville for one of the theatres of +the boulevards, and finally had to occupy himself with the arrangement +of arias from “favourite operas” for the _cornet-à-piston_. In these +circumstances, the yearning in him assumed a more and more definite +shape; the artistic world with its brilliancy and glitter, as he now +saw it, and the great Parisian opera filled him with disgust and +aversion, and from this moment he longed to leave it all for a dimly +perceived ideal of intelligent affection. While in this state of mind, +the Flying Dutchman again occurred to him. In this mythical character’s +unspeakable longing for unselfish love, Wagner saw the reflected image +of his inmost soul. The “woman” after whom the Dutchman hankered, and +who unselfishly sacrificed herself for him, represented that ideal +human love of which the artist himself stood in need. “It was this +Flying Dutchman who so repeatedly and with such irresistible power of +attraction sprang up within me out of the quagmires and billows of my +life; it was the first national poem which made any deep impression on +my heart and urged me, as artist, to interpret and mould it into a work +of art.”[148] + +It was in this mood that the poem and music of the Flying Dutchman were +brought into being. Wagner compares the legend with that of Odysseus +longing for his domestic hearth, and of the Wandering Jew. But in the +case of the Dutchman, the woman he desired was no longer the actually +existing woman at home, but an ideal which did not yet exist but only +was perceived--the ideal of that human love which sought no recompense. +“The yearning of Odysseus for his home, hearth, and wife had, after +having been nurtured by the sufferings of the Wandering Jew into a +desire for death, been strengthened into the craving after something +new, unknown, not yet visibly present, but already felt.” + +Wagner fancied that he would be able to find the satisfaction of his +yearning in Germany rather than in Paris, and while he was busy with +the composition of the Flying Dutchman, the object for which he longed +assumed the shape of home--not the home, of course, that he had left, +but an ideal home, one still to be expected. “A delicate, longing +patriotism took possession of me, of whose existence I had hitherto +not had the slightest suspicion. This patriotism was free from all +political colouring, for even at that time I was well aware that +political Germany, as opposed in any way to political France, did not +possess for me the least power of attraction. It was the feeling of +homelessness in Paris that awakened in me the yearning for my German +home; this yearning, however, did not have a reference to anything that +I had known of old, which could be gained back, but to something felt +and desired, new and unknown, which I was to win for the first time, +and about which I only knew that I would certainly not find it here in +Paris. It was the yearning of my Flying Dutchman for the woman--not, as +I have said, Odysseus’s housewife, but the woman who brought salvation, +whose features did not occur to me in any definite shape, but who +merely hovered before my eyes as the incarnation of the female element. +And this element assumed the appearance of home--that is, of closest +companionship.” + +In the Flying Dutchman that artistic tendency had triumphed in Wagner +which corresponded with his true nature, and from this time forward +he remained true to it to the last. No longer were splendour and fame +the aims of his artistic creation; art became to him solely a means of +expression, a means of communicating his inmost feelings and moods, +and his only wish was to be understood--that is to say, to awaken by +his art in others the same sensations to which it owed its origin. +It was no longer his aim to gain admiration and create astonishment. +“One thing kept me up--my art, which was for me a means not for the +acquisition of fame and money, but for the communication of my views to +sensitive hearts.”[149] All his artistic creations were henceforth, +as it were, the mirror of his soul; his art was the proclaimer of his +inmost sensations. + +Just as we perceived in the case of the objective poet, Shakespeare, +two easily distinguishable factors in the artist and his work, so we +saw in every line of the subjective Goethe the poet himself in his +most intimate personality. As I have already said in another place, we +could not for this reason love Goethe’s poems without also esteeming in +them the personality of the poet, for poet and artistic work are there +blended into one indissoluble whole. From this point of view alone was +Goethe able to comprehend art, and he therefore said: “One must be +something in order to make something. It is the personal character of +the writer which makes him important in the eyes of the public, and not +the products of his talent.” + +Wagner had the same experience in this regard as Goethe; he also is a +subjective artist who can not be separated from his art; every one of +his artistic creations also forms “a fragment of a great confession.” +His art forms a portion of his personality, and is therefore no more +separable from him than speech is from man. He could therefore hope +to be understood only where people felt and experienced with him, not +merely where they were ready to consider a work of art in an objective +manner. They must be able to penetrate with fullest sympathy into +his personal sensations and moods. Wagner therefore says: “As such +[that is to say, as his friends, by whom alone he could hope to be +understood] I can not, however, regard those who pretend to love me +as an artist and yet think it right to deny me their sympathy as a +man. If the separation of the artist from the man is something just +as unthinkable as the divorce of the soul from the body, and if it is +established that an artist can never be loved, that his art can never +be comprehended unless he be also (at all events, unconsciously and +involuntarily) loved as a man, and unless his life also be understood +along with his art, so much the less, as things are at the present +day, and considering the despicably bad condition of our public +artistic conditions, can an artist of my tendency be loved, and his +art consequently be under, stood, unless this understanding and that +possible love be founded before everything upon sympathy--that is to +say, upon compassion and fellow-feeling with the most human part of +his life.”[150] Wagner was perfectly right in this, though only with +reference to “an artist of his tendency,” and he agrees in this opinion +with Goethe; but we have seen that there is also an objective art to +which this opinion would not apply. Wagner, however, from his point of +view, could not come to any other judgment; he felt that he could only +be understood in those cases in which people felt and experienced with +him. His art appealed not to the intellect, but to the feelings. “The +artist appeals to the feelings and not to the intellect; if an answer +is given him from the side of the intellect, it may be said that he +has not been understood, and the criticism amounts in truth to nothing +else than the confession of a lack of understanding of the work of art, +which can only be understood with the feelings.”[151] + +Wagner saw, as Goethe expressed it, “the general in the particular,” +and it was in this that his artistic gifts lay. In giving artistic +expression to his own aspirations he unconsciously touched the feelings +of humanity. He felt that he could only be understood by those who +could feel artistically with him, “who happened to be in a more or less +similar position with the artist, developed under similar conditions +of life, and who could sympathize with him from the bottom of their +nature and heart, so that they were, under certain circumstances, in +a position to assume his view as their own, and were able to take the +required intense interest in the effort to give them expression.” + +With a view to giving artistic expression to his feelings, Wagner felt +himself drawn toward a form of art which permitted him to appeal in the +most unlimited manner possible to the receptive sensations, and this +form of art was the musical drama. Of course this form of art had to be +very different from the opera which had existed up to this time, so as +to be in conformity with the difference between their respective aims. +The aim of the opera of that day was the satisfaction of the prevailing +artistic taste of an unintelligent mob, the satisfaction of a longing +for diversion and amusement. The opera had to do justice to all these +requirements. The dominating factor of the opera was the music, to +which everything else was subordinate. To create “fine melodies” was +the duty of the composer; the libretto was a secondary consideration, +and sound and word had no intimate connection with each other. There +was no desire for anything like “sense” in a libretto; the words were +always merely the handmaids of the music, to suit which they were +put together. Just in the same way as the poet was, so to speak, the +train-bearer of the musician, the musician became the slave of the +interpreter. Airs and duets were composed in order to give the singers +the opportunity of displaying their artistic skill; composers had no +hesitation in writing for particular singers, and in letting them +prescribe the nature of their work, in order to attain as “powerful an +effect” as possible. + +Between productions of this kind and a form of art whose single aim +it was to give expression to the emotions and feelings of the artist, +there must naturally be a fundamental distinction. In Wagner’s eyes +music was nothing further than a means of expression which in a +co-ordinate manner stood opposed to the other factors of the work as +a whole, of the drama. The meaning of the music begins at the point +where that of the words no longer suffices. Temperaments and passions +may be described in every case by the spoken words, but they can not +be immediately brought to expression. Music, on the other hand, is +the immediate proclaimer of the sensations; the words appeal to the +intellect, the music appeals to the feelings. + +Wagner felt very well that he had begun his true artistic career with +the Flying Dutchman. “At that point my career as a poet begins where +I left that of a composer of librettos.” His works of art originated +thereafter no longer in reflection, but in the impulse to communicate +moods that were present in him. “My treatment was new; it was suggested +to me out of my inmost mood, and forced upon me by the impulse to +communicate this mood. In order to deliver myself of what was in +me--that is to say, in order to obey the inward pressure to communicate +with persons feeling like me--I had as an artist to enter upon a path +that had certainly not been suggested to me by outward experience, +and that which impels a man hereto is necessity, a deeply felt, +constraining necessity, though one not known to the practical mind.” + +The Flying Dutchman was finished. The indefinite yearning of the artist +assumed a more and more tangible form in the longing for home: + + ’Tis strange, methinks, to give its name + To every land to which I roam; + But not to find that dearest land + For which I burn--the land called home.[152] + +It was in this state of mind that Wagner left Paris in the spring of +1842. Meanwhile his Rienzi had been accepted for the court theatre at +Dresden; the Flying Dutchman was to be produced at Berlin; the future +smiled upon the artist with rosy serenity, and with happy, joyous +heart he set out for home. “For the first time I saw the Rhine, and +with bright tears in my eyes I, poor artist that I was, swore eternal +fidelity to my German Fatherland.”[153] In due course he reached +Dresden, where he was received with love and sympathy. Rienzi was +produced and proved a brilliant triumph. “After a long struggle amid +paltry circumstances,” so Wagner writes, “after hard-fought battles, +sufferings, and condemnation amid the loveless Parisian artistic and +social life, I quickly found myself in surroundings that acknowledged +me, helped me, and frequently met me in the most affectionate spirit.” + +Wagner had already been for some time acquainted with the legend of +Tannhäuser through an old book of folk-tales. On the journey from Paris +to Dresden he visited the Wartburg for the first time, and it was in +this way that this legend, which in the book in question was loosely +connected with the singers’ war, came once more clearly before his +eyes. But in Dresden, where he again took part in the outward pomp +of modern artistic life, this impression gradually faded away. The +extraordinary success of his Rienzi, the veneration and admiration +which fell to his lot, deceived him once again with respect to the +condition of art as it really existed, and caused him to regard it in +an idealistic light. The post of director of the royal opera at Dresden +having at this time been offered to him, it became perfectly clear to +him that the public life of art did not imply any true art such as he +had learned to know it, but only a “self-interest which adorned itself +with an artistic appearance.” But the brilliancy of such a post in the +eyes of others blinded him also, and he became director of the royal +opera. + +The production of the Flying Dutchman at Berlin had come to naught; +but, in consequence of the great success which had attended Rienzi, +the director of the court theatre of Dresden decided to have the +Flying Dutchman also produced. The opera was quickly rehearsed under +Wagner’s own direction, but fell entirely flat. The public had expected +something like Rienzi, but this “new tendency” left it perfectly cold +and unsympathetic. His Rienzi was repeated with so much the more +enthusiasm, and it must have been clear to Wagner which path he ought +to tread if he wished to make sure of fame and fortune. Once more +the temptation came to him to be untrue to his real artistic nature. +“The sensuous, luxurious mood,” so he writes, “which had come upon me +by virtue of the complete change in my external circumstances, and +in consequence of the first enjoyment of an assured position, but +especially also of a certain amount of affection and admiration on the +part of the public, became intensified into a pleasurable self-content, +and soon led me more and more deeply into a misunderstanding and +misuse of my true nature as it had hitherto developed itself, with its +necessary consequences.”[154] + +Once again the impulse came to Wagner to write a great, brilliant opera +in the style of Rienzi, and he therefore took up a scheme which had +already been sketched out at an earlier period, an historical opera in +five acts--The Saracens--of which Manfred, son of the Emperor Frederick +II, was the hero. But this artistic tendency, which was merely +calculated for splendour and effect and was repugnant to his whole +nature, was bound very soon to fill him with aversion and disgust. He +himself describes this internal struggle: “An impulse, such as in every +person impels toward the immediate present, now determined me, in my +special circumstances as an artist, to a tendency which was bound again +very soon and violently to disgust me. This impulse would only have +been appeased in life if I had also sought as an artist to aspire to +brilliancy and profit by a perfect subordination of my true nature to +the demands of the public taste. I would have had to sacrifice myself +to fashion and to playing upon the public’s taste, and here, at this +point, it was clear to my feeling that in actually entering upon this +tendency I would have to come to naught from sheer disgust.” + +In this state of mind Tannhäuser again presented himself to Wagner’s +soul, in his longing henceforth to get out of the world of sensuality +and pleasure: + + There’s more than joy affects my heart, + ’Midst my delight I seek for smart; + Far from thy realm I must me hie, + O Queen! O Goddess! Let me fly![155] + +He turned from this artistic tendency with aversion, and became filled +with a mighty yearning after satisfaction in a higher, nobler element, +which, in antithesis to the sensual world of enjoyment that was about +him and that strove for fame and splendour, must appear to him like a +“pure, chaste, maidenly, unapproachable and intangible loving being.” +“How,” thus proceeds Wagner, “could this yearning for love, the noblest +sensation which, taking into consideration my nature, I could feel, be +anything but the craving after emancipation from the earthly present, +after rebirth into an element of infinite love, such as is not to be +found on earth, but seemed only attainable by death?” + +In this internal struggle his true artist nature had once again come +off victorious. Wagner had on many occasions called music his “good +angel”; now he was freed by it through the irresistible impulse to +truer, more unselfish devotion, from the sensuous striving after +external splendour and fame. A sublime, unattainable ideal of the most +unselfish sacrifice, only tangible in death, hovered before him in +the form of a pure, chaste maiden, and within him sounded the words of +redemption: + + An angel prayed for thee on earth-- + All blissful did she soar o’er thee: + Elizabeth![156] + +This was the state of mind to which Tannhäuser owed its origin. How +painfully must it have affected Wagner to be so entirely misunderstood +in his intentions and efforts! He himself says: “How silly must those +critics appear to me who have become ingenious under the influence +of modern loose living, when they try to impute to my Tannhäuser a +specifically Christian, impotently heavenward tendency!”[157] + +The figure of Tannhäuser had sprung from his inmost soul; in it his +true feelings and sensations found artistic incorporation. He now +found himself again on the path of the only art which was capable of +satisfying him, yet felt that here he must always deny himself fame and +splendour. But he shunned neither struggle nor conflict; the freedom +of his artistic creation was of more value to him than the sensual +pleasures which had surrounded him. + + Nay, I must off the earth to see, + With thee I can a slave but be; + For liberty I still do crave, + For full free liberty I rave; + To toil and strife I must be near, + Though ’tis to die and disappear; + So from thy realm I must me hie-- + O Queen! O Goddess! Let me fly![158] + +Well did he know what a thorny path he would henceforth have to +traverse, for he says: “In writing this work I signed my own death +warrant. No longer could I now hope for aught from the modern world of +art.” Fully did he feel the curse of Venus: + + Thy shame will then dishonour breed; + Expelled and cursed, taunts follow thee; + Crushed and oppressed I see thee come, + Thy dishonoured head with dust defiled.[159] + +Nevertheless, bravely and unhesitatingly he went forward upon the only +path that was possible for him. + +He felt that on this path he would alienate the public and many friends +who had hitherto honoured him; he knew that he would not be able to +offer an adequate substitute for the amusing and pleasure-giving +popular opera of the day; he recognised that his works were entirely +unfitted for the artistic stage as it then was. Thus he says: “A piece +that is likely to draw good houses, that is likely to be produced +before the public for a lengthy period, or perhaps always, alternated +with other pieces like it, ought not to be derived from any mood, +nor to require for its understanding any particular mood. For this +purpose productions must be taken that are either based on no mood in +particular, or even on no mood at all, and therefore do not aim to +appeal to a particular mood in the public. They should furnish, by the +splendour of representation, and through the sympathy felt for the +performers, a light form of entertainment.” + +The directory of the court theatre at Dresden decided upon a +production of Tannhäuser, which by this time had been finished. The +opera was lavishly mounted, and--met with the same fate as the Flying +Dutchman. The public was once more disappointed in its expectations, +and did not hesitate to make known its extreme dissatisfaction. + +Wagner was overpowered by a feeling of utter isolation. He had, indeed, +found the means of giving artistic form and expression to his feelings; +he now possessed, indeed, a language by which he could communicate his +sensations, but there was no one who understood this language, who +shared his sensations, who felt and experienced with him. “I had now +become conscious of my perfect isolation as an artistic person to such +an extent that it was only from this very feeling of isolation that +I could draw the impulse and strength to endeavor to speak to those +around me.”[160] + +While in this state of mind there occurred to his fantasy a legend +which he had already studied in connection with the Tannhäuser +saga--that of Lohengrin. In Tannhäuser, Wagner had swung himself free +from a world of sensuality, of outward brilliancy and vain aspiration; +he had succeeded in soaring aloft to the desired height of purity +and chastity. He had escaped from the world of weak indulgence to +the lonely height of noblest renunciation. But on this height an +inexpressible yearning filled him to get away from this sunlike +brilliancy of chastest purity to the refreshing warmth of life, to the +complete surrender of unselfish love. He yearned, not to get back to +the life which he had left, but to be in a new ideal life which he had +not yet known. “From this height my longing looks perceived--woman, the +woman for whom the Flying Dutchman yearned from the ocean depth of his +misery; the woman who like a star of heaven directed Tannhäuser from +the dens of sensuality of the Venusberg to the way upward, and who now +drew Lohengrin down from sunny heights to the cherishing bosom of the +earth.” + +Lohengrin did not wish to be looked up to and admired by the woman whom +he went to seek, for whose deliverance he had been sent; he wished to +be loved by her. This love was not to consist of a trembling adoration +of a higher being, but was to be experienced in the inmost heart; it +was to rest upon a truer, more intelligent devotion. For this it was +necessary that Lohengrin should conceal his higher origin. For himself +alone was Elsa to love him; nor must she ask who he was or whence he +came: + + Ne’er venture to inquire, + Nor proof from me desire, + Whence I my journey trace, + And what’s my name and race![161] + +“Thus he desired the woman--thus the human heart.” Upon Elsa’s cry +for help, which echoed up from the midst of humanity to his dreary +isolation, he came to her aid, and saw in her the woman for whom he +craved. Confidingly she gave herself up to her brave hero: + + Take me! Hero, saviour mine! + All that I am deem thou as thine![162] + +But soon jealousy and envy set to work, and awaken doubt and suspicion +in the soul of the beloved woman. He perceives that she adores but does +not understand him. The confession of his origin is forced from him, +and he is compelled to return, crushed in spirit, to the dreariness of +his isolation. + +This is the story of Lohengrin, of which Wagner says: “In the +character and the plight of this Lohengrin I now recognise unmistakably +the symbol of the only tragic material, the only tragic element, in +fact, of modern life.”[163] + +He himself felt this tragedy in his inmost soul on the lonely height +upon which he stood, and where he was consumed by ardent longing. +“Here at last I hit the chief point of what is tragic in the situation +of the true artist toward the life of the present time--the same +situation, in truth, which received from me in Lohengrin its artistic +shape. The most necessary and most natural craving of such an artist +is, to be unreservedly accepted and understood by the feeling; and the +impossibility, caused by our modern artistic life, of finding this +feeling in such a state of ingenuousness and undoubting trust as he +asked--to be understood; the necessity of having to communicate himself +almost wholly to the critical understanding only, instead of to the +feelings--this is indeed the first tragical element of his situation. +As an artistic person I had to feel this, and it was destined to affect +me in the course of my further development to such a degree that I +finally broke out in open rebellion against the pressure of this +situation.”[164] + +Wagner describes how, during the elaboration of the material, the true +nature of Elsa came more and more clearly before his mind’s eye. He +saw in her not a woman filled with curiosity or jealousy, but “the +longed-for complement of Lohengrin,” which blended with him into one +whole, the “other part of his own nature.” “Elsa is the unconscious, +involuntary element in which the conscious, voluntary nature of +Lohengrin longs to dissolve itself.” The involuntary impulse, the +motive force of his own efforts and creations, Wagner recognised in +this Elsa, before whom “manly egoism even in its noblest shape had +effaced itself totally.” “Elsa, the woman--the woman whom hitherto +I had not understood, but whom now I knew--this most necessary +incarnation of the purest sentient involuntariness--has converted +me into a perfect revolutionist. She was the spirit of the people, +the spirit in which I as an artistic person also longed for my +freedom.”[165] + +The home that had been yearned for in the Flying Dutchman, Wagner had +failed to find. He felt a stranger and alone among those that did not +comprehend him. His ideal sense perceived everywhere the limitations +of the human mind by external circumstances, traditional usages, and +convention, and nowhere did he see that free man who stood high above +the trifling manœuvres of modern life, and for whom he craved with a +glowing desire. + +While in this state of mind he joined--I might say in an ingenuous +manner--the revolution, as he hoped to see his ideal realized thereby. +Thus he says: “From the degrading yoke of slavery, of general +handicraftship, with its pale soul of money, we will soar up to a +free artistic humanity with its bright universal soul; from wretched, +burdened day-labourers, we will all become beautiful, strong men, to +whom the world belongs as an eternal, inexhaustible source of highest +artistic enjoyment.”[166] + +His rebellion was not directed against a governing power but against +a culture that had gone astray; his wrath was not a political but a +purely human matter which had been developed by his individual artistic +nature. When he had to fly in consequence of his share in the uprising, +he said, therefore: “With nothing can I compare the agreeable sensation +which, after I had surmounted the first grievous impressions, pervaded +me when I felt myself free--free of the world’s tormenting, always +unfulfilled wishes, free from the relations in which these wishes had +been my only consuming nourishment! Since no consideration any longer +bound me, the outlaw and fugitive, to any falsehood of any kind +whatsoever; since I had thrown behind me every hope, every expectation +from this now triumphant world, and could publicly and openly shout to +it, with the most unconstrained candidness, that I, the artist, scorned +it from the very bottom of my heart--this world so hypocritical and +apprehensive of art and culture; since I could say to it that not a +drop of really artistic blood flowed in any part of its vital veins, +that it was incapable of pouring out a breath of human civilization, +a whiff of human beauty--I felt myself for the first time in my life +thoroughly and truly free, light, and happy, even though I might not +know where next day I should hide myself that I might breathe the air +of heaven.”[167] + +While Wagner’s artistic creations had hitherto sprung from one single +mood, one special situation in life, he was now impelled, as in the +course of time all his sensations and views had assumed a more and +more comprehensible form, to give to this inner life, these thoughts +and feelings, artistic form in a great work of art. To the idea which +chiefly filled him, the yearning after the free man who had raised +himself above culture and civilization, he had given expression +in his writings in the most various ways. Thus he says in Art and +Revolution:[168] “Nature, human nature, will lay down the law to the +two sisters--culture and civilization: So far as I am comprehended in +you, shall you live and bloom; so far as I am not in you, shall you die +and wither!” In another passage he says: “The real man will therefore +not come until his life is formed and governed according to true human +nature, and not by arbitrary political laws.”[169] In Art and Climate +he says: “There is no higher power than that of the communistic man; +there is nothing more lovable than communistic man. Only by the highest +power of love do we, however, attain to true freedom, for there is no +true freedom except that which is common to all men.”[170] + +At the time of the Revolution Wagner had already plunged into the study +of German mythology, by which he felt specially attracted. He says: +“In the effort to give artistic form to the desires of my heart, and +in the course of my earnest investigation as to what attracted me so +irresistibly to the original source of the legends, I advanced step +by step deeper into that antiquity where I was finally to find, to my +unutterable joy, and that, too, right in the highest antiquity, the +youthful, beautiful man in the strongest freshness of his power. My +studies in this way led me through the poems of the Middle Ages to the +very foundation of ancient German mythology; one vesture after the +other, which later poetry had thrown around it to its disfigurement, +I was able to sever from it so as finally to see it in its chastest +beauty. What I here saw was no longer the historical conventional +figure, whereof the vesture more than the real form must interest +us, but the real fundamental man, in whom I was able to recognise +every pulsation of the blood, every twitch of the strong muscles, in +unconfined freedom--in short, the true man.”[171] + +This “true, free man” it was who hovered before him as the ideal +after which he yearned. He was filled with an internal impulse to +the artistic realization of the “purely human being, free from all +conventionality.” In Siegfried he had found this ideal: “Elsa had +taught me to find this man; he was to me the manly incorporation of +the eternal involuntariness, of the doer of real deeds, of the human +being in the fulness of highest, most direct power, and most undoubted +worthiness of love.” + +If, in spite of Wagner’s unmistakable explanations, even his earlier +works were so entirely misunderstood, in which only single moods +were treated, how much more likely was his greatest work, into which +he entered with all his soul, in which he incorporated artistically +his view of the world, to give occasion to misunderstandings! If, +therefore, I discuss this work at greater length, I can only point in +excuse to the fact that, as we shall see later on, mistakes and false +conceptions have given rise to the most momentous results. Let us +therefore proceed to a consideration of the trilogy of the Ring of the +Nibelungs. + +The first scene of the Rhinegold shows us the three Daughters of the +Rhine in harmless, playful sport at the bottom of the river. Alberich +approaches them in a wild passion of sensual love. He tries to +overpower them. When one escapes him he pursues the others. It is all +the same to him which one he overtakes, and that one always appears to +him to be the most beautiful whom he happens to hold in his embrace. +In him we see the representative of that sensuality which forms the +antithesis to ideal, unselfish love. While he is thus engaged in +pursuing the Daughters of the Rhine, the gold glitters with a strong +light and delights with its splendour the Daughters of the Rhine, who +artlessly hail it. Alberich stands blinded in amazed embarrassment, and +listens to the proclaiming words of the Daughters of the Rhine: + + He gains the world + As his own inheritance, + Who from the Rhinegold + Creates the ring + Which measureless might doth bestow.[172] + +It is not in every one’s power, however, to accomplish this miracle: + + Only who Love’s might + Doth withstand, + Only who Love’s joys + Drives away, + None but he gets the secret power + The gold to force into a ring.[173] + +Now, what is the meaning of this ring, which thus bestows “measureless +might”--nay, the command of the world? In it we must see the sensuous +rendering of that world from which Tannhäuser yearned to escape, from +which he was saved by Elisabeth--the world of sensual enjoyment, the +striving after outward fame and splendour, the all-constraining, +world-ruling power of gold. That the love which he must renounce who +longed to forge this ring, is not sexual love, is indicated by the fact +that Alberich had a son, Hagen; it is, on the contrary, that ideal, +unselfish impulse, that self-sacrificing love--Elisabeth. + +The incarnation of sensuality, Alberich, cursed this love, stole the +gold, forged the ring, and won by its means that measureless might +which made him ruler of the world. Everybody had to create and work for +him; his insatiable cupidity craved ever new treasures and wealth; even +his own brother he held in a “degrading yoke of slavery,” and compelled +him to make that wonderful piece of work, the Tarnhelm.[174] + +After the ring and the hoard had been stolen from him, Alberich cursed +the gold: + + No joy shall please + Him who it holds; + Upon no favourite of fortune shall shine + Its brilliant light; + Who it doth own + Let care devour, + And who has it not, + Let envy gnaw! + All shall strive + For what it brings, + Yet none joy shall reap + Though it is used.[175] + +This curse weighed upon the gold from this time on, and brought death +and ruin on those who possessed it. + +The central figure of the whole action, in which all that is tragic +in the drama is realized, is the mighty form of the all-governing god +Wotan, the father of gods and men. Wagner writes in an article:[176] +“In my conception of the Ring of the Nibelung I had, unknown to +myself, confessed the truth relative to human affairs. Everything here +is thoroughly tragic, and the will which would form a world after +its wish, can finally attain nothing more satisfactory than its own +dignified destruction.” This will, bereft of freedom and conditioned +and bound down by circumstances, is Wotan. He feels the mighty power +within him, yet can not put it forth. He is bound by stipulations; he +must resist his desire. + +In contradistinction to him, the restless, forward-pressing will which +always strives after new aims while it denies itself, stands Erda, +the representative of intellectual knowledge. We meet her first in +Rhinegold, when Wotan deliberates as to whether he shall deliver up the +world-governing ring in order to recover the stolen Freia: + + How all was, I know, + How all is, + How all will be, + I see too: + Th’ eternal world + Ur-Wala, + Erda puts in your mind.[177] + +Erda, true knowledge, sleeps, and in her place watches Fricka, Wotan’s +spouse. In her we have to see the representative of right based upon +pure convention. She protects the right, not because of its intrinsic +value, or because she has recognised it as such, but because it exists +and is designated as right. She sticks to the letter, and law and +custom are the motives which alone determine her. The deeper emotions +of heart and feeling out of which true right proceeds are strange to +her; she is personified externality, purely arbitrary formality. + +The second scene of Rhinegold discloses to us Walhalla, the mighty burg +of the gods, raising heavenward its shining battlements. It signifies +the irresistible will power, the struggle for endless fame. Fricka is +anxious and terror-stricken at sight of the burg. As representative +of the law, of strict right, she first of all bethinks herself of the +bargain that has been made, and of the stipulated reward: + + Ready is the burg, + The pledge forfeited: + Dost thou forget what thou didst give?[178] + +To the restless, onward striving will the bargain suggests no cause for +anxiety. Wotan rejoices at the sight of the mighty citadel; he breaks +the concluded agreement by which he rules the world, but has to atone +for his guilt, since his will is fettered, bound by law and custom. + +To the giants who built the burg, Wotan had promised Freia as a reward. +Fasolt and Faffner now approach to claim their reward, the building of +the burg being completed. Freia is the refreshing ideal, that “artistic +humanity with its bright universal soul,” that love which Alberich +had cursed--the unselfish love of human being for human being. The +partaking of her apples, which she proffers to the gods, gives them +everlasting youthful energy. But if they are withheld from them they +shall wither in joyless, fameless old age. Wotan now recognises his +mistake in sacrificing Freia, and refuses the reward: “I will not sell +Freia.” + +While the giants persist in claiming the reward for which they had +bargained, Loge approaches, the representative of cunning, stratagem, +and untruth, who had advised the agreement. Very characteristic of the +signification of Freia and of the Rhinegold is Loge’s account of how he +sought to replace Freia and finally discovered the Rhinegold. + +Loge’s narrative arouses the cupidity of the giants. They are ready +to renounce Freia if the Rhinegold is given them in her stead. Very +characteristic of the difference between the Rhinegold and Freia is +the scene in which Fasolt and Faffner exchange her for the hoard. +Even the “awkward giants,” the “rude clowns,” the representatives +of the coarsest materialism, the rough-hewn opposites of delicate +feeling--even they will not sever themselves from the ravishing woman. + + To lose the woman, + Be sure, will grieve me sorely: + If then she from my sight must go, + The hoard of metal + Must so be heaped + That from my eyes + It wholly the fair one conceals![179] + +With gold he will bury the gentlest higher emotion of the heart: + + Alas, still shines + Her glance on me, + Her eye’s bright star + Still lights my way: + Through a small crevice + I must her spy!-- + Do I see the dear delicious eyes. + I can not leave this woman fair.[180] + +So soon as the giants have gained possession of the hoard, the +Tarnhelm, and the ring, the curse of Alberich becomes fulfilled. +Beset by jealousy and envy, they fall to quarreling, and Fasolt slays +Faffner, his own brother. While the possession of the gold aroused in +Alberich primarily lust of power, it manifests itself in Faffner’s +case as the mere naked desire for possession itself. He does not know +the value and the power of what he possesses; he finds delight merely +in the fact that he possesses it. Through dread that some of it may be +stolen from him, he drags his possession to a cavern, metamorphoses +himself by means of the Tarnhelm into a mighty dragon, and there looks +after his treasure in idle repose. “I lie and hold possession, let me +repose,” are Faffner’s words. If we look around us in our modern world +for Faffners, who seek to possess merely for the sake of possessing, it +will not prove a very difficult task for us to discover a whole series +of them. + +The second part of the drama, the Walkyry, represents the hot struggle +between Wotan, the mighty will which struggles for freedom, and Fricka, +the incarnation of inflexible law, convention, and custom. Wotan +recognises the bondage of his will, the impossibility of unfolding +himself freely and unhampered: + + I who by pact am a lord, + To the selfsame pact am now slave.[181] + +Eternal knowledge, Erda, had predicted his destruction, “an ignominious +end of the eternal.” He must fear Alberich. Should he ever be +successful in acquiring the ring, + + Then would Walhall be lost: + Who love did imprecate + He alone + With envy would use + The runes of the ring + Giving the noble + Infinite grief.[182] + +To defy the foe, to shield himself and Walhalla, Wotan sent out the +Walkyries to bring heroes, who should fight for him. The Walkyries, +Wotan’s daughters, formed a portion of his personality. They formed the +wish for liberty; they were hostile to Fricka--hostile to her right. +Their origin “in wild love” of itself denotes their opposition to +convention and custom. + +But Fricka still reigns. The Walkyries form only a part of Wotan; the +agreements that bind him they are unable to break. They, too, must +submit to Fricka’s will. + +Wotan is aware that only a free hero, one who starts up boldly and +unhampered, will be able to defy the foe. Through such a hero he had +hoped to attain what he wished. He betook himself to a noble stock +which itself had sprung from him--the Wälsung. He had thrust a sacred +sword into the trunk of an ash tree in such a way that only the +strongest hero should be able to withdraw it. Siegmund, the Wälsung, +the brave hero, he himself stimulated to the deed. Siegmund felt in +himself the impulse to freedom; unhampered did his defiant spirit +unfold itself. Then he found Sieglinde, his own sister, in the enemy’s +house, married without love, courted without affection by Hunding. The +deepest love was kindled in the young pair; custom and law failed to +separate them; they followed solely the true human feeling which moved +the inmost recesses of their hearts. + +How wrongly has this love between Siegmund and Sieglinde been +interpreted! After what has been said before, it requires no further +explanation that here, as in all of Wagner’s creations, love is merely +the symbolical expression of certain sensations; that it was in no +way Wagner’s purpose to glorify in this relationship the impulse of +sensual love or the like, but that the myth was only made use of in +an ingenious way to incorporate artistically that already discussed +antithesis, unfettered human freedom and right based upon custom and +convention. + +Fricka, the inflexible law which deviates not from the path of +tradition, the conventional form, the personified externality, is +horrified at this unequalled delinquency. Wotan, the will that strives +for freedom, can not see anything wrong, any misdeed in the act: + + What deed so bad + Have these twain done, + Whom spring united in love? + ’Twas affection’s charm + Enraptured them; + Why should I blame affection’s might?[183] + +Then he continues: + + Thou see’st but one thing, + I another see, + And the first is driven from my sight.[184] + +They are antagonistic principles--the right that is formed by virtue of +interest and convention, and the right that is based upon a truer, more +purely human experience. The sharply antagonistic elements which are +here dealt with, and are so sharply opposed, one might specially refer +to the moral sphere, and call illegal morality and legal immorality. + +Wotan then proceeds: + + Unholy + Deem I the oath + Which without love unites; + And of me in truth + Do not require + That by force I hold + What doth not cling to thee. + For where bold powers themselves array, + I must counsel open war.[185] + +Fricka knows full well that she must regard the strong, free hero as +her foe; that his triumph means her fall, her destruction, and she +therefore demands of Wotan that he will deny him his countenance. She +gains the day in this struggle with Wotan, and the latter is compelled +to resolve upon Siegmund’s end. He has to give up his own yearning; he +has to will against his wish: + + In my own fetters + Am I caught: + I, the least free of all![186] + +Such is Wotan’s plaint to Brünhilde, his and Erda’s daughter. + +In her, the daughter of Will and Knowledge, Wotan sees his own will, +formed through knowledge, whose free unfolding, however, he fears. + +Wotan recognises that in Siegmund he merely sees himself, his own +sword, his own energy, and he therefore determines upon Siegmund’s +death. + +Brünhilde, the daughter of Knowledge, knows that Sieglinde bears +already under her heart the greatest hero: + + Thy wife trust to me + On account of the pledge, + Which blissful from thee she received.[187] + +In her is kindled the struggle between Knowledge and Will; the latter +gets worsted, and she determines to save Siegmund against the will of +Wotan. The fettered will, Wotan, has to will against his own wish, +he has to destroy with his own hand Siegmund, whom he loves. Against +Wotan’s spear, marked with the runes of the contract, his sword breaks, +and Siegmund falls. + +Wotan’s wrath, however, is only greater, his passion more headstrong, +his fury more savage at the disobedience of Brünhilde; for he feels +only more deeply his own bondage, his own weakness and impotency. + +Thus Wotan casts off his child. But his heart is softened and appeased +by the prayers of the “brave, noble child.” He will not yield her up as +a prize “to the most cowardly man for an easy booty”: + + A true bridal fire + Shall burn now for thee, + As ne er hitherto for bride it has burned! + Let flaming glow + Warm the rock around; + With consuming terror + Let it cowards scare; + Let faint heart avoid + Brünhilde’s rock: + For one alone woos the bride, + Who is freer than I, the god![188] + +Brünhilde, Wotan’s glorious child, pure, unalloyed, genuine Knowledge, +is sunk in a deep sleep and awaits the strong, free hero, who, +uninfluenced by law and custom, free from human tradition, guided only +by internal impulse to eternal perception and true beauty, shall come +to awaken her. + +Wotan, however, the fettered will, the denial of the will to live, +resolves upon his end: + + Depart, then, + Imperious pride, + Of divine splendour + Braggart disgrace! + Break all together, + What I have built! + My work I renounce; + There’s but one thing still left: + The end---- + The end!--[189] + +At this point the tragic element of the drama reaches its climax; +“the will, which would form a world after its own wish,” finds a +fitting destruction. But the world of the artist could not at the +same time attain to a close. Borne on the wings of an artistic and +enthusiastic fantasy, the artist soars in majestic flight to a height +never foreseen. There he has seen it--the daring, free being “with the +bright universal soul”; he has felt it, felt it deeply. In it Wagner +saw the human ideal. It is the free, uninfluenced human being who acts +according to the circumstances of this world without being influenced +or impelled from without, whose actions are not conditioned by custom +and convention, but who strives after what is highest and noblest from +free inward stimulus. He only acts according to the dictates of his +pure discernment, his true knowledge, and his stronger will is able to +triumph over all the obstructions of the world. + +Wotan had longed for this hero when he said to Brünhilde: + + But one has the power. + Which I ne’er had: + A knight, whom to help + I never inclined; + Strange to the god, + Free from his grace, + Unconsciously, + Without command. + From his own need + With his own weapon + Performed the act, + Which I have to fear, + ’Gainst which I gave no warning. + My only wish e’en wished it.[190] + +Siegfried was the brave, happy hero, “the real original, human being +in whom every pulsation of the blood, every twitch of the energetic +muscles, was to be recognised in unconfined, fresh action”--the true, +free human being. The myth, which makes him one of twins, is here +symbolically and poetically turned to account; even his origin points +to absolute freedom from custom and convention. Siegfried instinctively +recognises in Mime the enemy, the traitor. In the latter we see +incorporated the lowest human passions--envy, jealousy, and crudest +egoism. + +For Siegfried, the strong youth, no glaive was destined, as had been +the father’s case. By his own strength he must form it, weld together +the strong pieces of the divine glaive. The free man who is independent +of conventional morality can, of course, know no fear. He alone has the +courage and strength and activity to mount to the most beautiful ideal, +to true human freedom. The forging of the sword is accomplished by +Siegfried after a fashion quite counter to custom and in violation of +every ancient rule of the craft, and his success greatly amazes Mime. +The character traits with whose representatives, Mime and Faffner, +we have made acquaintance, must disappear with the appearance of the +ideal free man. Hence, in the drama, both are destroyed by Siegfried. +With Nothung, the wonderful glaive, he slays the evil dragon before +the grudge hole (Neidhöhle). The hoard of the Niebelung, and with it +the Tarnhelm and the ring, now belong to Siegfried. He regards them, +however, as useless toys, and does not trouble himself about the +properties of that which he possesses: + + What use you are to me + I do not know.[191] + +The beautiful, strong, free man, who is artistically embodied in +Siegfried, seeks in his inner worth alone happiness and contentment, +not in the heaping up of external riches and goods. + +Siegfried now strides away to the mount that no craven can approach +without being consumed by the blazing fire. His actions are determined +solely by his own will, which strives continually after what is noble. +The restraint of compacts is foreign to him. He does not, therefore, +bow to the spear of Wotan marked with runes of compact, which is held +in his way, and against which the glaive of the father was shattered. +Wotan is not able to withstand his might; he shivers the holy spear +with Nothung, his glaive welded by his own strength. All hindrances, +even the ocean of fire, must yield to his power and his will. So the +hero, who “fears not the point of the spear,” advances, strides through +the fire, his strength quenching the flaming glow, and approaches +Brünhilde to awaken her from her long, inactive sleep. The beautiful, +strong, free man, whom the artist sees in radiant light, awakens the +world from long sleep. True knowledge, pure cognition awakens humanity +to holy bliss. In self-forgetting and self-surrendering love Brünhilde +demands of her lover that he leave her, and that he go out into the +wide world to perform new and lordly deeds. + +We now see the strong, free man in connection with the bad world, +surrounded by plots and jealousy, envy and malice. In Hagen we +recognise the representative of those properties for which Mime and +Alberich previously stood. He is the antithesis of Siegfried, and +his nature is shown by his descent. While Siegfried is the issue of a +fiery _liaison_ of love contrary to conventional law, Hagen, the son of +Alberich, owes his existence to a love bought with gold. Hagen says of +himself: + + My blood would spoil your drink; + It flows not genuine + And noble as yours, + Stubborn and cold + It curdles in me; + My cheek will not blush, + Wherefore I remain far + From the fiery bond.[192] + +Siegfried, in his intercourse with the bad world, acts solely in +conformity with his inner feelings. He believes everybody with whom +he comes into contact open and true like himself. Hence all distrust +is foreign to him, and he acts as the moment suggests. This is the +signification of the drink of forgetfulness. Such a naïve, trustful +behaviour must in the wicked world lead to ruin and destruction. +Reflection, cunning calculation, and accurate recognition of the +wickedness of others are the weapons necessary to self-assertion +in the world. Thus Siegfried falls a sacrifice to hate, cupidity, +and envy. He, to whom the slightest false motion of the heart is an +impossibility, and whose soul is of divine peerage and noblest purity, +becomes in the eyes of the world a criminal. He is accused of perjury, +adultery, fraud, and treason, and intrigue is able to prove its charges +and to require punishment therefor. But the true knowledge--the +knowledge which, standing without the world, is conditioned by +nothing--Brünhilde recognises the eternal and celestial faithfulness of +him she loves. + + Truer than he + Swore no man oath; + More loyally than he + Held no man his pacts; + Purer than he + Loved never another.[193] + +The ring, laden with the curse of the Nibelung, is restored by +Brünhilde to the daughters of the Rhine. The Walhalla, with the old +world of gods, collapses; but Brünhilde, in radiant accoutrement, bears +Siegfried on high upon Grane, the courageous steed. The strife for +outward glitter and display, for riches and possessions, ceases. The +world, which had been governed by a will bound down to conventional +ideas, collapses; and in its stead the true, free will, bound to +nothing, but associated with pure knowledge and true recognition, is +lord over all. + +No more than Wagner intended in his Tannhäuser to teach “a specifically +Christian, impotently heaven-expecting moral,” did he in Parsifal, his +last artistic creation, have specifically religious ideas in view. +Parsifal has rightly been called a continuation of the Nibelungen +trilogy. That free hero, who in the trilogy must be overthrown in +combating the wicked world, but whose final victory is there only +intimated, becomes in Parsifal the real saviour of humanity. + +The wardens of the Holy Grail--the sensuous emblem of the highest, +holiest good of humanity, the human ideal, the renunciation of the +sensual life, greedy for wealth, fame, and pleasure--were the knights +of the Grail, who in the holy grove in the Gralsburg, or Grail castle, +far from the ignoble impulses of the world, were dedicated to the +service of the Holy Grail. A pure cup of crystal containing the blood +of Christ was intrusted to the care of Amfortas, the king of the Grail +knights. Klingsor, the representative of the element hostile to the +ideal--that is, of selfishness and lust of power--himself aspired +to the possession of the Holy Grail, not on account of its ideal +graciousness, but from self-interest and cupidity. But it was granted +to the pure alone to find the path to the relic: + + Ye, who their service have attained to + By paths no sinners ever gained to, + Ye know ’tis but permitted + The pure to be admitted + ’Mid those the Grail’s divinely magic power + With strength for pious work doth dower.[194] + +Klingsor, conscious of his incapacity to become the master of sinful +temptations, mutilated himself and so sought to obtain the Grail: + + Unable in himself to stifle thoughts of evil, + Quickly turned he his guilty hand, + Resolved to gain the Grail’s command. + But scornfully was by its guardian spurned.[195] + +Repulsed by Amfortas, Klingsor built a mighty enchanted palace in the +neighbourhood of the Holy Grail castle, whither he knew how to decoy +the knights of the Grail, and they fell sacrifices to the seductions of +sensuality. + +It left Amfortas no peace. He himself sallied forth to fight the +wicked enemy and to free the knights from the danger, whereupon he +himself fell a victim to the seductions of the crafty one: + + While near the walls from us the king was taken, + A woman fair as sin has turned his brain; + He lay in transport her enfolding-- + The spear escaped his holding; + A deathly cry! I rushed anigh:-- + But laughing, Klingsor fled before, + The sacred spear with him he bore.[196] + +That holy spear, with which Amfortas might have conquered the enchanter +without trouble, had once shed the blood of Christ. The spear and that +holy vessel, the most precious possession of all, had been conveyed by +angels to Amfortas’s father, the pious Titurel. They were to be guarded +in the holy castle as the holiest of holies--the highest ideals of +humanity. Now Klingsor had succeeded in purloining the holy spear, and +with it had inflicted upon Amfortas a bad wound, which was never to be +healed: + + That wound it is, which none may make to close. + +Klingsor, being in possession of the mighty and holy weapon, hoped to +exterminate the entire race of knights, and to get the Holy Grail as +well. Sinful humanity, which found poetic shape in Kundry, is without +will power in the hands of the mighty Klingsor, in the grasp of +unconquerable passions. Kundry must do evil against her wish, against +her will. She certainly felt within her an impulse to unselfish +conduct, and sought in constant self-sacrifice to throw off the burden +of her selfish propensities; but, driven as by demoniac power, she is +not mistress of her will. When, struggling with herself, she cries out, +“I will not!” Klingsor answers: + + Well wilt thou, for thou must.[197] + +The sight of the Holy Grail gives rejuvenated life and renewed strength +to all that are noble and pure; but that which refreshes and quickens +others fills him who is condemned to guard it with ineffable agony. +The pains of the frightful wound are by the holy lustre exacerbated to +insufferable torments; the conscience laden with guilt can not bear the +contemplation of the highest ideal. In vain Amfortas seeks means for +the alleviation of his pain, for relief from his torments. There came +to him one comforting prophecy of the Grail: + + Before the plundered sanctuary + In pray’r impassioned lay Amfortas, + Imploring for a sign of safety; + Heavenly radiance from the Grail then floated, + A sacred phantom face + From lips divine did chase + These words, whose purport clearly could be noted: + “By pity lightened, + The guileless fool, + Waits for him + My chosen tool.”[198] + +The promised, long-desired redeeming hero, Parsifal, approached, “by +pity knowing, the pure fool.” Solitary, unskilled in arms, he was +attracted to the far desert. As Siegfried had made his glaive, so +had Parsifal himself made his bow. From his mother he went out into +the world, and fighting made his way. Parsifal naively asks: “They +threatened me; were they bad? Who is good?” He has not acquired the +knowledge of good and evil, he can only experience them in the depths +of his human soul, whence they can also resound pure and true, without +being changed by the prejudice of a conventional right. His knowledge +is neither erudite nor recondite, but results from the delicacy and +candour of sense and of sentiment. He approaches the castle and is +present when Amfortas uncovers the Holy Grail. He is deeply seized by +all the pains and torments of the king; except that of the torment of +guilt, which causes those sufferings, he as yet knows nothing. For +that reason Gurnemanz indignantly pushes the “fool” out of the door, +whereupon the latter wends his way to the enchanted palace of Klingsor. +He strikes back with strong arm the knights who oppose him; and the +enticements of the lovely maidens in the odorous flower garden fail to +captivate him. Kundry approaches in the magical beauty wherewith she +once seduced Amfortas himself, and tries under the ban of Klingsor all +her arts upon the lad. She tells him of his mother, how she has died +from love and care for him. Then occurs to him what he has undertaken +with his life thus far. In overpowering pain he sinks at the feet of +the seductive woman: + + Woe’s me! woe’s me! What did I? Where was I? + Mother! Sweetest, dearest mother! + Thy son, thy son must be thy murderer? + O fool! Weak and frivolous fool! + Where couldst thou have been, thus to forget her? + Thus--ah! thus to forget thee, + Faithful, fondest of mothers![199] + +Kundry essays in this way to force an entry to his heart: + + To thee now she sends + Benediction from above, + In this first kiss of love![200] + +But he starts up in horror, pressing his hand strongly against his +heart: + + Amfortas! + The spear wound! the spear wound! + In me I feel it burning.[201] + +Unspeakable sympathy with the torments of the king seizes him; he feels +the pains as though they were his own. By them he knows and recognises +the danger of seduction, which he stoutly withstands. The holy spear +which Klingsor seizes as a last recourse and hurls at him remains +hovering stationary over his head. Parsifal snatches it, and before the +sign of the cross Klingsor’s magical magnificence decays into nothing. +“By pity lightened, the guileless fool” approaches with the holy spear +to bring welfare and redemption. In the baptism of Kundry he purifies +the world, which lies in the bondage of sensual pleasure, and in +closing with the holy spear the wound of Amfortas, he frees the world +from the torment of conscious guilt. The ideal of humanity, the Holy +Grail, which was for a long time secluded, is unveiled anew, with its +radiant lustre reburnished, its glowing light imparting new life and +strength to its reanimated knights. + +In contrast to the “understanding that is due to fellow-feeling” stands +the schematic, conventional knowledge based on tradition, sprung from +no penetrating warm sympathy for humanity, but from the frigid letter +and egoistic calculation that strives after an endless accumulation +of stores of knowledge, losing sight of the end of wisdom, which is +the welfare of mankind. In Wagner, the assistant of Faust, Goethe +has scourged this aimless, egotistic, self-admiring knowledge, which +pursues no common human good: + + To study’s toil have I with zeal myself addressed. + I do know much: would I might know the rest! + +Faust, on the other hand, has come to see that true, serviceable +knowledge must owe its origin to sympathy with mankind. He says: + + My bosom, of the science-itch now cured, + Henceforth is closed to no pain that’s endured; + And what to all mankind is parcelled out + I wish with my own heart to know about, + The highest and the lowest Mine to keep, + Every man’s weal and woe upon Me heap, + My private self to Man’s great self expand, + Though I be wrecked, great Man to understand. + +With the exception of two, we have now briefly considered all of +Wagner’s music dramas. The two excepted are Die Meistersinger von +Nürnberg and Tristan und Isolde. In the former he has humorously +painted his own position in relation to modern art. The first idea +of the latter occurred to him during the musical composition of the +Nibelungen-Trilogy. It impelled him to paint in a drama of his own the +ideal unselfish love that he had studied in Siegfried and Brünhilde. + +Thus Wagner’s poems form a coherent chain, and each of them may +well be termed “a fragment of a great confession.” His moods and +sentiments, vehemently pressing toward artistic embodiment, formed the +spring from which his art productions sprang. Wagner repeatedly and +expressly declares that his art is merely the mirror of his feelings, +and must therefore be all but exclusively interpreted by heart and +sentiment. Hence we find in Wagner that refinement and elaboration of +the heart-life, those moods often inclining toward gloom, with which +we have been familiarized by the study of the subjective poets, and in +particular of Goethe. “Heaven-high exulting, to death cast down,” was +the temperament of Wagner likewise. How often he yearned after death, +and believed his only rescue was to be found in it! Wagner reminds +us of those tears that Goethe shed in reading Hermann und Dorothea, +when he tells us how often “in hot tears” he lamented the unavoidable +severance of Lohengrin from Elsa.[202] Art for Wagner was simply a +means of expression. It was his tongue, in which he endeavoured to +impart himself. Like Goethe, he laughed at the idea of being considered +the founder of a “new school,” or a “new departure,” or a “new aim.” +More than once he poked sarcastic fun at the new “tendency” that was +ascribed to him. In an essay on Opera-poetry, and in Particular on +Opera-composition,[203] he says: “Not so much the study of my works as +their success seems to have led many to follow my ‘tendency.’ What this +consists of has remained a mystery to me. Perhaps of a long-continued +preference for mediæval material. The Edda and the rude North, in +general, were regarded as mines of ‘good texts.’ But the choice and +character of the opera texts seem to be not the only important items +of the alleged ‘new departure’; much else enters into it, especially +‘_Durch Komponieren_,’ and above all the uninterrupted interposition +of the orchestra in the concerns of the singers, a practice which has +been followed the more liberally as a good deal of ‘departure’ has +arisen of late in the instrumentation, harmonization, and modulation of +orchestral compositions.” Interesting is Wagner’s own description[204] +of how music gradually became a mother tongue to him; of how, in +composing, it could not at all be his purpose to invent beautiful +and original melodies or harmonies, but how he simply expressed in +this tongue what he had to say in the only way in which it could be +expressed. The reader will recollect that, in the discussion of the +psychology of genius, I adduced a saying of Goethe in which he gives us +to understand how indispensable the gift of verse was to him, since he +was governed by such manifold feelings and moods and could only find +repose and satisfaction in giving them artistic shape. This impulse to +give artistic shape to his sentiments was felt by Wagner in the same +measure, but neither the nature of his art nor outward circumstances +enabled him so easily to see his artistic creations embodied as those +of the simple poet. A poem, even though its form be dramatic, is a +completed artistic work as soon as it is on paper; but a piece of +music, especially a musical drama, receives life and existence only +when it comes to be performed. Let an artist look upon his art not as +a means of gaining money and fame, but merely as a means of expressing +his sentiments, and if the means of imparting them be taken from him, +as was Wagner’s case, owing to every imaginable obstacle being put in +the way of the performance of his works, or, worse yet, and still more +discouraging, if his works are arbitrarily altered and cut, and, owing +to a defective understanding of them, performed quite disfigured, +so that what was originally intended and felt is quite lost, then +it will be quite psychologically conceivable that he should feel a +just resentment and aversion toward those who, partly from want of +understanding and partly from envy and ill will, deprive him of what to +ordinary men is one of the highest of possessions--human speech. + +In spite of all the obstacles placed in his path, Wagner did not let +himself be subjugated by pain, because art held him erect. When he +created his greatest work, the Ring of the Nibelungen, he did not +himself believe that he should ever live to see it performed. It +was not his purpose to gain fame and glory by it, but it afforded +him satisfaction to unburden himself, as it were, by the artistic +incorporation of his ideas, and at any rate to impart them to some +friends, or even only to one. In such mood he wrote to Liszt: +“What I am now creating shall never, or only under quite suitable +circumstances, enter into life. Upon that I will henceforth unite all +my force, and all my pride, and all my resignation. If I die before +these works have been performed, I bequeath them to you, and if you die +without their having attained a worthy performance, burn them. That is +settled.” + +The impulse to communicate, in some way or other, with wider circles, +as well as material need and cares, drove Wagner repeatedly into the +literary career. Here it is, from a psychological point of view, of +great interest for us to see how the artist fatigues himself in vain in +debating, from a purely theoretical standpoint, the ideas that filled +him, and how vainly he labours to make himself understood in a language +which is wholly incapable of expressing his meaning; for the only +language of artistic sentiment is art. Would Beethoven ever have been +able to express the sentiments of the heroic symphony in words? + +Whoever knows the writings of Wagner, especially his larger works on +Opera and Drama, The Art of the Future, etc., will be acquainted with +his inflated and often unintelligible style; will have been offended by +the many repetitions and apparent contradictions; and will, perhaps, +have had the feeling that what the writer wished to communicate has +actually been left unsaid. He did not consider himself by any means a +writer, but wrote with great reluctance, driven by necessity; and he +himself perfectly recognised the cause of his shortcomings. He knew +that what he had to say could be expressed in one language only--the +language of art. Wagner says: “Here again, and again and again, I have +only been able to express myself through the channel of writing. What +trouble this method of communication gives to me I need not assure +those who know me as an artist. They can see themselves by the style +of the literary works in which I torture myself to express what I +could so tersely, easily, and gracefully render in art, so soon as its +proper sensuous appearance stood as nearly in my power as its technical +notation with pen on paper. But so odious to me is the whole literary +business, and the necessity which has forced writing upon me, that I +would that with this communication I might appear for the last time as +a _littérateur_ before my friends.”[205] + +It is not my task here to inquire what the value of Wagner’s art may +be, nor what rank he is destined to take in the history of art. For us, +however, it is important to ascertain to what psychical processes his +works owe their origin, and what psychical processes they produce. + +The former question finds its solution in the foregoing considerations. +The latter is an affair of observation and experience. This observation +is, however, not always easy; it is sometimes decidedly difficult. The +success of a work of art, the applause or disapprobation of the public, +establishes but a very limited conclusion in regard to the mood called +forth by it. Too many deceptive factors enter into the phenomenon, +to permit us to trust to unconfirmed appearances. Experience teaches +that only posterity, which allows the work of art to produce its effect +unprejudiced and uninfluenced by personal considerations, is able to +decide the question of the psychical effect. Along with this question +posterity is judge of artistic value. Not theoretical reasons, not +rules and statutes secure to a work of art enduring life, but solely +its psychical effect. If the artist succeeds in exciting with his work +in posterity the intended mood, its value is fixed. If we wish to-day +to account to ourselves for the beauty of Beethoven’s music, we find +nothing more to say than that it is beautiful because we find it so. We +do not ask the why and wherefore, but surrender ourselves, as Lohengrin +desired Elsa to do, to love and pleasure, without inquiring for reasons. + +We are to-day the beginning of Wagner’s posterity. Now that the zealous +flame of fanatical Wagnerianism has died out, and--at any rate in the +younger generation--prejudices, personal motives, envy, and malice have +passed away, the moods and sentiments that Wagner’s music is able to +excite come out more clearly, and it is these alone which are to give +definitive judgment upon the value of this art. + +Wagner himself tells us how he gradually learned to handle his art as +his vernacular language, so as to communicate his sentiments without +impediment. The public, too, has gradually to learn the language of +the artist, and this it must do, not with the intellect, but with the +heart and sentiment. This circumstance explains many things which will +not escape the close external observer. Most persons who come to this +art unprejudiced declare that the first impression of a given work is +neutral or even repellent; but after frequent repetition the sentiment +becomes greatly augmented, reaching, it may be, to high enthusiasm. +But older persons, especially those who have grown up in another +definite art departure, can not readily habituate themselves to the +“new departure.” They are in the same situation in reference to it as +they would be toward a new language, as compared with young persons and +children. + +Wagner, in his earlier works, was, so far as outward form goes, +especially in a musical respect, very much under the influence of +the art impressions under which he had grown up. Gradually and +unconsciously his own temper gained greater and greater relative +emphasis, until at last he was altogether free from external influence, +and stood quite upon his own feet. But the further he departed from +the land of tradition, the harder it necessarily became for the public +to follow him and to learn the new language. Hence his earlier works, +in spite of the antagonisms and difficulties which even they had to +overcome, always had a better reception from the public, and were more +understood, than his later compositions. Down to Lohengrin he was at +all events followed; but his later works excited a veritable storm of +indignation and opposition. + +It is human nature to condemn whatever is not understood; and it is +only at a late hour, and very often not at all, that the question +occurs, Might not the cause of the want of understanding be our own +incapacity? Had Wagner lived five hundred years earlier, he might very +likely have been walled up alive or burned as bewitched. But in the +nineteenth century, such proceedings being no longer matters of regular +routine, the modern prescription for making everything clear that is +not understood was applied, and Wagner was declared to be insane. The +rubric was, “Tannhäuser and Lohengrin are very beautiful; but the later +operas are crazy.” Such was the language of the seventies. + +Of course, such a diagnosis of insanity, based solely upon the fact +that the subject had created works of art which were unintelligible to +the public, was not a professional one. Nevertheless, the universal +cry, “Wagner is insane!” was destined to penetrate professional +assemblies, until at last a “specialist in psychiatry” was found +who from a scientific standpoint sought to demonstrate Wagner’s +insanity according to all the rules of the art. This “specialist in +psychiatry,” to use the designation which he expressly assumed, was +Dr. Theodor Puschmann, who in the year 1873 published a work with +this design.[206] He says: “This pamphlet is not intended to lead up +to any preconceived doctrine. We are not allied to any party, and are +not ranged either among the adherents or the opponents of Richard +Wagner. We have never held any political or artistic relations with him +whatever, and consider ourselves therefore able to preserve the perfect +objectivity of our judgment, which is a prerequisite to all scientific +investigation.” This general proposition is quite unexceptionable; but +is it a fact that Puschmann displays such objectivity of judgment? Has +he limited himself to making out the psychical processes of Wagner’s +mind? Not at all. On the contrary, he judges of Wagner’s works in +a thoroughly subjective manner, as if he were the final court of +appeal; and then, because Wagner’s art finds no grace in his eyes, he +concludes that Wagner is insane. In short, his procedure differs in +but a single respect from that of a layman--namely, that he styles +himself a “specialist in psychiatry.” Thus he says: “Apart from some +reminiscences of an earlier period, his later works bear the stamp of +mental mediocrity, hurried imperfection, and a wild raggedness. The +Meistersinger, Tristan und Isolde, Rheingold, etc., do not in the least +attain that mental elevation, that inward nobility, which was effused +upon his earlier works. In both matter and form, in words and music, +they are unbeautiful, disjointed, and careless. The world has judged +them with a correct instinct. While Lohengrin and Tannhäuser have won +a place in the hearts of the people, his later works are already +buried before they have come to life.” Is this what Dr. Puschmann calls +“objectivity”? Is it the business of a “specialist in psychiatry” to +render such a judgment as this upon a work of art? + +In another place he says: “We have already mentioned above what poverty +of ideas, what increasing mental desolation, Wagner has shown of late +years. All that is beautiful and great in what he has ever accomplished +was devised and completed before he reached the age of fifty. Since +this time an impotent unproductivity has seized upon him. His genius +is extinct, and has given place to a lamentable emptiness of mind. His +wings are crippled; the heaven-storming genius has fallen from his +shining pinnacle, and, like a poor, sick, pitiful bird, chattering +senseless stuff not to be understood, picks up the dusty corns that he +and others once rejected.... The long-forgotten ideas of his youth, +fugitive sketches such as a gifted man often produces and as quickly +tosses into the waste-basket as useless, are now raked out and set +forth with a quantity of _baroque_ peculiarities in words and music +which snatch at originality. To these are added a brain-shattering +instrumentation and the most horrible dissonances; so that, as a +connoisseur says, ear nerves must be thick as cables to go through +such noise undamaged and sound. Along with this is the most unheard-of +prodigality of decoration and machinery, such as only the extravagant +fancy of a madman rioting in transcendentalism could imagine. And +all this Wagner, in his morbid delusion, declares to be such a work +of art as never was, and exacts of the world that it consider this +unnaturalness as genuine art, and insanity as genius.” I will not +“exact” of the respected reader to hear more of Puschmann’s criticisms. +I can only ask again, Is this the needful “objectivity” of the +“specialist in psychiatry”? Every layman must see that the diagnosis +of the mental condition of an artist has nothing to do with deciding +whether his works are “good” or “bad,” and that the sole business of +the psychiatrist is to ascertain the psychical processes by which those +works have been produced. Supposing that Dr. Puschmann really were the +court of last appeal in reference to the artistic value of Wagner’s +art, and the world had to submit to his judgment that the Meistersinger +and Tristan und Isolde contain nothing but “brain-shattering noise” and +“frightful dissonances,” would this be a reason for a real psychiatrist +to diagnose insanity? + +Puschmann says: “In Tristan und Isolde we find so many reminiscences +of Offenbach’s Belle Hélène that we might presume an affinity of +soul between the two authors.” Had Herr Puschmann been a “specialist +in psychiatry” in fact, and not merely upon the title-page of his +pamphlet, he would have had no difficulty in conceiving the distinction +between these two states of mind and soul. While we seek in vain in +Puschmann’s mode of passing judgment upon Wagner’s artistic creations +for his boasted “objectivity,” we find that quality still more +distinctly wanting in his mode of quoting Wagner’s writings and his +use of such quotations to support his assertions. Although he puts +the passages between quotation marks, implying that they are given +_verbatim et literatim_ and that their genuineness is guaranteed, +yet he alters both matter and form to suit himself. What is the +name of such a proceeding in plain English? And what becomes of the +“objectivity” of this “specialist in psychiatry”? Without going into +details here, I refer the reader upon this point to a publication which +gives the real and pretended passages from Wagner’s writings in deadly +parallels.[207] + +I do not unearth Puschmann’s pamphlet for the sake of refuting it, for +refuted it has been to satiety for twenty years. Besides, it refutes +itself by its contradictions and mendacities. But in considering the +question of how far a diagnosis of insanity can properly be based +upon a work of art, it lay in my way to show into what errors one +might thus be betrayed, and to give an example of how a psychiatrist +should not proceed. Puschmann collects a list of morbid symptoms +which Wagner is said to have suddenly manifested, such as delusion of +grandeur, delusion of persecution, moral insanity, and erotomania. +There really is no disease in which such an abundance of symptoms is +suddenly exhibited. But independently of that, the data upon which +Puschmann rests his “symptoms” are based upon falsehood and error. A +few examples may be given. Referring to the friendship between King +Ludwig and Wagner, Puschmann says: “The man who was so admired did not +use the power which a piece of good luck had afforded him to help his +fellow-men to do any good, or to produce anything great. He did not +justify the confidence of his royal patron, nor did he fulfil the hopes +which the world of art had built upon his gifted youth. Sunk in the +soft velvet of a palace _fauteuil_, he gave himself up to the enjoyment +of a torpid repose. He basked comfortably in the adulation which the +fame of his past procured for him, but created nothing more; at least, +nothing of importance after Lohengrin was worthy of a great master.” +This assertion needs no commentary. Whoever is tolerably familiar with +Wagner’s life and works must see its utter falsity. + +Wagner’s “delusion of grandeur” is described by Puschmann in the +following words: “Herr Wagner suffers from a self-conceit beyond all +bounds and measure, a vanity and self-boasting truly morbid, which +blind him to the merits of others, and allow him to regard himself +as the sole embodied ideal of the loftiest wisdom and ability. +The greatest masters of his art fade to nullity in his eyes; the +illustrious musicians Mozart, Gluck, and others have no importance, nor +title to mention in the history of culture, except in so far as they +may have served as his forerunners; and even the immortal Beethoven +is, at best, nothing more than an easel upon which can be displayed +the full-length portraiture of ‘the greatest master of all the ages,’ +Richard Wagner.” Whoever has even cast a glance into Wagner’s writings +must recognise the total falsity of this assertion. The masters +mentioned--Beethoven, Mozart, and Gluck--had no more glowing and +enthusiastic worshipper than Wagner. His candid veneration for them +found such oft-repeated expression in his writings that one is amazed +to find the very contrary opinion thus substituted for his. In Opera +und Drama we read as follows: “And here I indicate to you again the +masterly musician, in whom music was quite that which it is able to +be in man, when quite in the fulness of its essentiality it is music +and nothing else than music. Look at Mozart!” This is only one among +numberless examples. + +In another place Puschmann says: “But all this was not enough for +his insatiable ambition. The world must kneel suppliant at his feet, +and give him incense like a god.” These are empty phrases with no +basis of truth. This “specialist in psychiatry” rather incongruously +interchanges “ambition” and “delusion of grandeur.” But that is no +excuse for ascribing to Wagner motives from which he was unusually +exempt. Wagner did not wish to be “supplicated” or honoured as a +higher being; he only desired to be understood. For that his soul +thirsted--for understanding and sympathy. It would have sufficed to be +understood by some few friends; to the world at large he was entirely +indifferent. He wrote to Liszt: “I feel myself more than completely +recompensed for all my endeavours, for my operas, and for my art wars, +when I see what impression I have made by them upon you. To be thus +completely understood was my sole desire. To be understood is the +blissful satisfaction of my desire!” This longing to be understood is +so natural, and agrees so well with the psychological _cadre_ of the +artist, that the “specialist,” who should know how to enter into the +psychical processes of the artist, should certainly not take offence +thereat. Equally justifiable and psychologically motived are the +rancour and hatred of the artist for those who, partly from want of +intelligence and partly from personal resentment, envy, and ill will, +work to prevent his being understood. + +Wagner’s hatred for the Jews, which is set forth by Puschmann as a +“delusion of persecution,” rests simply upon the fact that Wagner saw +in the Jews, especially those whose endeavours are limited to material +gain, men who had renounced ideal love--in short, his Alberich. This +feeling had no affinity with modern anti-Semitism; for, as can be seen +in his letters to Liszt, along with “the Jews” he always named “the +Philistines,” as he called the Germans who slept away their lives in +slothful dreams, and were glad if people did not disturb them--in +short, the Faffners. To these two he often added the Jesuits. “Let us +flee from this world, where there are nothing but Jews, Philistines, +and Jesuits.” + +What Wagner longed for was the free, natural man, whose acts were not +determined by petty personal interests and lower impulses, and whose +life was not passed in thoughtless slumber--that is, Siegfried. There +is no delusion of persecution here; it is only the artist’s ideal. What +characterizes the delusion of persecution is the circumstance that the +patient everywhere scents persecutors, and in the most unreasonable +and typical way regards the benefits that people do him as hostile +persecutions. How grateful and happy, on the other hand, was Wagner if +he only saw that he was understood, or that anybody sympathized with +him! Thus he wrote to Liszt: “When I consider the numerous, extended, +and often very able papers which now proceed from Weimar, and contrast +them with the envious hostility which assaulted me, for example, in the +reviews of Dresden, and remember with what dire consistency they almost +effected a systematic embroiling of the public against me, Weimar seems +to me now as a blissful asylum in whose fresh air I can at last inhale +deeply and give my contracted heart room.” Nobody suffering from the +delusion of persecution writes in that strain. Such a person would have +found in the articles about Lohengrin some deep-laid plot. + +Wagner’s “hatred for the Jews” is marked only in a generalized and, I +might say, a symbolized sentiment. It never extended to individuals. In +his personal commerce with men he knew how strictly to individualize, +and was very far from converting his feeling into a principle. The +proof of this is, that he was on terms of friendship with many Jews. He +intrusted the leadership of his play at the opening of the theatre in +Bayreuth to a Jew, which he certainly would never have done if he had +been suffering under the delusion that he was persecuted by the Jews. + +Herr Puschmann further thinks that erotomania must be diagnosed from +Wagner’s poems: “His first great _opus_, Das Liebesverbot, glorifies +the triumph of free and open sensuality. Still, he there keeps within +the limits of decent respectability. But in his latest works the +erotic element is put into more undisguised prominence. In Tristan +und Isolde he glorifies ‘adultery,’ in the Walküre ‘incest.’” Whoever +has followed my account of Wagner’s poetry can judge for himself +whether Wagner intends therein to glorify adultery and incest. He will +perceive that in Wagner’s poems the woman never signifies the physical +woman, and that by love he never means sexual intercourse; that there +is merely an artistic embodiment of ideal sentiments, and that only +total misconstruction can lead to such conclusions as those of Herr +Puschmann. Whoever, in spite of all such commentaries, entertains the +slightest doubts upon this point may set them at rest by a passage in +a letter from Wagner to Liszt. Wagner sent his friend the score of +Siegfried after having concluded not to bring it out for a while, and +wrote: “I now impart to you readily and with good courage this poem, +for now you too no longer need to lift your eyes from it to consider +with careful glance your public. You have, for example, no longer any +need of anxiety as to what those people shall say of the ‘woman’ who, +when ‘woman’ is said, always think of their wives, or, if their power +of abstraction mounts so high, of some young lady or other.” + +Enough of Herr Puschmann! But let it be added that this pamphlet of +the “specialist in psychiatry,” though it made a sensation in its day +before the public, was never taken seriously in psychiatric circles, +but was always considered as a thoroughly amateurish production. Twenty +years have since elapsed. Wagnerian art has now spread over the whole +globe, and numbers its adherents by the hundreds of thousands. Recently +another specialist in nervous diseases, Herr Nordau, has made the +weighty discovery that Wagner was indeed deranged and a degenerate. The +whole of Puschmann’s nonsense, at which every rational psychiatrist +laughed twenty years ago, has been furbished up anew by Herr Nordau, +and put forth as the greatest wisdom, the newest acquisition of his +scientific investigations. + +For the unscientific pamphlet of Puschmann there is an excuse. At that +time, twenty years ago, although Wagner already had a great number of +warm adherents, Puschmann might still come to the conclusion that upon +matter-of-fact people Wagner’s music made an impression of absurdity; +that it was not capable of exciting an elevated feeling in anybody, +etc. In a word, he voiced the sentiments of the majority when he +assumed that Wagner’s productions were “_verrücktes Zeug_”--crazy +stuff. But things are different to-day. Understanding of Wagner’s art +is no longer so uncommon, and on every German opera stage Wagner’s +works take the lead. Not only in Germany has this success been +attained, but far beyond her borders, his renown has pressed. Even in +the New World, in far America, there are thousands of enthusiastic +Wagner lovers. How does Nordau get away from this fact? Very simply: he +says all the world is “crazy,” or, at any rate, “hysterical.” “Wagner’s +mighty influence on his contemporaries is to be explained neither +by his capacities as author and musician nor by any of his personal +qualities, ... but by the peculiarities in the life of the present +nervous temperament.... He had the good fortune to endure until the +general degeneration and hysteria were sufficiently advanced to supply +a rich and nutritious soil for his theories and his art.”[208] + +From this, one might think that it were time for publishing new +text-books of psychiatry and instructing students that there is only +one “normal man” in the world--to wit, Max Nordau. Everybody who +writes, composes, or paints anything that Max Nordau does not take +a fancy to, is degenerate; and everybody who likes anything that +Herr Nordau does not, is hysterical. So long as this platform is not +universally accepted in psychiatry, Herr Nordau can not expect to +find scientific support. But whoever stands upon the universal ground +of science must admit that Herr Nordau is a perfect amateur in the +department of psychiatry. I can hardly think that anybody, even a +layman in psychiatry, although he be an opponent of Wagner’s art, can +possibly assent to Herr Nordau’s opinions; yet for the sake of justice, +we had better enter upon a brief consideration of the main points of +his deductions. + +Nordau’s diagnosis is as follows: “Richard Wagner is himself alone +charged with a greater abundance of degeneration than all the +degenerates put together with whom we have hitherto become acquainted. +The stigmata of this morbid condition are united in him in the +most complete and most luxuriant development. He displays in the +general constitution of his mind the persecution mania, megalomania, +and mysticism; in his instincts vague philanthropy, anarchism, +a craving for revolt and contradiction; in his writings all the +signs of graphomania--namely, incoherence, fugitive ideation, and a +tendency to idiotic punning; and, as the groundwork of his being, the +characteristic emotionalism of a colour at once erotic and religiously +enthusiastic.”[209] + +Very indicative of Nordau’s dilettanteism is his incidental way +of throwing in the most important symptoms of developed insanity, +“delusion of persecution” and “delusion of grandeur.” As proof of the +first, he adduces quite briefly the trite stories about the Jews, which +I have already sufficiently considered. Of the latter he simply says: +“His megalomania is so well known through his writings, his verbal +utterances, and the whole course of his life, that a bare reference +to it is sufficient.”[210] Nordau evidently does not know what is +meant by a delusive idea; otherwise, he could not talk so innocently. +According to him, everybody who thinks he is persecuted has a “delusion +of persecution,” and everybody who thinks he can accomplish what nobody +else can has a “delusion of grandeur.” Supposing that Wagner had really +had the degree of self-conceit which is often attributed to him--which, +as I have already shown, is far from having been the case--supposing +it to be true that he believed himself to be the greatest musician of +all the ages, to conclude from this alone a delusion of grandeur would +be unwarranted in the extreme. Overestimation of self and the delusion +of grandeur are widely different things. One may, for instance, make +pretensions to being a thoroughly expert judge of all departments of +art and science--music, painting, philosophy, and what not--so much so +as to declare that every man who dissents from one’s pronouncements +ought to be cared for as insane; yet this does not amount to a delusion +of grandeur--in the psychiatric sense of the term. No such sign of +overrating himself was displayed by Wagner. He respected and honoured +the masters of his art as much as any of his contemporaries ever did. +Which one of the great masters of music was the greatest of all the +ages the psychiatrist, as such, is not competent to say. Whoever it may +have been was probably fully aware of it, and if he ever betrayed that +consciousness, it was not a mark of insanity. But how very far Wagner +was from overestimating himself is shown in his correspondence, which +demonstrates how little he was occupied with what he had attained, and +how entirely with what he had still to strive for. + +Just as any artist who leaves the well-trodden roads and breaks new +paths is exposed to every imaginable enmity and misunderstanding, +Wagner had to combat persecutions and hostilities, which, far from +being imaginary or delusive, were so real that it would have been folly +to blind himself to them; and nothing but a rare and precious firmness +of character, and an accurate appreciation of his own inward worth, +could have carried him through all his tribulations to his eventual +triumph. + + He left our ruts, + But went on steadily and without deviations. + +Only psychiatric amateurs--and not the most observant or wisest of +them either--can possibly mistake the self-consciousness that marks +the developed character for a “delusion of grandeur.” Stories about +boundless “vanity,” a passion for “divine veneration,” “incense,” and +so forth--easily picked up among the valets and secretaries of any +great man--have no foundation but arbitrary distortions or ignorance of +the facts. As I have already proved, Wagner asked as little from the +great public as did Goethe. In his creating alone, in his art itself, +he found satisfaction and contentment. “Believe me implicitly,” he +wrote to Liszt, “when I tell you that the only reason of my continuing +to live as long as I have done is the irresistible impulse to complete +a series of works of art which yet have the strength to live within +me. I accurately know that nothing but this creation and completion +gratifies me; and as for the performance of those works and the seeing +them from without, that I can dispense with well enough.” + +The remaining lucubrations of Nordau are limited almost exclusively +to a critique, such as it is, of Wagner’s works, and are shaped by +the principle that whatever Max Nordau does not like is the work of +an insane mind. Wagner’s theoretical writings, one and all, fail to +obtain Nordau’s favour; therefore Wagner is insane. That Wagner himself +recognised that what he had to say could not be expressed by words +alone, that he saw the inflation of his own style, that his different +writings were composed for special objects, and finally that Wagner, +with the greatest “reluctance” and only when “driven by need,” betook +himself to writing--all this has little power to bend the inflexible +critic. The long and short of it is that Wagner’s writings do not +please Nordau. Hence it appears that Wagner was a “graphomaniac.” The +trifling contradiction between a man’s being a “graphomaniac” and his +writing with “reluctance” and only when “driven by need,” is apparent. +Graphomania is pretty nearly the contrary of that. But what difference +does that make? One contradiction more or less is a trifle when one is +as well supplied with them as Herr Nordau. Here is a sample of Herr +Nordau’s manner of employing criticism: Concerning Wagner’s idea of +fusing the different arts into one great whole, the musical drama, +he says: “His art-work of the future is the art-work of times long +past. What he takes for evolution is a retrogression, and a return to +a primeval human--nay, to a pre-human [!] stage.” One wonders what +put this notion into Herr Nordau’s head. Does he really believe that +“pre-human” beings composed musical dramas? + +Wagner, in one of his articles, speaks repeatedly of the action of the +“head” in contradistinction to that of the “heart.” He calls speech +the language of the “head” and music that of the “heart.” “The organ +of the heart is music (_Ton_), and its artistically conscious language +is the art of music.” Every schoolboy can see what is meant. A form +of speech common to all ages and all nations denotes the conative +faculties by the term _heart_, as opposed to cold, calculating, +speculative understanding--the action of the brain. But Herr Nordau +feels himself called upon to challenge this figure of speech in the +following terms: “But as his mystically disposed brain was not capable +of clearly grasping the various parts of this intricate idea, and of +arranging them in parallel lines, he entangled himself in the absurdity +of an ‘activity of the brain without activity of the heart’; ... and +finally attains to the pure twaddle of calling ‘sound’ the ‘organ of +the heart.’”[211] + +We have already remarked that Nordau, in the department of psychiatry, +is a mere amateur; so that we must not expect any accurate application +of the concepts of the science in his writings. Yet, since he writes +upon the subject, it might have been hoped that he would tolerably +post himself in relation to it, and not publish things in the most +injudicious manner. Now, Herr Nordau assures us that in all Wagner’s +writings there is hardly a single page “which will not puzzle the +unbiassed reader, either through some nonsensical thought or some +impossible mode of expression”; whence one has a right to gather that +Nordau has read those writings. But if that be the fact, how was it +possible that he could totally mistake the purpose of Wagner’s art as +it is expressly and distinctly set forth in numerous places in his +writings? Wagner declares in so many words--not once, but often, very, +very often--that by the “woman” he never meant the physical, sexual +woman; that it gave him pain when anybody attributed a religious moral +to Tannhäuser, etc. But, notwithstanding these explicit declarations, +Herr Nordau sings again the long-worn-out song about the “shameless +sensuality,” and with a bombastic aping of that scientific jargon which +is defensible only so far as it insures precision of ideas, talks +of Wagner’s “erotomania.” Thus he says in one place: “It certainly +redounds to the high honour of German public morality that Wagner’s +operas could have been publicly performed without arousing the greatest +scandal. How unperverted must wives and maidens be when they are in +a state of mind to witness these pieces without blushing crimson and +sinking into the earth for shame! How innocent must even husbands and +fathers be who allow their womankind to go to these representations +of ‘lupanar’ incidents! Evidently the German audiences entertain +no misgivings concerning the actions and attitudes of Wagnerian +personages; they seem to have no suspicion of the emotions by which +they are excited, and what intentions their words, gestures, and +acts denote; and this explains the peaceful artlessness with which +these audiences follow theatrical scenes during which, among a less +childlike public, no one would dare lift his eyes to his neighbour or +endure his glance. With Wagner amorous excitement assumes the form +of mad delirium. The lovers in his pieces behave like tomcats gone +mad, rolling in contortions and convulsions over a root of valerian. +They reflect a state of mind in the poet which is well known to the +professional expert. It is a form of Sadism. It is the love of those +degenerates who, in sexual transport, become like wild beasts. Wagner +suffered from ‘erotic madness’ which leads coarse natures to murder for +lust, and inspires ‘higher degenerates’ with works like Die Walküre, +Siegfried, and Tristan und Isolde.”[212] + +While Nordau passes by the most important symptoms of insanity, “the +delusion of persecution” and “the delusion of grandeur,” with startling +levity, satisfying himself with mentioning that they are “known to +everybody,” he tarries to discuss with astonishing thoroughness the +erotic element. Let us here adduce only one or two passages: “Mysticism +is, as we know, always accompanied by eroticism, especially in the +degenerate, whose emotionalism has its chief source in morbidly excited +states of the sexual centres. Wagner’s imagination is perpetually +occupied with woman. But he never sees her relation to man in the form +of healthy and natural love, which is a benefit and satisfaction for +both lovers. As with all morbid erotics (we have already remarked this +in Verlaine and Tolstoi), woman presents herself to him as a terrible +force of Nature, of which man is the trembling, helpless victim. +The woman that he knows is the gruesome Astarte of the Semites, the +frightful man-eating Kali Bhagawati of the Hindoos, an apocalyptic +vision of smiling bloodthirstiness, of eternal perdition and infernal +torment, in demoniacally beautiful embodiment.... Wagner’s Elisabeth, +Elsa, Senta, and Gertrude are extremely instructive manifestations of +erotic mysticism, in which the half-unconscious idea is struggling for +form--viz., that the safety of the sexually crazy degenerate lies in +purity, continence, or in the possession of a wife having no sort of +individuality, no desire and no rights, and hence incapable of ever +proving dangerous to the man. In one of his first compositions, as +in his last, in Tannhäuser as in Parsifal, he treats of the combat +between the man and his corruptress, the fly _versus_ the spider, and +in this way testifies that for thirty-three years--from youth to old +age--the subject has never been absent from his mind.... Siegfried, +Götterdämmerung, Tristan und Isolde, are exact repetitions of the +essential content of the Walküre. It is always the dramatic embodiment +of the same obsession of the terrors of love.”[213] + +These passages may suffice. At best, they bespeak at once Nordau’s +total misunderstanding of Wagner’s artistic purpose, and his complete +dilettanteism in psychiatric matters. Of the former truth, scarcely +anybody who does not with might and main shut out the facts and is +not ignorant of Wagner’s own declarations, can be in doubt. Whoever +still insists, after the observations made above, that Wagner, in the +creation of his works of art, was thinking of the sensual, sexual +woman, simply will not understand; and there is no help for it. As to +the latter point, that a man who his whole life long never showed the +slightest indication of sexual anomalies, who lived in happy marriage +and was a tender husband and father, should be called an “erotomaniac” +solely because love is introduced into his dramas, and that “a morbid +state of excitation of his sexual centres” should be diagnosed, is the +grossest and sheerest nonsense that ever was. There is scarcely a poet +in the whole history of art whom one might not by the same token stamp +as an “erotomaniac.” + +Herr Nordau might by the same right just as well have diagnosed a +number of other symptoms from Wagner’s poems. Why, for example, does +the great musician not suffer from pyromania on the ground of the magic +fire in the Walküre? Why does Nordau not declare him a kleptomaniac, +in view of the numerous thefts in Rheingold? There would have been +quite as much sense in either diagnosis as in that of erotomania +from Tannhäuser. Perhaps Herr Nordau has overlooked these symptoms, +and perhaps he will do us the pleasure, in the next edition of his +Degeneration, of dishing these up as the latest achievements of his +scientific researches. + +Nordau has made the important discovery that Wagner was born to be a +painter, and only missed his vocation in consequence of his morbid +impulses. “Wagner is no comedian,” he says, “but a born painter. If +he had been a healthy genius, endowed with intellectual equilibrium, +that is what he would undoubtedly have become. His inner vision would +have forced the brush into his hand, and constrained him to realize it +on canvas, by means of colour.... He did not understand his natural +impulses. Perhaps, also, with the feeling of his own deep organic +feebleness, he dreaded the heavy labour of drawing and painting, and, +conformably with the law of least effort, his instinct sought vent +in the theatre, where his inner visions were embodied by others--the +decorative painters, machinists, and actors--without requiring him to +exert himself.” Did anybody ever hear more luxuriant nonsense? A man +who thinks the labour of painting too severe, takes up the musical +drama, composing himself both the verse and the music, and thus escapes +hard work! Is it possible to make a serious answer to such silly talk? + +Equally astounding is the self-complacency with which Nordau passes +judgment upon Wagner’s music. I, too, am of the opinion that the +judgment of art, especially of those arts which appeal to the sensitive +heart, is not only open to the theorizing professional, but that the +direct sentiment of the unprejudiced layman ought to be its touchstone. +Wagner himself gives expression to this thought in the Meistersinger, +where Hans Sachs says: + + Yet once a year I should think it wise + That the rules themselves should be tested + Whether in custom’s stupid rut + Your force and life ye were not losing: + Now whether ye of Nature + Be yet upon the right track + Can tell you only + He who knows nothing of tabulature.[214] + +But when a person who “knows nothing of the rules of the mastersingers” +declares both the judgment of an innumerable multitude of experienced +masters and the sentiment of hundreds of thousands to be “morbid,” +solely because he himself thinks and feels otherwise than they, he only +pronounces judgment upon himself. + +It is well known that Wagner revolutionized the form of opera music. +He banished the disconnected interpolated arias, put a stop to the +inartistic license of singers in the _recitativo_, introduced a +continuous music corresponding to the dramatical treatment and idea, +and endeavoured through this music to express that for which the spoken +word was inadequate. Of this innovation Nordau says: “It is a product +of degenerate thought; it is musical mysticism. It is the form in which +incapacity for attention shows itself in music.” After having, in the +remainder of his criticism, illuminated in a similar way the theory +of Wagner’s music, the _Leitmotive_, the “unending melody,” etc., +he reaches the conclusion that Wagner, “in the inmost depths of his +nature, and by virtue of his organic constitution, was not a musician, +but a confused mixture of a poet feeble in style and a painter +lazy of brush, with a Javanese ‘Gamelang’ accompaniment buzzing in +between.”[215] + +Concerning the theory of Wagner’s art, others may dispute with Nordau, +if it seems worth their while. But as to the psychiatric lucubrations +by which he reaches the conclusion that Wagner was insane and a +“degenerate,” I believe that I have characterized them sufficiently, +and that I may spare myself a more minute examination thereof. + + + + + CONCLUSION. + + +The idea of a universal sickening of the people, of a progressive +“degeneration” of the civilized nations, has not merely a few +defenders, such as those mentioned in this work. This departure of +modern science has found a multitude of adherents, and the advocates +of this doctrine have made the concept of degeneration a subject +of general popular interest. Beginning with this departure of +psychopathology, the doctrine of a gradual retrogression of mankind, +a deterioration, generation by generation, of the highly civilized +peoples, has extended more and more. Not only in certain professional +circles, but even in the educated lay world, we hear of a universal +derangement of the nervous system, of a widespread nervous prostration, +of mental and bodily deterioration of the present generation as +compared with our ancestors. + +Art and literature, which have ever expressed the metaphysics of the +period, and which consequently now correspond in form and meaning to +modern positivism, show of late a decided leaning toward the depicting +of degenerative defects of humanity, especially of insanity, as if they +were a characteristic of modern society. Although, from the time of +Homer to our own, insanity has never dropped from the list of subjects +for artistic and poetical treatment, yet each age has had its own +reasons for doing so, which have always been closely connected with +contemporary metaphysics. In the hallucinatory melancholia of Orestes, +Æschylus painted the rage of the Furies following and tormenting their +victim: “Behold them, like Gorgons clothed in black, surrounded by the +coils of many serpents.”[216] In Ajax Fureus, who, suddenly seized +with a somnambulic delirium, falls upon the herds of the Achæans and +strangles them with their herdsmen, believing that he is killing the +princes of the host, Sophocles exhibits the chastening hand of Athene, +against whom this bold mortal had once risen in audacious defiance. The +ancient poets thus painted mental derangements which obviously they had +observed, and painted them in the colouring of mythology, which was the +popular metaphysics of that age, as a dispensation of a higher power, a +punishment of the angry divinity. + +The multitudinous artistic representations of demoniac possession in +the Middle Ages, in myriads of paintings, frescoes, reliefs, carvings +in stone, wood, and ivory, bronzes, ironwork, goldsmith’s-work, etc., +the manifold scenes of conjurations and diabolic incitements, afford +a clear picture of the insanity of those times. According to Charcot +and Richer,[217] whom we have to thank for their thorough researches +in this field, the dislocations and distortions of those possessed are +quite typical of cases of disease that may be observed to-day. + +The first poet who recognised insanity as a disease and painted it as +such is Shakespeare, whose fine power of observation far outstripped +his age. He who could paint the world in all its truth and reality, +who was able to reproduce the most diverse characters, unfalsified and +true to Nature, succeeded also in painting in a masterly way mental +derangements in all their typical phenomena, just as we observe them +to-day, and this at a time at which science was far from a correct +recognition of psychical disorders. In Shakespeare, the derangements +of King Lear, Hamlet, and Lady Macbeth are photographic reproductions +of pure objective experience. They fill out certainly the world of the +poet who painted all human passions with minute fidelity in his plays, +and therefore undertook also to paint according to his observation the +human mind under morbid obscuration. In these characters, therefore, +we have neither the embodiment of any particular conception of the +universe nor an artistic dressing up of any moral or doctrine. + +It is very different with the portraiture of insanity in our modern +literature. The doctrine of psychiatry has in the interval grown into +a distinct branch of science, and the observation of the insane is +carried on in an exceedingly thorough and careful manner. In order +to paint a case of insanity according to Nature, an artist no longer +needs, like Shakespeare, to be leagues in advance of his age. He +only need copy a well-reported history of a case, and his purpose is +attained. Consequently the simple description of psychical disease no +longer comes within the domain of the poet; and if we leave out of view +those _littérateurs_ who have in the practice of their art followed +the desire for originality and sensational effects, we do not find in +modern literature insanity exhibited for the direct interest of it, but +only in so far as it affects individual social relations and society +collectively. + +The idea of a universal psychical degeneration, as it is put forth by +many psychiatrists, likewise has its literary defenders. I have already +called Zola a “Nordau in the shape of a novelist”; and this is also +true of other writers of similar theories. Frau Alving, in Ibsen’s +Ghosts, says: “We are all ghosts.... I can not take up a newspaper +without seeming to see the ghosts slinking between the lines. Ghosts +must live throughout the land. It seems to me they must be as the +sands of the sea.” We seem to be hearing Herr Nordau pronouncing +upon the immanent _Völkerdämmerung_, upon the gradual coming and +increasing of universal degeneration among mankind. Nordau considers +that those writers who share his own opinions show, precisely by that, +an infallible mark of their being fools and degenerates. His master, +Lombroso, on the other hand, acknowledges that Zola and Ibsen “teach +the same thing” that he himself teaches.[218] + +It is not Ibsen’s purpose to paint mental sickenings just as they +really are. They are the mere vehicles of his ideas, especially of +the law of heredity, of the influence of a licentious and dissolute +course of life upon the development of the next generation. Neither +the painting of the maladies nor the selection of those which are +represented as transmitted in procreation correspond to the real facts. +But the writer did not mind that. While Nordau makes this a grave +matter for reproach and even a ground for psychiatric inferences, +Lombroso expressly declares that it is not right to insist upon +scientific accuracy from a poet in his painting of insanity, but that +it is proper for him to proceed _cum grano salis_, so as to give +his idea an artistic embodiment. At any rate, the exhibition of the +clinical picture, as such, is in Ibsen altogether a secondary matter, +the purpose of the poetic use of nervous disorders being the moral. +Oswald, in Ghosts, is the victim of the dissipations of his father. Dr. +Rank, in Nora, says: “My poor innocent spine has to expiate the joyous +lieutenant’s life of my father.” He strongly accentuates the moral: +“And so such an inexorable retribution governs in one way or another +every family.” We thus meet in the poet the same idea that Nordau +proclaims--that of a widespread hereditary sickening--a universal +degeneration. + +The circumstance that Ibsen makes a quite arbitrary choice of diseases +to exhibit his concept of heredity and degeneration is not surprising, +and as poet he can the less be reproached for it that he follows +in that respect the doctrines of one school of scientific men. We +may smile at Ibsen’s representing, in Ghosts, general paresis as an +hereditary infliction; in Nora, a disease of the spine, _tabes_; in +The Wild Duck, a disease of the eyes; but, after all, this entirely +agrees with a certain departure which has lately found place in +psychopathology. + +The widespread idea of a universal “degeneration” is in great part due +to the belief that every mental disease and most nervous sufferings +are phenomena of “degeneration”--a belief which is not only general +among the laity, but to which many psychiatrists incline. At any +rate, they place psychoses in that category which do not belong there +at all. It would result from this opinion that any decided increase +in the frequency of insanity, disproportionate to the growth of the +population, must be a “degeneration,” since, according to them, almost +all mental diseases are consequences of the process by which a state of +“degeneration” is brought about. + +The concept of “degeneration” is, as I have already explained, that +of a morbid condition resulting from perturbations of growth of the +psychical organ. Degenerates are at a low stage of development; the +organic vehicles of their mental action are either merely at that +low stage of growth or are deformed and misshapen. The degeneration +of a whole people would therefore be due to a universal mental +deterioration, an arrest of the psychical organ, and at last, +since the completely degenerate, the extreme idiots, are incapable +of procreation, if the process which gave rise to the state of +degeneration progressed still further, the race would die out. But +the history of insanity shows that the increase of it depends in part +upon the progress of higher civilization. A heightened mental action, +a refinement and elaboration of the psychical organism, has for a +consequence a greater disposition to mental derangements. But to +infer from this heightened mental action, or, what comes to the same +thing, from the increased number of cases of derangement which results +from it, that there has been a universal retrogression of mental +development, resulting in a “degeneration” of the masses, is just as +erroneous as to identify the highest refinement and elaboration of the +psychical organism, or genius, with insanity. + +The question of a state of universal degeneration, resulting from a +process of mental decay, must therefore be treated quite independently +from the question of an increase of cases of insanity. Maladies +contracted late in life can not be ascribed to disturbances of growth, +and have nothing to do with degeneration. When Nordau avers that the +diagnosis of degeneration in Baudelaire was “fortified against all +attack” by the fact that he “died of general paresis,”[219] he simply +shows that he does not know what the word degeneration means. Paresis +is a disease occurring most frequently in fully developed men, seldom +in degenerates, and never in idiots. Von Krafft-Ebing[220] says of +its procatarctic cause, “It is seldom congenital, hereditary; mostly +acquired.” If, therefore, we limit the concept of degeneration to +such morbid states as can undoubtedly be referred to perturbations of +growth, an increase of mental diseases does not indicate a progressive +degeneration. + +The universal opinion that the sudden revolution in all modes of +life, owing to the great inventions of this century--the railway, +the telephone, etc.--have had a bad influence on the nervous system, +has a certain amount of justification. A number of cases of nervous +exhaustion have arisen owing to this unwonted and overstrained bustle +of modern life. But the importance attributed to these outward causes +is too great by far; and there is especially too much inclination +to exaggerate the sudden change of our modes of life, great as it +undeniably is. From some descriptions of it, one might think that +we had suddenly been carried from the merest sluggard’s life to the +supreme development of higher civilization. When Nordau says that +“the humblest village inhabitant has to-day a wider geographical +horizon, more numerous and complex intellectual interests, than the +prime minister of a petty or even a second-rate state a century +ago,” and that to-day “a cook receives and sends more letters than +a university professor did formerly,”[221] he simply indulges in +ridiculous exaggeration. I know not what intricate mental interests +Herr Nordau has discovered in the “humblest village inhabitant.” When +he tries to prove this by saying that the villager “interests himself +simultaneously in the issue of a revolution in Chili, in a bush war in +east Africa, a massacre in north China, a famine in Russia, a street +row in Spain, and an international exhibition in North America,”[222] +he perhaps overestimates somewhat the mental interests of the “humblest +village inhabitant.” I fancy that the mental interests of the peasantry +to-day, as centuries ago, turn much more on the thriving of their pigs +and calves than on revolutionists in Chili or bushwhackers in east +Africa. At any rate, we may safely assert that the German peasants +are in no present danger of overtaxing their nervous systems by their +“numerous and complex intellectual interests.” + +We must confess that life to-day makes higher demands upon the +individual than in the last century; but it is an exaggeration +for Nordau to maintain that every single man does from five to +five-and-twenty times as much work as he would have done half a century +ago. On the whole, more is accomplished now than used to be done, +because, thanks to the great inventions, a workman can now do more in +one hour than ten workmen could do in a whole day a century ago. But +the expenditure of strength of any one man is not very much greater. + +The mental work of the “upper ten thousand,” who are now supposed to +be in a state of degeneration, has certainly not been so monstrously +increased as many are disposed to think. Besides, mere work does not +wear out the nervous system nearly so much as the agitations of the +emotions connected with the intensification of the battle of life. +These things have, as I have elsewhere shown, an important influence +upon the bodily functions, especially those of the vascular system, +and thus upon the entire work of nutrition. Wundt[223] says: “Care and +sorrow influence nutrition by enduring limitation of the entrance of +air and blood.” Quiet intellectual work, even if conjoined with great +effort, does far less harm to the nervous system than do such emotions +as affliction and anxiety. + +Had we, therefore, any reason to presume a universal degeneration of +the highly civilized nations, the causes of it should be sought, above +all, in the intensification of the daily battle of life, with its train +of depressing emotions and anxieties. The increased impressions of the +senses, and the heightened demands upon the resistance of the nervous +system, occasioned by the sudden revolution--when they do not bring +about serious emotional disturbances, vexations, etc.--may cause some +fatigue, but are matters to which the human organism quickly becomes +habituated by the law of adaptation. + +Our social relations undoubtedly draw more upon the powers of the +individual than did those of a century ago. Yet that generation +likewise thought its tasks more difficult than those of its +forefathers. We can not conceive that our grade of civilization +determines the limits of human capacity. The demands which will be put +upon the life of coming generations will probably be far greater yet; +but the human system will contrive to adapt itself to those demands. +The weak will go to the wall; the strong will mount to higher grades of +development. This law of adaptation and of further development always +has operated in Nature, and will still continue to do so. + +The arguments of which the sectaries of universal degeneration avail +themselves are, as we have seen in the course of our investigations, +by no means demonstrative. They rest partly upon erroneous doctrines +and partly upon a quite amateurish apprehension of psychological and +psychiatrical concepts. Philosophy, art, and literature, in which +Nordau thinks he sees signs of universal degeneration, are merely the +expression of the modern metaphysics, of religious scepticism, and of +philosophical positivism. + +Moreover, by a very remarkable contradiction, Nordau himself destroys +his whole theory. After having characterized modern art as the +principal evidence of universal degeneration, he declares, at the +conclusion of his work, that it constitutes a forward step in human +development. He says: “The fable and the fairy tale were once the +highest productions of the human mind.... To-day they represent a +species of literature only cultivated for the nursery. The verse--which +by rhythm, figurative expression, and rhyme, trebly betrays its origin +in the stimulation of rhythmically functioning subordinate organs, in +associations of ideas working according to external similitudes, and in +that working according to consonance--was originally the only form of +literature. To-day it is only employed for purely emotional portrayal; +for all other purposes it has been conquered by prose, and indeed has +almost passed into the condition of an atavistic language. Under our +very eyes the novel is being increasingly degraded, serious and highly +cultivated men scarcely deeming it worthy of attention, and it appeals +more and more exclusively to the young and to women.”[224] According to +this, we must presume that our art, which has already “conquered” its +earlier form, stands upon a higher grade of development, so that there +can be no question of degeneration in it. But the idea that the poetry +of a Homer, a Dante, a Goethe, has proceeded “from the stimulation of +rhythmically functioning, subordinate organs,” and that it ought to-day +to be considered as in “the condition of an atavistic language,” is as +ridiculous as the contrary thesis of the degeneration of modern art. +No subordinate organs, but the idealistic universe-conception of the +times, dictated the form of art in each period of the world’s history. + +When Nordau asserts that--in case his “therapy” is considered and +humanity is thus protected from further arrest and degeneration--“after +some centuries art and poetry will have become pure atavisms, and +will no longer be cultivated except by the most emotional portion of +humanity--by women, by the young, perhaps even by children,”[225] +his assertion rests upon ignorance of the psychical constitution of +those heroes of the mind whom we call geniuses. Whoever does not +persist in the attitude of Moreau and with him stigmatizes genius as a +morbid condition, will see that, with the further mental development +of humanity, creative genius will continue to produce, as it always +has been producing. In discussing the psychology of genius we have +seen that “the artist of genius does not create because he would, but +because he must.” Hence art will continue to subsist as long as there +are men upon the earth. + +As to the form which the art of future centuries is to assume, +all possibility of divining it fails us. We know that it is always +dependent upon the contemporary conception of the universe. But how +this will shape itself in the distant future we can not know. It were +therefore a vain proceeding to discuss the subject, or to express any +decided opinion about the matter. + +According to our investigations, we must necessarily come to the +conclusion that the authors mentioned have adduced no proof of the +alleged universal degeneration in the highly civilized nations. Mankind +is not in a “black plague of degeneration”; and the world has as +little need to be scared by stories of the _Völkerdämmerung_ as by the +prophecy of Herr Falb about the immanent destruction of our planet. +On the other hand, the further development of mankind will be greatly +benefited if the teachings of science are attended to and the various +baneful influences that act upon the nervous system are combated. +In that way increase of insanity may be prevented, and a sane and +well-developed posterity insured. + + + + + INDEX. + + + Anthropophagy in Germany, 175. + + Appetite, abnormalities in insanity, 16. + + Art, Nordau’s view of modern styles, 203-205; + various terms defined, 206; + superficial imitation of masters, 214. + + Attention, nature, 10. + + + Beethoven, psychology of his art, 59. + + Body, should have due attention in education, 153. + + Bogeys, children should not be threatened with, 154. + + Brutus, apparition of Cæsar to, 84. + + + Conceit of youthful degenerates, 135. + + Convents, hysteria in, 176. + + Courbet, symptoms of degeneracy, 138-141. + + Cromwell, vision of a gigantic woman, 85. + + + Dancing mania, 178. + + Degeneration, symptoms according to Morel, 118, 122; + should not be confused with heredity, 119-121; + among writers, 217; + supporters of the idea numerous, 320; + as depicted by Ibsen, 322; + not established by the exactions of modern life, 324-330. + + Delusions, nature, 15. + + Demonomania in the sixteenth century, 174; + in the beginning of the seventeenth, 180. + + Development, rapid, no indication of later powers, 147. + + Disease, nature, 73. + + Drunkenness, effect on offspring, 121. + + + Education, should seek uniform development, 148; + influence on character, 149; + imitation of parents’ faults, 152; + physical side not to be neglected, 153; + dangerous fictions, 154; + duty of the mother, 155; + influence in developing or hiding genius, 163; + training for show, 213. + + Emotions, seek expression, 43; + effect on the body, 95; + highly developed in poets, 104; + domination in some degenerates, 126; + deficiency or perversion in others, 130; + egoistic in others, 137. + + _Ernst_, Schopenhauer on, 100. + + Eroticism, ascribed to Wagner by Nordau, 314-316. + + + Fancy, nature, 34; + its product depends upon its material, 35; + lively in the childhood of some degenerates, 127. + + Fashion, more rational than formerly, 192-194. + + _Folie à deux_, 188. + + Food, refusal to take, by men of genius and the insane, 110. + + + Generals, nature of their genius, 66. + + Genius, meaning, 19-24; + its essential characteristic, 24; + varieties suggested, 29; + involuntary character of its possessor’s work, 31; + impulse to exercise its powers, 43, 45, 49; + in musical performers, 61-63; + scientific, 63, 67; + in the labours of generals and statesmen, 66; + has no definite psychological meaning, 68-70; + alleged nearness to insanity, 71, 75; + accompanied by hallucinations, 79; + excitation of poets during composition, 96; + the man of genius not a stranger to the world, 106; + absorption a frequent characteristic, 108; + often bears criticism ill, 111; + does not hold disagreeable habits in check, 111; + cases of insanity in men of genius, 112; + inheritance, 115; + prominent in youth, 150. + + Giants, sometimes disproportioned, 74. + + Gigantic growth, 132, 133. + + Goethe on poetic genius, 33, 40; + on the poetic impulse, 43, 45; + on the development of Wilhelm Meister, 46; + on the proper nature of poetry, 47; + compared with Schiller, 48-54; + character, 80; + mental condition, 81; + apparition of himself, 93; + story-telling in boyhood, 99; + power of reproducing perceptions, 88; + chronic melancholy, 105; + interest in stories told by his mother, 157. + + Graphomania as described by Lombroso, 141-146. + + + Hallucinations, in the insane and men of genius, 79, 83-85; + distinguished from illusions, 86; + useful, 87; + religious visions, 90; + different opinions as to morbid character, 91, 95; + produced by suggestion, 92; + recognition by percipients, 94. + + Heredity, relation to genius, 115; + must not be confused with degeneration, 119-121. + + Hypnotism, close relation to hysteria, 189. + + Hysteria, secular, defined, 170; + former prevalence, 173-182; + influenced by suggestion, 182; + recent examples, 185; + secular, not so prevalent as Nordau declares, 191-198. + + + Ibsen, supports the idea of degeneration, 322. + + Idealism defined, 206; + conflict with other styles, 207-210; + Böcklin as an example, 211. + + Ideas, imperative, 13. + + Idiots, cases with high development of one faculty, 132. + + Illusions, distinguished from hallucinations, 86. + + Imbeciles, story-telling, 98. + + Impulse of the genius, 43, 45, 99. + + Injuries, check or modify mental development, 132. + + Insanity, improved treatment, 1; + misunderstood by theologians, 2, 72; + present treatment not perfect, 3; + symptoms are exaggerations of normal conditions, 6; + ascribed to all men of remarkable powers, 75; + how detected, 78; + vivid dreams in, 85; + impulse to absurd labours, 101; + cases in men of genius, 112; + various manias, 124; + unbalanced development, 125; + wrong inferences from statistics, 171; + must not be confused with errors of the time, 199; + how far shown in productions of artists, 218; + of authors, 219; + Strindberg as an example, 220-225; + ascribed to Schopenhauer, 228-231; + ascribed to Wagner, 300-308; + depicted as a disease by Shakespeare, 321. + + Inventors, nature of their genius, 67. + + + Lessing on poetic genius, 39. + + Literature, preference of writers for the ugly, 215. + + Lombroso, Cesare, his Genius and Insanity criticised, 76; + on hereditary genius, 115; + diagnoses epilepsy and ecstasy in Dante, 225; + melancholia in Schopenhauer, 228-231. + + Luther, alleged hallucination, 85. + + Lying, a symptom of mental derangement, 97. + + + Manias, various, 124. + + Marriage, Nordau’s views, 245. + + Mind, abnormal, deemed diseased, 75; + proportion of faculties, 82. + + Moods, connection with ideas, 41. + + Mother, duty, 155; + influence of Goethe’s, 157; + of Schiller’s, 158; + other cases, 159-162; + proper share in education, 164. + + Mozart, psychology of his musical creation, 55, 56-59. + + Musical performers, distinction between those having genius and those + having talent, 61. + + + Naturalism, defined, 206; + conflict with other styles, 207-210; + preference for the ugly, 215. + + Nordau, Max, on the prevalence of hysteria, 172, 191-195; + his criticisms of current art, literature, and philosophy examined, + 196-198; + on degeneration in art, 203-205; + on schools of art, 210; + on insanity in Schopenhauer, 231; + criticises Zola, 232-235; + on degeneracy in Tolstoi, 239-245; + on marriage, 245; + judgment of Ibsen, 247; + pronounces Wagner degenerate, 308-319. + + + Originality, as a characteristic of genius, 24. + + + Perceptions, how formed, 8; + reproduced by internal stimuli, 13. + + Poesy, relations to fancy and to intellect, 38; + dominated by impulse, 43, 45; + shows the general in the particular, 47. + + Precocious children, injurious treatment, 165-169. + + Psychiatry, definition, 1; + an empirical science, 77. + + + Realism, defined, 206; + conflict with other styles, 207-210; + preference for the ugly, 215. + + Recollection, nature, 9; + phenomena of associative reproduction, 11. + + Referential ideas, 222-224. + + Religious fanaticism due to degeneration, 128. + + Reproduction of perceptions, 87-90. + + Romanticism, defined, 206; + conflict with other styles, 207-210. + + + Schiller on poetic genius, 32, 38, 41; + compared with Goethe, 48-54. + + Science, the work of genius in, 63, 67. + + Shakespeare, not visible in his characters, 53; + depiction of insanity, 321. + + Spiritualism, successor to the belief in witchcraft, 186. + + Statesmen, nature of their genius, 66. + + Stories, fictitious, injurious to dreamy children, 154. + + Suggestion, influence in hysteria, 182-186; + in spiritualism, 186. + + + Talent, musical, 55, 61-63. + + Theologians, errors concerning insanity, 2, 72. + + Tolstoi, speculations on life, 235-239; + his degeneracy in Nordau’s eyes, 239-245. + + + Vulgarity of many degenerate writers, 137. + + + Wagner, describes the Heroic Symphony, 60; + early years, 249; + first works, 250-252; + the Flying Dutchman, 253-256; + nature of his artistic tendency, 256-260; + success of Rienzi, 260-262; + the writing of Tannhäuser, 261, 263-266; + Lohengrin, 266-269; + his revolt against the culture of his time, 269-271; + sketch of the Nibelung trilogy, 272-288; + sketch of Parsifal, 288-294; + his art as it appeared to him, 295-297; + irksomeness of writing, 297; + the psychical side of his works, 298-300; + declared insane by Theodor Puschmann, 300-308; + declared degenerate by Nordau, 308-319. + + Werewolf superstition, 179. + + + Zola, criticised by Nordau, 232-235. + + + + + _Printed from American Plates_ + Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. + _London & Edinburgh_ + + + + + FOOTNOTES + + +[1] Compare the report of the yearly meeting of the Association of +German Alienists, at Frankfurt a. M., 1893. Report upon Psychiatry and +the Care of Souls, by Siemens. + +[2] Theorie der schönen Künste, 3d ed., 1798. Article, Genie. + +[3] L’Abbé Du Bos. Réflexions critiques sur la poésie et sur la +peinture, 2d part, section 1. “On appelle génie, l’aptitude qu’un homme +a reçu de la nature pour faire bien et facilement certaines choses que +les autres ne sauroient faire que très mal, même en prenant beaucoup de +peine.” + +[4] Theorie der schönen Künste und Wissenschaften, ed. of 1767, p. 391. + +[5] Logik und Metaphysik. + +[6] Metaphysica, § 648. “Determinata facultatum cognoscitiuarum +proportio inter se in aliquo est ingenium.” + +[7] Ursache des gesunkenen Geschmacks bei den verschiedenen Völkern, da +er geblüht, 1775, p. 62. + +[8] Karl Friedrich Flögel. Geschichte des menschlichen Verstandes. + +[9] Betrachtungen über den Menschen. + +[10] Psychologie des grands hommes. Originally published in the Revue +Philosophique. + +[11] Ferdinand Christoph Weise. Allgemeine Theorie des Genies. + +[12] An Essay on Genius, 1774. “Genius is properly the faculty of +invention, by means of which a man is qualified for making new +discoveries in science, or for producing original works of art. We +may ascribe taste, judgment, or knowledge to a man who is incapable +of invention, but we can not reckon him as a man of genius. In order +to determine how far he merits this character (!) we must inquire +whether he has discovered any new principle in science, or has invented +any new art, or has carried those arts that are already practised to +a higher degree of perfection than former masters; or whether, at +least, he has, in matters of science, improved upon the discoveries of +his predecessors, or reduced principles formerly known to a greater +degree of simplicity and consistency, or traced them through a train +of consequences hitherto unknown; or in the arts, whether he has +designed some new work different from those of his predecessors, +though not perhaps excelling them (!). Whatever falls short of this +is servile imitation or a dull effort of plodding industry, which, as +not implying invention, can be deemed no proof of genius, whatever +capacity, skill, or diligence it may evidence. But if a man shows +invention, no intellectual defects (!) which his performance may betray +can forfeit his claim to genius. His invention may be irregular, wild, +undisciplined; but still it is regarded as an infallible mark of real +natural genius (!), and the degree of this faculty that we ascribe to +him is always in proportion to the novelty, the difficulty, and the +dignity of his inventions.” + +[13] Geschichte des menschlichen Verstandes. + +[14] Anthropologie in pragmatischer Hinsicht, 1798, § 55. + +[15] Ueber die Verwandtschaft des Genies mit dem Irrsinn, in the +Allgemeine Zeitschrift für Psychiatrie, vol. xxxiii. + +[16] Ferdinand Christoph Weise. Allgemeine Theorie des Genies. + +[17] _Loc. cit._, p. 318. + +[18] P. 319. + +[19] De l’esprit, 1758. Discours 4me., chap. i. + +[20] “To gain an exact definition of the word genius, and in general +of the aggregate of different names given to mind, we must rise to +wider ideas, and for this purpose we must lend an attentive ear to the +judgments of the public.... The public ranks as men of genius alike the +Descartes, the Newtons, the Lockes, the Montesquieus, the Corneilles, +the Molières, etc. The name genius given to men so different supposes +that there is some common quality in which they agree.” + +[21] Paul Radestock. Genie und Wahnsinn. + +[22] Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, vol. i, Book III, § 36, and +vol. ii, cap. xxxi. + +[23] Jürgen Bona Meyer. Genie und Talent, Zeitschrift für +Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaften, B. xi. + +[24] Friedrich Theodor Vischer. Æsthetik; oder Wissenschaft des +Schönen, 1846. + +[25] Vorschule der Æsthetik, § 12, Besonnenheit. + +[26] 1773, April 20. “Il faut avouer que dans les arts de génie, tout +est l’ouvrage de l’instinct. Corneille fit la scène d’Horace et de +Curiace comme un oiseau fait son nid, à cela près qu’un oiseau fait +toujours bien, et qu’il n’en est pas de même de nous autres chétifs.” + +[27] Grundzüge der physiologischen Psychologie. + +[28] Garve. Anmerkungen über Gellert. + +[29] Hamburgische Dramaturgie, 34tes Stück. + +[30] + + Ein Quidam sagt: “Ich bin von keiner Schule; + Kein Meister lebt, mit dem ich buhle; + Auch bin ich weit davon entfernt + Dass ich von Todten was gelernt.” + Das heisst, wenn ich ihn recht verstand: + “Ich bin ein Narr, auf eigne Hand.” + + +[31] Entgegnung auf Äusserungen Französischer Journalisten. + +[32] Wilhelm Dilthey. Ueber die Einbildungskraft der Dichter. +Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft, vol. x. + +[33] Hermann Grimm, Goethe. + +[34] + + Freudvoll und leidvoll + Gedankenvoll sein; + Hangen und Bangen + In schwebender Pein, + Himmelhoch jauchzend, + Zum Tode betrübt ... + + +[35] Otto Jahn, Mozart, i, 840. + +[36] Nissen, Mozart, p. 627. + +[37] Jahn, _Op. cit._, ii, 127. + +[38] Gesammelte Schriften, vol. v. + +[39] Schiller’s Horen, Bd. I. + +[40] Jean Paul, Vorschule der Æsthetik. + +[41] Leben, Charakter, und Kunst des Ritters Nicolo Paganini. + +[42] Wundt. Physiologische Psychologie, ii, 403. + +[43] Jürgen Bona Meyer. Genie und Talent. + +[44] De tranquilitate animi. + +[45] Problemata, 30, 1. + +[46] De divinatione, i, 37. + +[47] Od. iii, 4. + +[48] Absalom and Architophel, i, 63. + +[49] Leçons sur la chaleur animale. Paris, 1875, Leçon 19me. + +[50] Ranke. Der Mensch. + +[51] La psychologie morbide dans ses rapports avec la philosophie de +l’histoire, Paris, 1859. + +[52] Genio e follia, 1864. + +[53] Lombroso. Neurose bei Dante und Michelangelo. Die Zukunft, +herausgeb. Maxim. Harden, vol. v, No. 12. + +[54] The sanity of true genius. + +[55] Plutarch. Brutus, chap. xxxvi. + +[56] _Ibid._, chap. xlviii. + +[57] Genio e follia. + +[58] Lombroso. _Op. cit._, p. 19. + +[59] Von Krafft-Ebing. Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie. + +[60] Zur Theorie der Hallucination. Allgemeine Zeitschrift für +Psychiatrie, Bd. xxv. + +[61] The Power of the Soul over the Body, 1845, Part II, chap. vii. +(5th ed., p. 170). + +[62] Vita di Vittorio Alfieri scritta di Esso, Epoca 4ta, cap. xv. + +[63] Letter to Moore, January 28, 1817. + +[64] Charcot. Leçons sur les maladies du système nerveux. + +[65] Morel. Études cliniques. + +[66] Lasègnes. Les hystériques, leur perversité, leurs mensonges. + +[67] Delbrück. Die pathologische Lüge. + +[68] Psychologie de l’idiot et de l’imbécile, 1891, chap. viii, p. 216. + +[69] Hagen. Ueber die Verwandtschaft des Genies mit dem Irrsinn. +Allgem. Zeitschr. f. Psychiatrie, B. xxxiii. + +[70] Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung. + +[71] Trélat. La Folie Lucide, quoted by Cullerre. + +[72] Bayard Taylor’s Faust. From the scene in Faust’s study just before +the entrance of the student. + +[73] Genius and Insanity. + +[74] Jürgen Bona Meyer. Genie und Talent. + +[75] The Æsthetician Vischer says: “The man endowed with fancy is in +the midst of the world truly solitary, for the one which he at present +peacefully warms in his bosom is his world; and the empirical world +has surrendered all its significance to this microcosm. Thus he is +indifferent to the things about him, and seems to be out of himself. +The reason is, that he is quite within himself, but in such a way +that he does not distinguish subject and object within himself. What +has come upon him is that the object and his subjective life ferment +together; and he now listens unconsciously to this inward singing, +sounding, and weaving.” Vol. ii, p. 345. + +[76] See P. Möbius. Krankengeschichte Rousseaus. + +[77] Ribot, Heredity; Francis Galton, Hereditary Genius, etc. + +[78] _Ibid._, p. 72. + +[79] _Ibid._, p. 76. + +[80] Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie, p. 197. + +[81] Traité des Dégénérescences Physiques, Intellectuelles et Morales. + +[82] See the introduction to Psychiatrische Vorlesungen von V. Magnan. +Transl. by P. J. Möbius. + +[83] Realencyclopädie der gesamten Heilkunde. + +[84] v. Krafft-Ebing. Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie, 4th ed. + +[85] Compare von Krafft-Ebing, p. 179: “Wonderful as it is, cases +adduced by von Flemming, Ruer, and Demeaux prove the fact that even +children of otherwise temperate parents, whose copulation took +place in a fateful hour of drunkenness, are extremely disposed to +mental derangement, especially to diseases of the nerves. This bad +interferential effect may show itself from birth as inborn imbecility +(_Schwach und Blödsinn_).” + +[86] Psychiatrische Vorlesungen von Magnan. Transl. by P. J. Möbius. + +[87] _Op cit._, i, 2. + +[88] W. W. Ireland. Herrschermacht und Geisteskrankheit. Stuttgart, +1887. + +[89] Ranke. Der Mensch., vol. ii, p. 136. + +[90] _Op cit._ + +[91] Ranke. _Op. cit._, ii, p. 135. + +[92] Anthropologie in pragmatischer Hinsicht, § 56 (§ 57 in some +editions). + +[93] Rosenberg. Geschichte der modernen Kunst. + +[94] On his refusal of the cross of the Legion of Honor. + +[95] H. Störer. Leben des Ritters Karl von Linné. + +[96] Sollier. Der Idiot und der Imbecille. + +[97] Gustav Hauffe. Talente und sogenannte besondere Anlagen hat der +Mensch nicht! See Pädagogische Sammelmappe, 1875-’76, 1-6. + +[98] Ludwig Nohl. Biographie Mozarts. + +[99] Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie. + +[100] Pathologie und Therapie der Geisteskrankheiten. + +[101] Schüle. Klinische Psychiatrie. + +[102] La Peur, Paris, 1886. + +[103] G. H. Lewes. The Life and Works of Goethe, 1855, Book I, chap. v. + +[104] Degeneration, p. 537. + +[105] _Ibid._ + +[106] Calmeil. Der Wahnsinn in den vier letzten Jahrhunderten. Nach dem +Französischen bearbeitet von Leubusch. + +[107] Calmeil, _op. cit._, p. 30. He cites Annales Flandicorum, ed. +Jacob Meyer, lib. xvi; Monstrelet, Chroniques, book ii; Del Rio, +Disquisitiones magicarum, etc., p. 821; J. Wier, Opera Omnia, p. 205. + +[108] Nider. In Malleo Maleficarum, vol. i, p. 719. + +[109] Sprenger. In Malleo Maleficarum. + +[110] Bodin. Démonomanie des sorciers. + +[111] Calmeil, _op. cit._ + +[112] Calmeil, _op. cit._, p. 32. + +[113] Gilles de la Tourette. Die Hysterie nach den Lehren der +Salpétrière. Deutsch von Karl Grube. + +[114] Annalen für Hygiene und gerichtliche Medicin, 1834, vol. xii. + +[115] Calmeil, _op. cit._, p. 84. + +[116] Calmeil, _op. cit._, p. 84. + +[117] Cf. Richer. Études cliniques sur l’Hystéro-épilepsie ou grande +hystérie. + +[118] Calmeil, _op. cit._, p. 139. + +[119] The reader is especially referred to G. Guinon’s article on Les +agents provocateurs de l’hystérie. Le Progrès Médical, Paris, 1889. + +[120] Delancre. Tableau de l’inconstance des mauvais anges et démons, +Paris, 1613; P. Delancre. L’incrédulité et mécréance pleinement +convaincue, etc., Paris, 1622. + +[121] Cf. P. Richer, _op. cit._, p. 712. + +[122] Gilles de la Tourette, _op cit._, p. 46. + +[123] F. Jolly. Ueber Hypnotismus und Geistesstörung. In the Archiv für +Psychiatrie und Nervenkrankheiten, vol. xxv, Part III. + +[124] Hagen. Genie und Irrsinn. + +[125] Degeneration, p. 27. + +[126] Degeneration, p. 29. + +[127] Vorschule der Æsthetik. + +[128] Die Krankengeschichte Rousseaus. + +[129] Lombroso. Neurose bei Dante und Michelangelo. Die Zukunft, 1893. + +[130] Inferno, iii, 130. + +[131] See Dr. Nordau’s dedication of Degeneration to Prof. Lombroso. + +[132] Lombroso and G. Ferrero. Das Weib als Verbrecherin und +Prostituierte, uebersetzt von Kurella, Hamburg, 1893. + +[133] Der Zeitgeist, Berlin, 1892, No. 4. + +[134] _Ibid._, p. 499. + +[135] _Ibid._, p. 503. + +[136] Degeneration, p. 151. + +[137] _Ibid._, p. 166. + +[138] _Ibid._, p. 150. + +[139] _Ibid._, p. 154. + +[140] _Ibid._, p. 415. + +[141] Ed. von Hartmann. The Philosophy of the Unconscious. + +[142] Richard Wagner. Gesammelte Schriften und Dichtungen, iv, p. 312. + +[143] _Ibid._, iv, p. 317. + +[144] _Ibid._, i, p. 14. + +[145] _Ibid._, iv, p. 315. + +[146] _Ibid._, iv, p. 316. + +[147] _Ibid._, iv, p. 321. + +[148] _Ibid._, iv, p. 328. + +[149] _Ibid._, vi, p. 372. + +[150] _Ibid._, iv, p. 288. + +[151] _Ibid._, iv, p. 389. + +[152] + + Unmöglich dünkt mich’s dass ich nenne + Die Länder alle, die ich fand; + Das einz’ge, nur, nach dem ich brenne, + Ich find’es nicht, mein Heimatland. + + +[153] _Ibid._, i, p. 24. + +[154] _Ibid._, iv, p. 330. + +[155] + + Nicht Lust allein liegt mir am Herzen, + Aus Freuden sehn’ ich mich nach Schmerzen; + Aus deinem Reiche muss ich flieh’n, + O Königin, Göttin! Lass mich zieh’n. + + +[156] + + Ein Engel bat für dich auf Erden-- + Bald schwebt er segnend über dir: + Elizabeth! + + +[157] _Ibid._, iv, p. 343. + +[158] + + Doch hin muss ich zur Welt der Erden, + Bei dir kann ich nur Sklave werden; + Nach Freiheit doch verlange ich, + Nach Freiheit, Freiheit dürstet’s mich; + Zu Kampf und Streite will ich stehen, + Sei’s auch auf Tod und Untergehen-- + Drum muss aus deinem Reich ich flieh’n-- + O Königin, Göttin! Lass mich zieh’n. + + +[159] + + Deiner Schande Schmach blüht dir dann auf; + Gebannt, verflucht, folgt dir der Hohn; + Zerknirscht, zertreten seh’ ich dich nahen, + Bedeckt mit Staub das entehrte Haupt. + + +[160] _Ibid._, iv, p. 360. + +[161] + + Nie sollst du mich befragen, + Noch Wissens Sorge tragen, + Woher ich kam der Fahrt, + Noch wie mein Nam’ und Art! + + +[162] + + Mein Held, mein Retter! Nimm mich hin! + Dir gieb ich alles, was ich bin! + + +[163] _Ibid._, iv, p. 363. + +[164] _Ibid._, iv, p. 365. + +[165] _Ibid._, iv, p. 369. + +[166] Art and Revolution, _ibid._, iii, p. 38. + +[167] _Ibid._, iv, p. 406. + +[168] _Ibid._, iii, p. 39. + +[169] _Ibid._, iii, p. 56. + +[170] _Ibid._, iii, p. 266. + +[171] _Ibid._, iv, p. 381. + +[172] + + Der Welt Erbe + Gewänne zu eigen + Wer aus dem Rheingold + Schüfe den Ring, + Der masslose Macht ihm verlieh. + + +[173] + + Nur wer der Minne + Macht versagt, + Nur wer der Liebe + Lust verjagt, + Nur der erzielt sich den Zauber, + Zum Reif zu zwingen das Gold. + + +[174] Or “mist-hood,” a garment that rendered the wearer invisible and +gave him the strength of twelve men.--Translator. + +[175] + + Kein Froher soll + Seiner sich freu’n; + Keinem Glücklichen lache + Sein lichter Glanz; + Wer ihn besitzt, + Den sehre sorge, + Und wer ihn nicht hat, + Nage der Neid! + Jeder giere + Nach seinem Gut, + Doch keiner geniesse + Mit Nutzen sein. + + +[176] On the State and Religion, _ibid._, viii, p. 11. + +[177] + + Wie Alles war, weiss ich, + Wie Alles wird, + Wie Alles sein wird + Seh’ ich auch: + Der ew’gen Welt + Ur-Wala, + Erda mahnt deinen Mut. + + +[178] + + Die Burg ist fertig, + Verfallen das Pfand: + Vergisst Du, was Du vergabst? + + +[179] + + Das Weib zu missen, + Wisse gemutet mich weh: + Soll aus dem Sinn sie mir schwinden, + Des Geschmeides Hort + Häufe denn so, + Dass meinem Blick + Die blühende ganz er verdeck’! + + +[180] + + Weh’ noch blitzt + Ihr Blick zu mir her, + Des Auges stern + Strahlt mich noch an: + Durch eine spalte, + Muss ich’s erspäh’n!-- + Seh’ ich dies wonnige Auge, + Von dem Weibe lass’ ich nicht ab. + + +[181] + + Der durch Verträge ich Herr, + Den Verträgen bin ich nun Knecht. + + +[182] + + Dann wäre Walhall verloren: + Der der Liebe fluchte + Er allein + Nützte neidisch + Des Ringen Runen + Zu aller Edlen + Endloser schmach. + + +[183] + + Was so schlimmes + Schuf das Paar, + Das liebend einte der Lenz? + Der Minne Zauber + Entzückte sie, + Wer büsst mir der Minne Macht? + + +[184] + + Du siehst nur das Eine, + Das And’re seh’ ich, + Das Jenes mir jagt aus dem Blick. + +These words are taken from the original draft of the text, as it had +been planned before the scene was written. + +[185] + + Unheilig + Acht’ ich den Eid, + Der Unliebende eint; + Und mir wahrlich + Mute nicht zu, + Dass mit Zwang ich halte, + Was Dir nicht haftet: + Denn wo kühn Kräfte sich regen, + Da rath’ ich offen zum Krieg. + + +[186] + + In eig’ner Fessel + Fing ich mich: + Ich unfreiester Aller! + + +[187] + + Befiehl mir dein Weib + Um des Pfandes Willen, + Das wonnig von Dir es empfing. + + +[188] + + Ein bräutliches Feuer + Soll Dir nun brennen, + Wie nie einer Braut es gebrannt! + Flammende Glut + Umglühe den Fels; + Mit zehrenden Schrecken + Scheuch es den Zagen; + Der Feige fliehe + Brünhilde’s Fels: + Denn einer nur freie die Braut, + Der freier als ich der Gott! + + +[189] + + Fahre denn hin, + Herrische Pracht, + Göttlichen Prunkes + Prahlende Schmach! + Zusammenbreche, + Was ich gebaut! + Auf geb’ ich mein Werk, + Eines nur will ich noch: + Das Ende---- + Das Ende!-- + + +[190] + + Nur einer dürfte, + Was ich nicht darf: + Ein Held dem helfend + Nie ich mich neigte; + Der fremd dem Gotte, + Frei seiner Gunst, + Unbewusst, + Ohne Geheiss, + Aus eig’ner Not + Mit der eig’nen Wehr + Schüfe die That, + Die ich scheuen muss, + Die nie mein Rat ihm entriet, + Wünscht sich auch einzig mein Wunsch. + + +[191] + + Was ihr mir nützet + Weiss ich nicht. + + +[192] + + Mein Blut verdärb euch den Trank; + Nicht fliesst mir’s echt + Und edel wie euch, + Störrisch und kalt + Stockt’s in mir; + Nicht will’s die Wange mir röten, + Drum bleib’ ich fern + Vom feurigen Bund. + + +[193] + + Echter als er + Schwur keiner Eide; + Treuer als er + Hielt keiner Vorträge; + Laut’rer als er + Liebte kein and’rer. + + +[194] + + Die seinem Dienst ihr zugesindet + Auf Pfaden, die kein Sünder findet + Ihr wisst, dass nur dem Reinen + Vergönnt ist, sich zu einen, + Den Brüdern, die zu höchsten Rettungswerken + Des Grales heil’ge Wunderkräfte stärken. + + +[195] + + Ohnmächtig, in sich selbst die Sünde zu ertöten, + An sich legt er die Frevlerhand, + Die nun dem Grale zugewandt, + Verachtungsvoll dess’ Hüter von sich stiess. + + +[196] + + Schon nah dem Schloss wird uns der Held entrückt, + Ein furchtbar schönes Weib hat ihn entzückt; + In seinen Armen liegt er trunken, + Der Speer ist ihm entsunken; + Ein Todesschrei!--ich stürm’ herbei:-- + Von dannen Klingsor schwand, + Den heil’gen Speer hat er entwandt. + + +[197] Wohl willst du, denn du musst. + +[198] + + Vor dem verwaisten Heiligtum + In brünst’gem Beten lag Amfortas, + Ein Rettungszeichen heiss erflehend; + Ein sel’ger Schimmer da endfloss dem Grale; + Ein heilig Traumgesicht + Nun deutlich zu ihm spricht + Durch hell erschauter Wortezeichen Male: + “Durch Mitleid wissend + Der reine Thor, + Harre sein’, + Den ich erker.” + + +[199] + + Wehe! Wehe! Was that ich? Wo, war ich? + Mutter: Süsse, holde Mutter! + Dein Sohn, dein Sohn musste dich morden? + O Thor! Blöder, taumelnder Thor! + Wo irrtest Du hin, ihrer vergessend? + Deiner, deiner vergessend, + Traute treuerste Mutter? + + +[200] + + Als Muttersegens letzten Gruss + Der Liebe--ersten Kuss! + + +[201] + + Amfortas! + Die Wunde!--die Wunde! + Sie brennt in meinem Herzen. + + +[202] _Op. cit._, iv, p. 368. + +[203] _Op. cit._, x, p. 224. + +[204] _Op. cit._, iv, p. 387. + +[205] _Op. cit._, iv, p. 401. See also Zukunftsmusik, vii, p. 153. + +[206] Dr. Th. Puschmann, Practising Physician and Specialist in +Psychology in Munich. Richard Wagner, eine psychiatrische Studie. + +[207] Richard Wagner und der “Specialist der Psychiatrie.” Eine +Beleuchtung der Puschmannschen Studie von C. P. Berlin, 1873. + +[208] Degeneration, p. 205. + +[209] _Ibid._, p. 171. + +[210] _Ibid._, p. 172. + +[211] _Ibid._, p. 176. + +[212] _Ibid._, p. 181. + +[213] _Ibid._, p. 188. + +[214] + + Doch einmal im Jahre fänd’ ich’s weise, + Dass man die Regeln selbst probir’, + Ob in der Gewohnheit trägem G’leise + Ihr’ Kraft und Leben sich nicht verlier’: + Und ob ihr der Natur + Noch seid auf rechter Spur, + Dass sagt euch nur, + Wer nichts weiss von der Tabulatur. + + +[215] _Ibid._, p. 203. + +[216] Æschyli Choëphoræ. + +[217] Les démoniaques dans l’art, Paris, 1887. + +[218] Ibsen’s Gespenster und die Psychiatrie, Die Zukunft, Berlin, +1893, vol. iv, No. 51. + +[219] Degeneration, p. 285. + +[220] _Op cit._, p. 670. + +[221] Degeneration, p. 39. + +[222] _Ibid._ + +[223] Wilhelm Wundt. Grundzüge der physiologischen Psychologie, third +edition, Leipsic, 1887, ii, p. 457. + +[224] Degeneration, p. 543. + +[225] _Ibid._ + + + + +Transcriber’s Notes + +Italic text is indicated with _underscores_. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79296 *** diff --git a/79296-h/79296-h.htm b/79296-h/79296-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..01f01b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/79296-h/79296-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14010 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + Genius and Degeneration | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 7%; + margin-right: 7%; +} + +h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +p { + text-indent: 1.3em; + margin-top: .5em; + margin-bottom: .5em; + text-align: justify; +} + +p.noindent, .footnote p { + text-indent: 0; +} + +hr.chap { + border: none; + position: relative; + text-align: center; + margin: 3em 0; + page-break-after: avoid + } +hr.chap::before { + content: "ꕥ"; + position: relative; + padding: 0 1em; + background: white; + color: #777; + z-index: 1 + } +hr.chap::after { + content: ""; + position: absolute; + top: 50%; + left: 0; + width: 100%; + border-top: 2px solid #ddd; + z-index: 0 + } +hr.front { + width: 10%; + margin: 2.5em 45%; + border: 0; + border-top: 1px solid #777; + page-break-after: avoid + } + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +table td { padding: 0.25em; } + +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + right: 1%; + font-size: x-small; + color: #333; + text-indent: 0; + text-align: right; + position: absolute; +} + +blockquote { + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap, table td {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +ul.index { list-style-type: none; } + +li.ifrst { + margin-top: 1em; + text-indent: -2em; + padding-left: 1em; +} +li.indx { + margin-top: .5em; + text-indent: -2em; + padding-left: 1em; +} +li.isub1 { + text-indent: -2em; + padding-left: 2em; +} + +.transnote {background-color: #eeeeee; + margin:3em; + padding: 1.5em 2.5em 1.5em 2.5em; + font-size:smaller; +} + +/* Footnotes */ + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 85.5%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: 0.7em; +} + +.footnote a, a.fnanchor { text-decoration: none; } +.footnote .poetry { margin-left: 0% } + +/* Poetry */ + +/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry */ +/* .poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} */ +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +.smaller {font-size:smaller;} +.larger {font-size:larger;} +.xlarge {font-size:x-large;} + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} +.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1.0em;} + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79296 ***</div> + +<main> + + +<h1> +GENIUS AND<br> +DEGENERATION<br> +<i class="smaller">A PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY</i> +</h1> + +<p class="center"> + BY<br> + <span class="larger">DR. WILLIAM HIRSCH</span><br> + <br> + <br> + Translated from the Second Edition of<br> + the German Work<br> + <br> + <br> + LONDON<br> + WILLIAM HEINEMANN<br> + 1897<br> + <br> + <span class="smaller">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</span> +</p> + +<hr class="front"> + +<p class="center smaller"> + <span class="xlarge" style="font-family: 'Old English Text MT', 'UnifrakturMaguntia'">Dedicated</span>,<br> + WITH THE AUTHOR’S AFFECTIONATE ESTEEM, TO<br> + <span class="larger"><span class="smcap">Dr.</span> E. MENDEL,</span><br> + PROFESSOR OF NERVOUS AND MENTAL DISEASES AT<br> + THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN. +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE"> + PREFACE. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It is a special trait of recent times that science, particularly +the natural sciences, have assumed an international +character. All civilized nations are equally interested in +the great problems of the day, and they all contribute in +greater or less degree to the mighty structure of modern +science. Nevertheless, the mutual exchange of ideas is +sometimes impeded by differences of language, and this difficulty +is increased when not only the external form but also +the presentation of the subject bears the stamp of a peculiarly +national characteristic. I felt myself confronted by +such a difficulty when I concluded to place the present +work before an English-speaking public. The anthropological +questions treated here have made it necessary to +undertake a psychological analysis of certain individuals, +and to attempt to penetrate as far as possible to the depths +of their mental processes. It was natural that in the original +production of this work the intellectual heroes of the +German people should have been selected, and it is evident +that the appreciation of their traits and work is more perfect +among their own people than among foreign nations. +Nevertheless, I am sure that the characters selected for +analysis, from whose life and works I have attempted to +arrive at a correct conception of both genius and degeneration, +are sufficiently well known to the English reader.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></p> + +<p>The purpose of this publication was to aid in the elucidation +of certain anthropological moot-questions and to +clear up certain notions that were apt to create confusion +not only in medical circles but also in the wider field of the +cultured laity. It can hardly be necessary to disclaim any +personal motives in my criticisms of the views of other +writers on this subject. Nor was it my object to enter into +a critique of the artistic value of the productions of those +whose works I have examined, and I trust the reader will +bear these facts in mind while perusing the polemical portions +of the book. If I have contributed in some measure +to a clearer view of the truth of the questions discussed, the +purpose of this work will be fulfilled.</p> + +<p class="right"> + W. H. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"><i>August, 1896.</i></p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<nav data-epub-type="toc"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS"> + CONTENTS. + </h2> +</div> + + +<table> + <tr><td colspan="2" class="tdr smaller">PAGE</td></tr> + <tr><td>Introduction</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>The Limits of Insanity</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>The Psychology of Genius</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Genius and Insanity</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Degeneration</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Influence of Education upon Genius</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Secular Hysteria</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Art and Insanity</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Richard Wagner and Psychopathology</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td></tr> + <tr><td>Conclusion</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td></tr> +</table> + +</nav> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRODUCTION"> + INTRODUCTION. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Psychiatry, or the science of mental diseases, is one of +the fruits of the century now drawing to its close. It was +only in 1792 that Pinel struck the fetters off the patients at +the Bicêtre and began to treat them humanely; and as late +as 1818 Esquirol reported to the ministry that criminals, not +to say brutes, were better treated in France than were the +insane. The progress of this youthful science within the last +decades may, however, be contemplated with some degree +of satisfaction, and with a strong confidence that the stream +of knowledge will be poured out in still fuller volume in +the years to come.</p> + +<p>Maturer studies and better-reasoned treatment are gradually +enlarging the class of mental disorders that are curable. +Society has also to thank modern researchers into the +causes—the etiology—of those diseases. By this study we +are enabled to oppose the production and spread of those +maladies; and general information about their causes will +directly contribute to the well-being of the community.</p> + +<p>Derangement of mind has in all ages had no inconsiderable +influence upon the course of history and the development +of civilization; there is much in society that is mentally +unwholesome and many crazes that psychiatry can +show how to avoid. That insanity is a disease of a particular +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>organ, biologically indistinguishable from a somatic disorder, +was, in former times, not understood. The notion of +madness was mixed up with religious faiths and metaphysical +theories. Thousands were burned at the stake +simply because men were not so far enlightened as to recognise +that their victims were mentally sick, instead of being, +as they imagined, bewitched or possessed by devils. Think, +too, of the multitudes of entirely sane and innocent persons +who were sent to the rack and the stake upon the accusations +of madmen—mere crazy delusions! Along with such +dreadful results of ignorance, and contributing to them, we +find, in ages widely separated, men’s general conceptions of +the course of nature influenced by superstitions and religious +enthusiasms fostered by the behaviour of the insane, +and accepted largely in deference to teachings of bewildered +minds.</p> + +<p>About the end of the eighteenth century the sad veil of +superstition began to be lifted. Yet the pathway of knowledge +was still a thorny and difficult one. Many an obstacle +remained to be removed. Many a hot fight had to be fought +out. Often and often, even in this nineteenth century, theologians +set their traps to render the scientific pathway personally +perilous. Even as elevated a mind as Heinroth declared +that the cause of insanity was sin.</p> + +<p>Alienists to-day no longer regard mental and bodily +maladies as distinct. In the majority of bodily diseases some +affection of the mental powers is observable; so that no scientific +physician will overlook the importance of psychical +influences. On the other hand, bodily symptoms occur in +by far the greater proportion of cases of insanity. We can +sometimes predict a severe and almost fatal derangement of +the mind, at a time when hardly any aberration has yet appeared, +on the strength of somatic symptoms that no ordinary +person would remark. Thus, mental and bodily disease +are quite inseparable; and a rational treatment of psychoses +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>must be based upon a solid foundation of general +medical skill.</p> + +<p>In spite of all these facts, attempts are still made to withdraw +the care of the insane from the hands of physicians and +to intrust it to the clergy. At a meeting of the German +Union of Evangelical Curates of the Insane, the Rev. von Bodelschwingh, +while admitting that “modern medico-scientific +psychiatry had done good service in the recognition, treatment, +and cure of the insane,” yet censured it as “at bottom +materialistic and temporal.” “It leaves,” he said, “sin and +grace, conscience and guilt, quite out of sight, and does not +recognise that forgiveness of sins brings life and spiritual +health.” He continued as follows: “Speaking broadly, the +less the bodily physician uses his <i lang="la">materia medica</i> in mental +maladies, the better. Such things, for the most part, only +damage body and soul. The bodily physician may be helpful +in the care of the insane, but the prime thing is the treatment +of the sick soul; and this should not be intrusted to +the physician in the main.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_1" href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such utterances are, of course, merely the efforts of the +clergy to extend their power. But inasmuch as they tend +to injure patients, not to say society itself, the interests of +civilization call upon men of science to combat them.</p> + +<p>Nor is it by the clergy alone that attacks upon psychiatry +are made. Various causes have conspired to create of +late years some distrust of this branch of medicine. The +general public is naturally liable to misinterpret cases of +insanity in which the symptoms are not so obvious that no +onlooker can mistake them, and where the practised eye +of the specialist is required to detect their real nature. +Then, too, the not infrequent differences of opinion among +experts in insanity, leading, as they often do, to contrary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>judgments about the nature of individual cases, are cited as +so many proofs that psychiatry is an illusory science, and +that its practitioners are not to be trusted to decide upon +the fate of a man.</p> + +<p>But this is altogether fallacious. Similar objections +would lie against any other practical science. Name, if +you can, the branch of clinical medicine in which doubtful +cases do not occur, or where divergences of opinion are +less frequent than in psychiatry itself. No science whatsoever +is perfect or infallible. In every field our knowledge +and skill have their limits, and there are disputed marches +between the completed conquests of science and the regions +her armies have not yet invaded. Cases in law, as everybody +knows, are continually arising concerning which the +greatest jurists pronounce diametrically contrary opinions. +Yet the ideas and terms with which the lawyer has to deal +are, from the nature of things, susceptible of more rigidly +exact definition than those which form the stock of the +alienist.</p> + +<p>In point of accuracy, psychical pathology simply stands +upon the general level of other branches of clinical medicine. +There are cases upon the border line between insanity +and mental sanity, and concerning them differences of +opinion are unavoidable. But how can that be considered +to detract from the value of the general science? Mistakes +occur wherever human judgment has to be exercised. Indeed, +every remarkable advance of human knowledge is secured +at the cost of temporary errors.</p> + +<p>No doubt many tendencies in modern psychiatry spring +from erroneous conceptions. The very purpose of this +book is to contribute something toward the clearing up +of certain psychological and psychiatrical notions which +have already occasioned not a few disputes and misunderstandings.</p> + +<p>The wisdom of early ages burned the insane as witches +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>and sorcerers, or, at best, incarcerated them in dismal dungeons +and loaded them with chains. Down to the very +beginning of this century insanity was hardly recognised as +a branch of medical science. But now the pendulum has +swung the other way, and there are efforts in many quarters +to narrow more and more the boundaries of mental sanity, +until every mind, decidedly unlike those we daily come in +touch with, or manifesting any extraordinary characteristics +is labelled as diseased. Not only are the less gifted—particularly +criminals—frequently considered as insane, but eminent +writers go so far as to pronounce every mind whose +capacity greatly surpasses the average to be a pathological +subject.</p> + +<p>Such doctrines are examples of a class of errors which +frequently arise from the gradual modification of the meanings +of scientific terms that had never been distinctly apprehended. +Among such terms are those of Genius and Degeneration; +and to analyze these conceptions is the purpose +of this work. Their psychological and psychiatric significations +have, as we shall find, been most diversely conceived, +and this has led to many misunderstandings.</p> + +<p>Before we enunciate our proper theses it will be convenient +briefly to consider the main symptoms of insanity, +so that we may be able to estimate how far we are in a +condition to draw any sharp line of demarcation between +mental sanity and mental disease.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_LIMITS_OF_INSANITY"> + THE LIMITS OF INSANITY. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The symptoms of psychical disorders resemble those of +the body in this: that they are not phenomena absolutely +unlike those of the normal state, but are mere modifications +of the latter. In the vast majority of instances they consist +in a relative augmentation or diminution of healthy conditions, +so that for every symptom of insanity we are able to +point out an analogous normal process of the mind.</p> + +<p>Considering that even in somatic medicine, with the aid +of all the appliances there at our command, we can not +always draw the line between health and disease, we certainly +ought not to expect to do so in every case presented +to psychiatry, concerned as this branch is with a far more +complicated organism than any other department of medicine. +Nor should we draw the limits of health too narrowly; +we have to allow sufficient room for all varieties of +minds.</p> + +<p>Let a sane man undergo a mental shock, say the death of +a near relative. He will experience an intense depression +of feeling, and will very likely be overwhelmed with grief. +The events of the world around him will pass unnoticed, +and things that had excited his interest in the highest degree +will fail to make upon him the slightest impression. +The intensity of this condition will vary with different men. +One will be more susceptible to psychical pains than another. +One will be able to fight down his feelings with his +reason, while another will give himself over to unbridled +grief. But whether in greater degree or less, in some measure, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>in the circumstances supposed, the sane man will always +experience such grief. Complete psychical anæsthesia, or +insensibility, is a symptom of psychical disease. We observe +it in the most diverse forms of insanity.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, it is not unusual to find persons in +whom such a depression of spirits as we have described is +brought on by quite trifling causes. The refusal of a new +dress or seal-skin sack, rainy weather which interferes +with a projected picnic, and things of that description, may +suffice to bring on a shower of tears and to conjure up a +state of despair, or at least of deep mental perturbation. +In fact, this is the regular result with children. But in +adults we call it excessive sensitiveness, or psychical hyperæsthesia. +It is especially met with in hysterical and degenerate +individuals.</p> + +<p>Finally, the same state of deep depression and complete +apathy is also found without the slightest outward reason, +being brought on by inward conditions. In that case we +diagnose a grave psychical malady—to wit, melancholia.</p> + +<p>It is the same with the cheerful emotions. Any sound +man may, upon a particularly joyful occasion, as upon the +successful passage of an examination, or the winning of a +lottery prize, give way to an exuberance of behaviour which +a hysterical or degenerate subject will exhibit upon the most +trifling occasion. But if such a state is brought on without +any external reason whatever, it betokens a form of disease +which may pass into foaming rage; and this we term mania.</p> + +<p>It is just the same with anger, vexation, fear, anxiety, +and other emotions. From the normal psychical action we +pass through successive exaggerations of emotion to a rage +quite without reason but determined by inward conditions.</p> + +<p>Even irrational emotion is not without its analogue within +the latitude of the normal state of our spirits. Almost every +man has his ups and downs of spirits, his greater or less mental +tone. One day, he knows not why, he is in good condition +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>for work; another day he has to force himself to his +duty. An artist says, “It is of no use; I am in no trim for +work to-day; I am not in the mood for it.” If we imagined +curves to be drawn of these moods in different men, we +should find waves of small amplitude even in the most solid +and stolid men of business; while passing to the artists, and +from them to the Skimpoles, and from them, again, to persons +usually called hysterical, the oscillations would be greater +and greater. The slight spontaneous irregularities of temper +of the perfectly sane man will be manifest only to his +most intimate companions; for he will contrive to give his +moods a factitious backing of reason, though this may perhaps +deceive no close observer. But the hysterical, and +those who abandon self-government, will in the wildest fashion +give rein to every freak, quite forgetful of the company +in which they may be. We can, however, assign no +accurate limits to healthy variations. We can not say, At +this point precisely sanity ends and madness begins. There +is no such boundary in Nature. The difference between a +particular disposition and insanity is but a question of more +or less.</p> + +<p>All our impressions, whether of the external world or of +ourselves, are conveyed to us by the sensory-nerves. The +excitation of a sensory-nerve terminal results in a sensation +at the central end of the peripheral nerve, in the brain. +Hence the excitation is propagated to the cortex, or outer +part of the brain, where is the terminus of the sensory +tract; and here the sensation, brayed, as it were, with the +residua of former impressions, is converted into a perception. +Every sensation that has once been worked up into a +perception is capable of being spontaneously or voluntarily +excited anew. The re-excitation or reminiscence of an +image which has so arisen, whether by a peripheral excitation, +or spontaneously, or voluntarily, brings along with it +the recollection of other images. Those connecting nerve +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>fibres, by means of which associated sensations are produced, +are termed associational tracts. The aggregate of a +great multitude of reminiscential images belonging to different +organs of sense makes what we call a perceptual +idea, or percept (<i lang="de">Vorstellung</i>). For example, let the word +<i>bell</i> be mentioned. What does it mean? It brings up the +optical image of a certain cubic curve, the form of the outline +of the bell; it brings up the four letters b e l l; it brings +up the sound the instrument produces; and, finally, it +brings up the sonorous syllable which we are accustomed +to fancy resembles that sound. All these images (and mind, +that in psychology we speak of auditory, olfactory, and +other reminiscences as <em>images</em>) are recalled, and with them +traces of other things associated with bells—some merry +sleighing-party of the hearer’s youth; his wedding-day, perhaps; +the dreadful summons of the people on some occasion +of a fire or of anticipated invasion; and, possibly, some well-remembered +funeral. All these things come welling up to +us, like the swelling of the sound produced by interferences. +Language has no word more vividly significant than <i>bell</i>, +because the more memorial images cluster about an idea, +the clearer will it be, and the easier reproduced, or, in other +words, the more it clings to the memory. If you have to +remember a name you ask to have it written down, because +the auditory image will be more readily reproduced if once +associated with the visual image.</p> + +<p>The more intense and extraordinary an original impression +of sense, the more distinctly will it be reproduced. +But after a while the reproduced image loses its distinctive +characters. It becomes vague, and in that sense weaker. +The remembered sound of the cannon of a distant battlefield, +though not perhaps less loud, is less distinguished +from other remembered sounds, unless, indeed, more recent +experiences refresh our memory.</p> + +<p>The period of time within which a memorial stimulus of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>given power can excite a recollection of given definiteness +varies through a wide range with different individuals. +Within the latitude of health there are good and bad memories, +and memories of different kinds. In pathological +cases, this action of the cortex may sink almost or quite to +zero, or be exaggerated surprisingly.</p> + +<p>As a multitude of impressions are worked together into +an image, and a multitude of images into a perceptual idea, +so a complexus of perceptual ideas has for its resultant a +<em>thought</em>, wherein there is a representation of the way events +happen, in general, and of the relation of our ego to the +macrocosm. Such general conception of the relation between +the inner and outer world makes what the psychologist +means by self-consciousness—or, as it has been called, +the consciousness of consciousness, or superintending-consciousness +(<i lang="de">Oberbewusstsein</i>).</p> + +<p>The procedure of thought is perfected in an arrangement +of ideas in sequence. In the waking state there is a +ceaseless flow of percepts—that is, a continual thinking-process +takes place in the brain. Those percepts are occasionally +excited by the peripheral organs, or they are supplied +by inward excitations following the tracts of association.</p> + +<p>The sequence of percepts may be determined either involuntarily +by spontaneous associations and outward impressions, +or by the active exercise of attention.</p> + +<p>Stimuli from the peripheral organs of sense may be +called <i>centripetal</i> actions, the operations of association <i>intra-central</i>, +and the idea due to the will <i>centrifugal</i>. The function +of this centrifugal action is to bring the ideas into a +regular sequence by excluding unsuitable centripetal percepts, +and by strengthening some associations and weakening +others. In common speech we call this centrifugal +action <i>attention</i>. It fulfils one of the most important offices +of the mind, since without it thought could not be made +purposive.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p> + +<p>The power of attention of a sane man has to be considerable, +so that he may hold his ideas in the right order for a +long time without fatigue. In idiots, on the other hand, it +is occasionally so completely wanting that they can not +swerve the slow current of their ideas. Between these two +extremes every possible grade of this power is met with. +Every teacher of children knows that some of them concentrate +their thoughts with comparatively little difficulty, +while others are at the mercy of every little presentation +in the room or out at the window, as well as of their own +recollections.</p> + +<p>The process of association may follow different principles. +An idea may melt into another inwardly allied to it. +I hear a musical air, for example. This sets all sorts of subconscious +ideas relating to music into motion toward the +surface of consciousness. Some circumstance or other, perhaps +its recent prominence, gives a clear outline, let us +suppose, to the idea of the Magic Flute before the others. +Now, it is particularly ideas of operatic music whose gradual +movement toward emergence is accelerated. I find +myself reviewing several operas; or, if a number of such +ideas emerge at once, a general conception of operatic music +is formed in my mind. Among these pictures, perhaps one +of a grand performance at La Scala may, by its splendour, +obliterate others. By this time my reminiscences of oratorios, +symphonies, chamber music, etc., are sinking back +into slumber, while pictures of various opera houses are +crowding up to the surface. Their multitude prevents my +distinctly dwelling upon any one. The resultant is a general +idea of theatrical architecture. Now memories of other +magnificent pieces of architecture begin to take places in +the composite photograph of my imagination, and as, by the +operation of fatigue, the intense assertiveness of the ideas +which have been longer before my mind wanes, perhaps +the resultant of those that remain leaves me thinking of triumphal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>arches. This is an imaginary example of a train of +association governed chiefly by the principle called <i>resemblance</i>—that +is, by the intrinsic affinities of ideas. Another +principle is that called <i>contiguity</i>, where an idea, A, calls up +another, B, having no inward affinity for it, because the +sequence of B upon A has an analogy, or inward affinity, +with the sequence of <i>b</i> upon <i>a</i>, where <i>b</i> and <i>a</i> are ideas which +occurred at some previous time, <i>b</i> following after <i>a</i>. For +example, I see a porringer, let us say, which I remember to +have used in my childhood. The whole scene straightway +completes itself in my imagination—the chamber, the furniture, +the nurse, appear before me. Thence my fancy is +carried forward to the day when that nurse was married +from the house, and the image of the man she married is +called up. Then follows the picture of a visit I subsequently +made to see how the couple were prospering, etc. +These ideas follow one another because similar ideas did +follow one another upon a former presentation of them. +The principles of resemblance and contiguity may act in +conjunction, as they do in the minds of those who are continually +chasing puns and rhymes. Here ideas the most +incongruous may be associated, because the former recalls +by contiguity a word or phrase which by resemblance calls +forth another word, which in its turn reproduces by contiguity +the second idea. We make use of this sort of association +in mnemonic verses, such as “Thirty days hath September,” +etc. Countless systems of artificial memory repose +on the same principle; and so does the very natural method +of attending to a general rule observable among certain +objects for the sake of remembering the objects themselves.</p> + +<p>The rapidity with which the process of associative reproduction +takes place can be little varied by any effort of +the will. It depends upon the freshness or fatigue of the +nervous system at the time. It differs, too, with different individuals. +Under pathological conditions it may either sink +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>to such a minimum that patients will themselves complain +of their vacuity of mind and mental retardation, or it may +become an abnormal rush of ideas. When the rapidity of +the associative process is slightly increased, the patient feels +extremely well. He is in the mood for brilliant performances, +thoughts fly to him, his conversation sparkles, he improvises, +he impresses those about him as being a witty and +clever man. With a still greater rapidity of associative +action there is such a rush of ideas that they tumble over +one another, lose their logical relations, and end in a delirious +whirl.</p> + +<p>We have thus far considered only cases in which every +idea is excited by a stimulus external or associational. We +now come to a different phenomenon. Almost every man +knows what it is, while endeavouring to think consecutively, +suddenly to have an unwelcome image obtrude itself; perhaps +a musical air which he has of late heard too often repeats +itself in his brain without being led up to at all. We +often hear it said, “I can not get that accursed tune out of +my head.” Phenomena of this kind are to be explained by +the tendency of some part of the cortex which has been excessively +excited to pass into the active condition spontaneously. +In quite an analogous way the most complicated +percepts may spring up spontaneously, breaking into the +normal current of thought. When an idea thus becomes a +continual hindrance to rational thought, we call it an imperative +idea. It forms a disease inflicting, as a rule, great +torment and anguish upon the patient, and leads to further +complications.</p> + +<p>We have said that every sense-perception once experienced +may be reproduced without any new stimulus. Now, +if, independently of any associational process, a reminiscential +image is excited spontaneously with extraordinary +strength, the vividness, or subjective intensity of the idea, +may be so heightened as to take on every characteristic of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>actual perception. Let an excitation run over the path +which leads from the subcortical centre which is the seat of +the primary sensation to the cortical centre of perception, +and whether it have a centrifugal origin, or whether it be +centripetally propagated, the result will ordinarily be the +same—namely, that we shall project the percept into our +idea of the outward world. We shall unhesitatingly accept +the thing we see or the language we hear as real external +experiences, although the whole may be nothing but hallucination.</p> + +<p>The relative intensity with which a given perception can +be reproduced by a given person depends on the intensity +of the original excitation and the degree of attention that +had been originally bestowed upon it. In different persons +the intensity of reproductive power varies exceedingly. It +is low in some minds; while others, especially artists, possess +a very high degree of imagination. Some painters can +at will call up visual images which they proceed to copy +upon their canvas just as if they were painting from Nature; +and a successful writer for the orchestra will seem to hear +the effect of a given combination of instruments, so as to +achieve with unerring certainty results that the greatest +theoretician could not rival.</p> + +<p>Muscular motions are of three kinds—the automatic, the +reflex, and the voluntary. Automatic motions, such as the +beating of the heart and ordinary respiration, are caused +by the action of special centres; and though they may be +influenced by reflex, or even in some measure by voluntary +action, they act, nevertheless, independently. Reflex motions +originate in centres which do not, like the automatic centres, +produce any excitations, but only receive them from +sensory nerves. Examples are the contraction of the pupil +of the eye under increased illumination, and winking upon +any touch of the eyelid.</p> + +<p>To bring about a voluntary motion, a centripetal impulse +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>is ordinarily requisite, to stimulate the psychomotor centre. +Yet it is possible for the excitation to arise within that centre. +Every man has his peculiar tricks, unless he has taken +pains to conquer them. He pulls his beard, or sniffs, or +bites his mustache, or rubs his hands, or gives some peculiar +twitch, more or less annoying to his neighbours, unconsciously +to himself and without any outward stimulus, simply +in consequence of a chronically excited state of some +centre. These excitations are sometimes sufficient to produce +large and co-ordinated motions for which, in ordinary +circumstances, the co-operation of the will would be +requisite. Many people can not sit long still without an +uncontrollable impulse to move about. They jump up from +their work, take a turn or two up and down the room, and +then sit down to their work again.</p> + +<p>Such excitations as these may likewise be exaggerated to +the point of disease. In mania they are seen in their most +extreme form. Patients yell, rage, strike, and smash, without +knowing what they are about.</p> + +<p>Among the most important symptoms of psychical maladies, +often most difficult to recognize, are delusions. The +general public imagines that delusions consist essentially in +believing something that is utterly absurd. Nothing could +be more erroneous. A delusion may be in substance quite +true, while the sheerest nonsense may be produced in the +mind without any delusion. A person may fancy he has a +living creature in his body, and, though it may in fact be +true that he has a tapeworm, yet, if the opinion is not +founded on any sound process of thought, it certainly is +none the less to be classed along with genuine delusions because +it accidentally happens to come true.</p> + +<p>Of three so-called “spiritualists,” let one be a simpleton +who, without any logical conviction, has been led—by sheer +credulity, or weak assent to energetic assertion—to admit +the phenomena of mediumship. Let the second be a learned +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>man who has been imposed upon by legerdemain, and who +endeavours to explain what he thinks he has seen in a scientific +way; and let the third be one with whom the belief is +of the nature of an insane delusion. They all believe the +same thing; so that it can not be said that it is the nature of +what is believed that constitutes the insanity. It is rather +the mode in which the belief has come about, its relation to +the other operations of the mind, its mode of expression, +its relation to the interests of the believer, that must be +relied upon to determine the alienist to diagnose a true +delusion.</p> + +<p>Anomalies of the propensities play a great part in the +pathology of the mind. Like the other symptoms of insanity, +abnormal impulses are but quantitative or qualitative +modifications of healthy conditions. Psychiatry has never +discovered any new passion. The appetites vary greatly in +different individuals; and here again we must take care to +allow sufficient latitude to healthy variations. The feeling +of hunger, or the propensity to eat, may in the most diverse +psychical disorders be enormously exalted. This is called +hyperorexia. It sometimes goes so far that the patient tries +to devour whatever he can lay hands on. This is called +sitomania. On the other hand, the propensity may be distinctly +lowered in intensity or even lost. This is called +anorexia. Of course, none of these states includes cases in +which the modification of the appetite is caused by derangements +of the organs of digestion. Finally, the desire for food +may be directed to strange substances, as often happens to +pregnant women. In the insane this perversion of appetite +will sometimes be so great as to induce them to eat straw, +earth, worms, and even their own filth.</p> + +<p>We sometimes find the other propensities equally deranged. +The sexual impulse may be exalted to the highest +degree—a state called satyriasis in men, nymphomania in +women. The sexual appetite may be depressed or lost in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>total impotence. It may be perverted to one’s own sex or to +other things.</p> + +<p>I must apologize for this general description of the symptoms +of insanity, which does not directly concern the subject +of this book. I have entered upon it for the purpose +of showing that, in order to determine the state of mental +sanity or insanity, it does not suffice to produce certain extraordinary +or absurd modes of behaviour or temper; that +we can hardly pronounce a man to be insane from any conduct +until we know what his motives are; and, finally, that +we are not to judge from a part of his mental actions, but +must get a clear notion of his whole mental condition. I +have further endeavoured to show that, as far as single +symptoms go, no sharp line of demarcation can be drawn +between mental sanity and insanity. Just as there are +physically strong men and physically weak men, men of +large bodies and men of puny bodies, so within the limits +of health there are mental athletes and mental weaklings. +Moreover, just as no two men are in person counterparts +the one of the other, so there are no two whose characters +are precisely alike. There are perfectly healthy men with +extraordinary physiognomies or peculiarities of bodily +structure; and in like manner unusual traits of character +are to be met with. The study of such men may be interesting +to the psychologist, but it does not directly concern +the pathology of the mind.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_PSYCHOLOGY_OF_GENIUS"> + THE PSYCHOLOGY OF GENIUS. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It is plain from the nature of psychology, as well as from +its history, that it has to contend with difficulties and perplexities +of a magnitude and character with which no other +observational science is perplexed. An immediate acquaintance +with psychical conditions can only be obtained by self-observation; +so that this has always formed the foundation +of the scientific edifice. Nor can any generalization of observation +possibly be attained except by means of the concepts +derived from self-observation. This entails the great +disadvantage that there is wanting to psychology the objectivity +of the observation, in that the subject and object +thereof are one person. This is yet further increased by +the impossibility of repeating any observation, so that in +psychology we lack almost entirely one of the most important +aids of natural sciences—namely, experiment.</p> + +<p>Our knowledge of the physiology of the human body has +been so much enriched by pathological facts that we may +truly say that some branches of it would, as far as we can +see, have remained forever closed books if the effects of +disease had not been observed. So it is with psychology, +in its turn. Since mental disease has been systematically +studied the science of the mind has undergone a veritable +revolution. Psychology and psychiatry are to-day inseparably +connected. Neither could survive, were the bond +between them severed.</p> + +<p>Psychology began by being largely speculative. It preserved +this character for quite a lengthy period. It has, in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>more modern times, passed into paths essentially different, +and stands to-day, side by side with the other positive +sciences, upon the solid ground of critical observation. +Partly, though only to a moderate extent, it has entered +upon experimental investigations.</p> + +<p>Every observational science, after having effected a preliminary +rough analysis of the ordinary facts, has fastened +its scrutiny upon extreme cases and apparent departures +from the uniformities of the matter in hand. From a study +of these varieties and from a comparison of them with ordinary +cases, it brings forth fresh knowledge. Psychologists +are beginning to do this; and especially of late years +much attention has been bestowed upon those extraordinary +powers which we ordinarily indicate by the word +genius.</p> + +<p>The results of these inquiries are thus far as diverse as +possible, and, just as in former scientific controversies, leading +men assume attitudes of almost flat contradiction. Let +us see whether we can not, with the investigations already +at our command, attain a clearer conception of the concept +of genius.</p> + +<p>As the etymology of the word, which is derived from +<i>genius</i> or <i lang="la">ingenium</i>, directly indicates, the ancients believed, +according to their view of the world, that within persons of +eminence—those men who guided the destinies of nations +or were able to accomplish phenomenal deeds in the domains +of art or science—a divine spirit dwelt. A <i>genius</i>, +for example, spoke to the people through the mediumship +of the Pythian priestess; a divine spirit opened to Socrates +the fountains of knowledge and science, and inspired +Homer with divine song, enabling him to perceive the +world as a magnificent fulness of ideals and beauties. It +conducted Miltiades through the tumult of battle to glorious +victory and smoothed for Plato the path to eternal +wisdom.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span></p> + +<p>This idealistic method of viewing things has been transmitted +from century to century down to our own time. In +the saints of the Middle Ages we see the idea of the Holy +Ghost corporealized. By the mouths of priests and prophets +“God” speaks to the people. Rulers are invested with +“divine right.” They rule by the “divine will.” The +powerful thinkers who guide the world by great discoveries +are filled with “divine grace.” In those who by their art +embellish the world there shone a “divine spark,” a fragment +of the Holy Ghost. By their mouths God spoke to +men. Genius was eternal and incomprehensible. Its knowledge +and power were infinite.</p> + +<p>Modern science has applied the dissecting knife to this +fantastic web of speculative philosophy, has analyzed the +whole matter into its elementary constituents, stripped the +natural phenomena of their habiliments of superstition and +mysticism, and, while thus destroying many a beloved ideal, +acts in the consciousness that it is struggling after real +knowledge and truth.</p> + +<p>Psychology, having by self-observation laid down a +series of conceptions, and having attained the knowledge +that psychical processes, like all other phenomena of Nature, +are subject to definite law, made an effort to determine the +laws of the mental processes of genius, and to frame a definition +of genius, which should take into account facts which +are now scientifically established.</p> + +<p>But these efforts are characterized by the same mighty +error and the same important defect that has ere this provoked +many a battle between scientific men. In vain had +philosophers for several ages endeavoured to say in what +genius consisted, until in these latter times some authors +believe they have discovered the philosopher’s stone and +have pronounced genius to be a variety of insanity. Unfortunately, +they were not themselves clear about the definition +of genius nor, perhaps, about that of insanity.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span></p> + +<p>An accurate science ought to provide names only for +known phenomena. It might view a complex of phenomena +as one object, and apply to it a collective name. Having +done so, it can again perform specification within the +limits of the <i>genus</i>. But science shall always go wrong and +shall exercise itself about phantoms, if it accepts <i lang="la">a priori</i> +some word or other as something laid down, so to speak, +independently, and then tries to call forth from the phenomena +sufficient material whereby to explain a notion somehow +made inherent in this word.</p> + +<p>To so plain a truth one might hesitate to refer. And +yet how often has science sinned against it! Innumerable +tomes, for example, have been written on the inquiry of +whether the human will is <em>free</em> or determined. Quarrels, +bitter to the point of persecution, have been indulged in by +high authorities upon this question. Finally, it has been +proved to be merely a contest about “words,” for each +individual combined with the word “will” some different +notion regarding which he himself never for an instant was +clear. Nowhere is this error of science better expressed +than in the words of Goethe:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Student.</i> But every word must have some sense exact.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Mephistopheles.</i> Of course; but let not that your mind distract;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For oft to fill the meaning’s awkward blank,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A serviceable word we have to thank.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With words we gloriously may dispute,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With words a system constitute;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Words will suffice for faith unshaken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For from the Word shall jot nor tittle e’er be taken.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Many authors make any person endowed with specially +excellent mental powers a genius. Thus Sulzer, in his dictionary,⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_2" href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> +says: “Genius seems to be ascribed to any man +who, in departments for which he shows a natural turn, displays +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>remarkable skill and a more copious fertility of mind +than other men.... Genius seems at bottom to be nothing +but great general power of mind; so that ‘a great mind’ +and ‘a man of genius’ are synonymous terms.” Du Bos⁠<a id="FNanchor_3_3" href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> +defines genius as “the natural skill by which a man is enabled +to perform certain things well and easily that other +men, whatever pains they may take, can only do ill.” Riedel,⁠<a id="FNanchor_4_4" href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> +Feder,⁠<a id="FNanchor_5_5" href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> Baumgarten,⁠<a id="FNanchor_6_6" href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> and others express themselves +to the same effect. Herder⁠<a id="FNanchor_7_7" href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> says: “Everybody knows that +genius is nothing but the intensive or extensive quantity of +psychical power exerted.” A struggling sort of definition, +conceived in the same strain, is thus formulated by Flögel:⁠<a id="FNanchor_8_8" href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> +“Genius is unquestionably an attribute of the faculty of +cognition, for no inclination for an art or a science will induce +us to say of the man that feels it that he has genius.” +This marvellous utterance is rendered somewhat more intelligible +by the definition of the cognitive faculty that immediately +follows it: “The faculty of cognition is a tree with +many branches. Attention, memory, abstraction, wit, discrimination, +understanding, and reason, by whatever names +they may be called, belong to cognition. Experience shows +that these different branches or parts are not all equally developed, +but that one may in a given man preponderate over +another. One man has more wit than discrimination; another +has good sense but a poor memory; a third has a +solid understanding but a deficiency of imagination. Thus, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>there is a certain degree of repugnancy between a man’s different +cognitive powers; and it is their proportion which +constitutes a man’s genius in its widest sense. In this sense +every man has his genius.” He continues thus: “We are +accustomed to deny genius to numberless men. We deny it +to learned men who have written libraries; and it would be +equally out of place to speak of an author as a genius who +had only written a few pages in which a moderate enthusiasm +was displayed. We associate the term genius with +something great, something superior in its way. Whatever +capacity in a man seems great, pre-eminent, of singular force, +distinguishing him from average brains, is called genius, without +qualification. If this superiority belongs to all he does, +we say the man has universal genius; if it is confined to certain +directions, we call it special or peculiar genius.” Wieland⁠<a id="FNanchor_9_9" href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> +divides genius into three kinds: the genius of pleasing, +which operates within the domain of the graces and consists +in a special facility for carrying out the ideas it prosecutes; +philosophical genius, which consists in a capacity for +discovering those truths resulting from correct conceptions +which concern the felicity of mankind; and practical genius, +which consists in a ready activity in availing itself of known +facts and in producing the highest and most prompt resolutions. +But there is no psychological foundation for this arbitrary +division of the phenomena. Here, again, it is the mere +greatness and pre-eminence of the achievements, without +reference to their psychical origin, which is made to constitute +the essence of genius. H. Joly⁠<a id="FNanchor_10_10" href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> says that genius +is “creative power, using this term in the relative sense in +which alone it is permissible to apply it. It is the production +of something which the combined efforts of other men +have hitherto been powerless to effect. It is that which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>puts at the disposition of humanity either means of expression, +or means of talent and invention, or means of new action, +which add something to the common intelligence and +common power.”</p> + +<p>The conception of genius of all these authors is even in +conflict with that of ordinary language, for which genius +and talent are qualitatively different. If those authors are +right, genius and talent are merely different degrees of the +same quality. However this may be, according to the +above definition, the word genius has, generally speaking, +not much value as a psychological term.</p> + +<p>The inadequacy of such a view to meet the popular notion +being recognised, efforts have been made to find something +specially characteristic of genius. A great many +philosophers have taken originality to be such a characteristic. +Weise⁠<a id="FNanchor_11_11" href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> says: “All writers upon genius agree that +invention is its essential mark.” Many authors seem quite +to forget that the point is to establish a psychological conception, +proceeding rather as if they had to accord a title or +order for some special service. Thus Alexander Gerard⁠<a id="FNanchor_12_12" href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> +adopts the view that everybody who makes an invention, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>whether valuable or useless, and everybody who has an +original idea of any description, must be a genius. According +to this, any fool who gives birth to original absurdities +must be reckoned as a genius. In conflict with those passages +is the subsequent remark of the same author, that “invention +is the capacity of producing new beauties in works +of art and new truths in matters of science.” Apart from +the arbitrary character of this definition of the word “invention,” +it is in distinct conflict with the above extract, which +does not harmonize with such a definition.</p> + +<p>Many authors express substantially the same opinion. +Flögel,⁠<a id="FNanchor_13_13" href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> for example, says: “Down to Newton the colorific +effects of prisms had probably been looked upon as a pretty +amusement for children, unworthy the attention of philosophers; +but that great mind founded upon these phenomena +that acute theory of colours which by itself would have +sufficed to win for him the title of genius had he been +great (?) in nothing else.” The author talks as if genius +were a rank like that of major or privy counsellor. Kant,⁠<a id="FNanchor_14_14" href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> +too, quotes with approval the definition of genius as the +“exemplary originality of a man’s talent.” Hagen⁠<a id="FNanchor_15_15" href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> says: +“Originality, therefore, constitutes genius.... To me, accordingly, +genius is the synonym of mind, but with the +implication that the mental idiosyncrasy of the super-eminent +individual is intended.... Now, in so far as every +man has a mental individuality, he has a mind distinct from +every other and is an original thinker. He has a mind of +his own.... By genius, in the narrow and ordinary sense, +we mean a mind of the first order endowed with a high +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>originality of conception, of discovery, and of creative impulse.”</p> + +<p>This conception of genius may, perhaps, accord better +with common language than the previous one. At any rate, +it furnishes the requisite qualitative distinction between +genius and talent. Our present study, however, is not ordinary +language. We are inquiring whether this definition +creates a precise psychological concept of scientific value. +Now, the concept of originality has nothing to do with +psychical characteristics; it refers exclusively to outward +facts. Originality may be produced by the most diverse +psychical processes; and the same dispositions of mind +may in one case lead to originality and in another not; since +this is in no small measure an accident of the outward situation. +A child is original at the period when its mind is +awakening, when the more complex ideas of the world have +not yet been apprehended, but primitive images are in his +artless fashion fused together. That is why the speeches of +children so often seem witty and excite smiles on the faces +of the grown people who hear them. When we say a man +is an “original” we often mean to imply that he is weak-minded +and deficient in perception, not clearly understanding +situations, and all his life long a foreigner to the world. +So are those conceited fools original who, because their behaviour +and propensities depart widely from commonsense, +live in perpetual astonishment at their own genius. For example, +the author of a recent book, intended to convince +society that clothes should be discarded and men and +women should go naked, was a genius, according to Gerard’s +definition. A man publishes far and wide that he can +cure all the ills that flesh is heir to by simply making people +walk about barefoot over wet meadows. What a genius! +And the prophet’s success, too, as regards the main chance, +shows that the multitude honor him as a genius.</p> + +<p>As we have seen, it has not taken long to learn that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>originality does not <i>per se</i> constitute genius. Hence common +consent has agreed more accurately to define and limit +the “originality of genius.” But in doing this, merely the +outward phenomenon is treated; and in the most favorable +circumstances some symptom only comes to be considered, +instead of the causes and source of the fact being +reached. To originality is added the further condition that +“beauties” and “truths” (as Gerard said) must be produced +to entitle it to the name of genius. So Weise⁠<a id="FNanchor_16_16" href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> says: +“Genius is the immediate attraction of an individual in the +harmonious concurrence of his mental and physical powers +to the production of an ideal and typical work of intellect.” +Many authors require that genius shall be “epoch-making,” +that its achievements shall be “agreeable” or “useful,” etc. +Gerard demands that artistic genius shall “please” and +shall “gratify the taste”: “Objects and circumstances unfit +to please, either do not at all occur to the artist or, being +perceived at a glance to be unfit, are immediately rejected.” +Dr. Blair says in his Lectures on Rhetoric (written about +1760), Lecture III:</p> + +<p>“Genius always imports something inventive or creative, +which does not rest in mere sensibility to beauty where it is +perceived, but which can, moreover, produce new beauties, +and exhibit them in such a manner as strongly to impress +the minds of others.”</p> + +<p>Thus, instead of returning to psychical causes, in such +attempts to particularize the conditions, authors depart +further and further from those causes, and dwell more and +more upon the invention of others. Is there anything +“beautiful” or “good” <i>per se</i>? Do these words express +anything but a conformity to the ideas that are in fashion, +but which at different periods vary monstrously? Is taste +anything more than a personal preference? If the term +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>genius is to be made contingent upon such wavering standards +and the variable feelings of others, it must follow that +many an individual will at certain periods of history be pronounced +a genius to whom other generations will deny the +epithet. So genius will lose all meaning as a psychological +term; for if it is to be any character of the mind, the conception +of it must be constructed and defined from within, +and not be dependent upon outward circumstances.</p> + +<p>Upon such outward circumstances originality is in part +essentially dependent. Many great and useful discoveries +and inventions have been due to accident solely. Many investigators +have by a happy concatenation of circumstances +been led into a line of study which has brought them to discoveries +which have remained hidden from much higher +minds. When the microscope was first discovered it was +only necessary to apply it to any tissue of living matter to +make great and important discoveries. So, too, as a matter +of fact, a large number of discoveries are ascribed to persons +who, under conditions other than those under which +they were made, might perhaps in no way have particularly +distinguished themselves. The possibility of originality is +in many branches of art narrowly limited; and the chance +of being original depends very much upon how far precursors +have exhausted the department. In practical music we +speak of a “brilliant rendering” (<i lang="de">geniale Auffassung</i>). Now, +I ask whether a musician who executes a sonata of Beethoven +according to his conception of it, is less a genius because +others before him have had the same idea of it. Or is +a musician a genius because, in his desire to be original and +to be applauded as a genius, he does not reproduce the +work of the composer, but rather a parody upon it? Often +enough this is actually done nowadays.</p> + +<p>Those inquirers who have sought to penetrate to the +psychological laws of genius, and have sought to explain its +phenomena upon recognised psychological principles, have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>been obliged at last to acknowledge that they had to do +with the most diverse psychical conditions, which have +been promiscuously labelled as genius. Even Gerard, in his +psychological analysis, found himself at last compelled to +recognise two essentially different varieties of genius—“genius +for science” and “genius for the arts.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_17_17" href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> But he +shows very plainly the error into which he had fallen. Instead +of recognising that these two classes refer to utterly +unlike psychical conditions, he again resorts to external +circumstances to explain their difference, saying: “Some +difference between genius for science and genius for the arts +arises necessarily from the very diversity of their ends.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_18_18" href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> +This is obviously putting the cart before the horse. He +ought rather to say, “The diversity of their ends arises from +different sources—genius for science and genius for the +arts.”</p> + +<p>Helvetius⁠<a id="FNanchor_19_19" href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> likewise comes to the conclusion that different +kinds of genius differ psychologically. “Few men have +perceived that these metaphors (fire, inspiration, etc.), applicable +to certain kinds of genius, such as that for poetry +and for eloquence, are not at all so to the genius for reflection, +such as that of Locke and Newton.” But, in spite +of his quite correct view that the psychical conditions +requisite for a man of science and a poet are utterly different, +he nevertheless endeavours to frame a definition which +shall include both these dissimilar cases.⁠<a id="FNanchor_20_20" href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> Instead, therefore, +of accounting for phenomena in scientific concepts, he +avails himself of a loose usage of speech as the guide of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>inquiries, and so comes to the conclusion that “invention” +and the “making of an epoch” are the kernel of all genius.</p> + +<p>Radestock,⁠<a id="FNanchor_21_21" href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> to mention one more among many, expresses +a similar opinion: “And yet there are certain characteristics +common to all genius—to wit, originality and +the height of creative power. Different kinds of genius are +only distinguished in a secondary manner by their objects +and the spheres within which they are exercised.” Here is +the same inversion of cause and effect as in Gerard.</p> + +<p>Investigation having made it clear that common language +throws together under the one head of genius elements +the most heterogeneous, science reaches this parting +of the ways—either to discard the concept entirely as scientifically +useless, or to limit it to one definitely describable +combination of psychological conditions.</p> + +<p>Kant and Schopenhauer, recognising this fact, restricted +genius to art. Schopenhauer⁠<a id="FNanchor_22_22" href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> showed that totally different +psychical conditions would make an artist on the one +hand, and a man of learning on the other; so that it was not +admissible to call them both by the same name. Here is one +of his remarks: “The work of genius has always been regarded +as an inspiration, as the word itself implies, as the +work of a superhuman being different from the person and +only periodically taking possession of him. Experience +shows, too, that the greatest artistic geniuses have no capacity +for mathematics. There never lived a man distinguished +in both particulars. Alfieri relates that he never could advance +beyond the fourth proposition of Euclid. Goethe has +been reproached enough with his lack of mathematical +knowledge. Thus, also, is explained the notorious want of +artistic sensibility in all distinguished mathematicians. A +great French mathematician, on hearing the Iphigénie of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>Racine, exclaimed, ‘What does that prove?’ Great genius +is seldom combined with predominance of reason; on the +contrary, men of genius are particularly subject to overpowering +sentiments and irrational passions.”</p> + +<p>It must be confessed that the limitation of genius to artistic +power has met with general disapprobation among the +later authors who have written upon the subject. Jürgen +Bona Meyer⁠<a id="FNanchor_23_23" href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> assures us that there is such a thing as scientific +genius; and so do other authors who have not reconciled +themselves to this limitation of the common mode of speech. +Since Kant and Schopenhauer, people continue to attribute +genius to scientists, just as they did before.</p> + +<p>Thus the question whether the popular word genius can +be used as a scientific term can only be decided by a psychological +analysis of those poets, composers, painters, virtuosos, +actors, scholars, statesmen, and generals who have generally +been reckoned as geniuses. That analysis performed, comparison +will show whether they have any common characteristic, +such as justifies us in comprehending such persons under +one psychological concept.</p> + +<p>Famous poets, observant of their own inward conditions, +have often said that their works were composed as in a dream, +unknown to themselves; that, instead of being deliberately +constructed, their ideas have, as it were, flown to them.</p> + +<p>Goethe says: “There is a sense in which it is true that +poets, and indeed all true artists, must be born, not made. +Namely, there must be an inward productive power to bring +the images that linger in the organs, in the memory, in the +imagination, freely, without purpose or will, to life. The +ideas must unfold themselves, grow, extend, and accumulate +in order to become no longer fugitive diagrams, but living +pictures.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span></p> + +<p>Voltaire, on seeing one of his tragedies performed, exclaimed: +“Was it really I who wrote that?” Lamartine +said: “It is not I who think, but my ideas which think for +me.” Of Werther, Goethe said: “Having written this little +book somewhat unconsciously, like a sleepwalker, I could +not help wondering, in lately reading it over, whether I +should find anything in it to alter and improve.”</p> + +<p>Schiller writes to Körner: “It is not well in works of +creation that reason should too closely challenge the ideas +that come thronging to the doors. Taken by itself, an idea +may be highly unsuitable, even venturesome, and yet in conjunction +with others, themselves equally absurd alone, it may +furnish a suitable link in the chain of thought. Reason can +not see this unless it carefully considers the idea in its connections. +In a creative brain reason has withdrawn her +watch at the doors, and ideas crowd in pell-mell.”</p> + +<p>Bettinelli says: “The happy moment for the poet may be +called a dream—dreamed in the presence of the intellect, +which stands by and gazes with open eyes at the performance.”</p> + +<p>“Schiller,” says Vischer, in his treatise upon Esthetics,⁠<a id="FNanchor_24_24" href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> +“annotating a passage in Schelling, energetically requires +that the poet should begin his work unconsciously, and says +that he ought to consider himself fortunate if, after a consecutive +and distinct consideration of what he is about, he +does not find himself set back, or if he finds his finished +work as good as the obscure but powerful impression from +which he set out. Schiller himself, who fluttered midway +between thought and intuition, complains that theory and +criticism quench his ardour, and that when he sees himself at +work creating and constructing, his imagination is embarrassed, +and does not perform with the same freedom as it +had done when nobody was looking over its shoulder.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span></p> + +<p>Jean Paul Richter had, perhaps, the above passage of +Goethe in his mind when he wrote:⁠<a id="FNanchor_25_25" href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> “Genius is, in more +senses than one, a sleepwalker, and in its bright dream can +accomplish what one who woke could never do. It mounts +every height of reality in the dark; but bring it out of its +world of dreams, and it stumbles.” The last clause contains +an observation that Goethe also had made upon himself +and which he describes as follows: “It had happened to +me so often that I would repeat a song to myself and then +be unable to recollect it; that sometimes I would run to my +desk and, without taking time to lay my paper straight, +would, without stirring from my place, write out the poem +from beginning to end, slopingly. For the same reason I +always preferred to write with a pencil, on account of its +marking so readily. On several occasions, indeed, the +scratching and spluttering of my pen awoke me from my +somnambulistic poetizing and distracted me so that it suffocated +a little product in its birth. I had a particular +reverence for such pieces, like a hen for her brood of +chickens pipping around her.”</p> + +<p>Klopstock says himself that he got many of the ideas of +his Messiah in dreams.</p> + +<p>Voltaire wrote to Diderot:⁠<a id="FNanchor_26_26" href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> “It must be confessed that +in the arts of genius instinct is everything. Corneille composed +the scene between Horatius and Curiatius just as a +bird builds its nest, except that the bird always builds well, +while with us poor feeble little creatures that is not the case.”</p> + +<p>Upon what does this instinctive creating, this unconscious +poetizing, this spontaneous emerging of thought, that +we meet with in so many great poets, depend?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span></p> + +<p>In our first chapter we recognised two different kinds of +processes of thought—voluntary thinking, in which the +sequence of ideas is determined by the will, and involuntary +thinking, which takes place in a purely associative +way. This last we may term <i>fancy</i>. The two processes +have, in truth, no sharp delimitation. We may conceive +the process of thought to be an action of fancy with varying +activity of the will, from the weakest to the strongest +grade. So Wundt⁠<a id="FNanchor_27_27" href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> speaks of an active and a passive +fancy. “Our fancy,” says he, “is passive when we allow +the play of ideas to go as it will, beginning with any complete +idea. It is active when our will sifts out the ideas +that are produced, and thus purposively brings about a +new whole.” In the present work we shall use the word +<i>fancy</i> without qualification to denote a passive involuntary +train of ideas; while a purposive sequence of ideas, or +voluntary thought, shall be termed <i>intellectual function</i> +(<i lang="de">Verstandesthätigkeit</i>).</p> + +<p>Involuntary thought is frequently described by the poets +as unconscious. That can not be accurate, for “unconscious +thought” is a contradictory phrase. Not even a dream can +be said to be unconscious, whether it be purely ideal, like +most dreams, or produce action, as in sleepwalking. In +such a state self-consciousness alone is suspended, not consciousness +itself. It is true that § 51 of the German criminal +code pronounces actions performed unconsciously to be +unpunishable; but that is psychologically incorrect. A person +is unconscious in a deep swoon or occasionally in a +stupor. But actions are never performed without being +connected with ideas; this it is that distinguishes them from +automatic and reflex motions. Now, ideas form a part of +consciousness. Ideas without consciousness are therefore +inconceivable. The paragraph of the criminal code ought +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>to read: “Actions performed while self-consciousness is suspended +shall not be punished.” So when a poet tells us he +has composed verses while in a state of unconsciousness or +as in a dream, similar considerations show how we are to +understand his language.</p> + +<p>Fancy stands half-way between dreaming and active intellectual +function. The latter depends directly on the will, +while in the former the will is in total abeyance. Purposive +thought is like a ship with a strong rudder which follows +every turning and winding and can be carried through the +narrowest straits. A dream is a rudderless hulk wandering +hither and thither, the play of the winds and waves. Fancy +is a ship which, with its sails set, wends its way over the +deep, moving like a ghost with no visible impulse, yet +directed toward its destined port. The will takes part in +fancy, but behaves more passively than actively. It removes +all hindrances which might confuse the thoughts +and prevent ideas from forming a harmonious whole.</p> + +<p>All men exercise the above-described action of fancy. In +ordinary men it makes daydreams, which everybody recognises +to be opposed to purposive thought. All that fancy +produces depends on former impressions of sense. It is +powerless to create anything new; its products are mere +combinations in memory of the residua of former impressions. +They may be unlikely enough, and in that sense it +may be true that its products are “original.” But this does +not conflict with the facts alleged.</p> + +<p>As in a kaleidoscope a relatively small number of bits of +broken glass can enter into most manifold combinations and +produce the most diverse images, so the residua of former +impressions of sense can, by means of fancy, combine into +the most variegated mixture of original ideas. If a kaleidoscope +contains only a small number of morsels of glass of +tolerably large size, the images will be relatively monotonous +and small in variety; but if it contains smaller and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>more numerous pieces of glass, the images will be more +manifold and more variegated. In an analogous way, a rich +fancy, as we call it, is able to dissect the sense-impressions +that are received into their smallest constituents, and to +fuse them together into infinitely numerous new shapes. If +this faculty is combined with a great facility of association +and imagination, it will result in that lively and creative +action of fancy which we find in the poet.</p> + +<p>The daydreams of ordinary men are mostly uninteresting. +But in a man with a cultivated and refined fancy, daydreams +will bring those creative thoughts of genius, in +which fancy reveals itself <i lang="la">a posteriori</i> to his knowledge. +Hence it is that he seems to himself to have created his +ideas unawares. He seems, like an objective spectator, to +see the poem spring up within him.</p> + +<p>This state of fancy, which depends upon an ordinary +psychical process, not qualitatively different from the mental +process of common men, but only differing quantitatively, +is that which gave rise to mystical explanations and to the +belief in supernatural processes. Kant remarks: “The reason +why exemplary originality of talent receives that mystical +title is that the subject of it can not himself explain +its eruptions, or that he finds himself in possession of an art +which he could not have learned and which he can not comprehend. +For invisibility (the cause of an effect) is an attribute +of the mind (a genius with which the gifted person is +endowed from his birth) whose inspiration, as it were, he +only follows.” So Vischer says: “We apply to it the name +of inspiration, an expression recalling a mystical idea, the +flow of which only begins here to grow into a river in its +further advance. The ancients, for whom the unknown upon +the limits of self-knowledge appeared so strange as to be the +work of God, thought it was really inspiration. The poet is +inflated with the Muse, he is <span lang="grc">ἔνθεος, θεόπνευστος, κατεχόμενος, +ἐκστατικός</span>, he is snatched away by the goddess <span lang="grc">ὑπὸ θείης +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>ἐξαλλαγῆς</span>, out of himself, <span lang="grc">ἔξω ἑαυτοῦ</span>, he is breathed upon, +<span lang="grc">ἐπίπνοια</span>.”</p> + +<p>It is this creative and somewhat independent power of +fancy which lends to the work of art its character of originality; +and hence it is that many inquirers have found in +that the essence of genius.</p> + +<p>Garve⁠<a id="FNanchor_28_28" href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> expresses himself emphatically upon this point. +“Nothing,” he says, “is harder to ascertain than the peculiarity +of a particular mind, especially of a great mind, and +most of all of a genius. All perfections of the mind consist +in certain perfections of thoughts; or, rather, we only know +as many differences and superiorities of capacities and powers +as we find of differences and grades of eminence in the +ideas. There is hardly any way to describe the character of +a capacity except by describing the origin and mode of formation +of the thoughts which are peculiar to that faculty. +This can only be done in so far as these thoughts follow +other thoughts—i. e., are reflections and after-thoughts. But +when they seem to spring immediately out of the power of +the soul, when the higher or previous suggesting thoughts +are not to be found even by the man who had the idea in +question, our inquiry comes to an end, as inquiries always +do when, in place of tracing one effect from another, we are +brought up to the actual force. Now, thoughts of that kind +are precisely such as are ascribed to genius, a word signifying +the source of those ideas which have not been gradually +elaborated, but have sprung up in a night from the soil of +the soul.”</p> + +<p>Jürgen Bona Meyer says: “Talent, being self-conscious, +knows the why and wherefore of its conclusions and principles. +But for genius all that is in darkness. Nothing is +more unconscious and involuntary than the process of thought +of genius.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span></p> + +<p>Although, as we shall soon see, this creative fancy is +not sufficient by itself to produce a poetic genius, and, as we +shall at the same time see, the degree of its development is +not always proportional to the greatness of the poet, yet it +must be granted that the action of fancy is an indispensable +psychical ingredient of every poet. We are confirmed in +this opinion by the fact that those poets who only possess it +in small or inconsiderable amounts themselves lament the +want of it as a misfortune. When Lessing confesses there is +no living spring within him which wells up fresh, rich, and +pure, but that everything has to be pumped up with straining +and groaning, he simply denies his own possession of the +proper organ of poesy. Schiller complained that theory and +criticism had damaged the free play of his fancy. When +Wieland had once reproached him with want of facility he +wrote: “While I am at work I feel only too keenly that he +is right; yet I feel, too, where the fault lies, and I hope that +I shall be able to improve very much in that respect. Ideas +do not flow richly enough to me, however luxuriant my +works turn out; and until I write them down my ideas are +not clear.”</p> + +<p>Here, then, is a very important mental difference between +poets of high rank. While in Goethe the mainstay +of his artistic power was the free play of fancy, with Schiller +the turning point was a power of intellectual function which, +in his own words, often choked the luxuriance of his fancy.</p> + +<p>From this fact we can draw the corollary that however +indispensable to a poet fancy may be, it is not a synonym of +poetic greatness; for Schiller is undeniably a greater poet +than many another whose fancy is under no such intellectual +inhibition.</p> + +<p>The psychological analysis of famous poets will show that +the intellectual function is no whit less important a factor +of poetic genius than fancy itself, although the latter is the +one immediately employed in the act of composition. We +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>have seen that creative fancy works with the material which +former impressions of sense have left behind as their remains +or residua. The more comprehensive the knowledge +of the poet, therefore, and the more he is in condition to +assimilate and compact the impressions the world conveys +to him, and the sounder and truer his judgments of persons +and situations, and the more methodical his thought and the +better his memory, by so much the more will his fancy display +luxuriance, and by so much more various will be his +creations.</p> + +<p>Lessing⁠<a id="FNanchor_29_29" href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> falls into error when he says: “It is permitted +to genius not to know a thousand things that +every schoolboy knows; for it is not the provision with +which his memory is stored, but what he can bring forth +out of his own feeling, that constitutes his wealth.” On the +contrary, the really great poet is usually marked by solid +erudition and thorough comprehension of the world. Of +course, there are fools enough who fancy they need learn +nothing, that their genius has only to walk forth naked in its +own stately form, and that erudition would be but a detriment +to its creativeness. But these are unfortunates, of +whom we shall treat in another chapter of this book. +Goethe hit them off in the following epigram:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Says Zigzag, in his latest book,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Within no school have I a nook;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From living wight no thoughts I’ve took;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still less to dead men do I look.”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He means, unless I’ve much mistook,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“I’m just a crank on my own hook.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_30_30" href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p> + +<p>Kant, too, says that genius must undergo the “constraint +of the school” (<i lang="de">Zwang des Studiums</i>). “To free imagination +from this constraint and to allow one’s peculiar talent +to rove about in wild disorder, contrary to the laws +of Nature, might betoken, perhaps, a great original madness.”</p> + +<p>Goethe very clearly pictures the sources from which his +own rich fancy drew the materials of its creations. “The +greatest genius would be worthless without external aids. +For what, after all, is genius but the capacity to seize every +opportunity, to make use of everything that falls in our +way, to impart form and life to whatever matter may be +put within its reach, to take here marble, there earth, and +out of them to build a lasting monument? Where, for +example, should I be, or what would be left of me, if that +sort of appropriation should cast a prejudice upon genius? +What have I done? I have gathered and used whatever +I have seen, heard, or observed. I have laid claim to +the works of Nature and of man. To every one of my +writings a thousand persons and a thousand different things +have contributed. Old and young, gentle and simple, +wise and foolish have brought their quotas. Mostly without +being aware of it, they have bestowed upon me their +thoughts, their faculties, and their experiences, sowing +the grain that I have reaped. My work is an assemblage +of essences which have been derived from the course +of Nature. This bears the name of ‘Goethe.’... Foolish +men! They remind me of a certain philosopher of my +part of the country who fancied that if he were to imprison +himself in his study for thirty years, and there +sift and beat out the ideas which he would draw from +his own poor brain, he would obtain a wonderful mine +of originality! What came of it, think ye? Clouds, +and only clouds!... I was long enough so silly as to +grieve over these absurdities; but now in my old age I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>may be permitted to make merry over them and laugh at +them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_31_31" href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Another psychical phenomenon, besides fancy and intellectual +function, surprises us in famous poets—to wit: a refinement +of the feelings, heart, and moods. We often find +these qualities developed in great poets to a point we can +scarcely imagine. The mere contemplation of a work of +art may move them to tears. In Heine, music produced a +peculiar mood which excited him to versification. Alfieri +described his mood while writing poetry as a sort of soft +fever. When Goethe read in Schiller’s family for the first +time the scene between Hermann and his mother under the +pear tree, in Hermann und Dorothea, he burst into tears, +saying, as he dried his eyes, “One melts over one’s own +fire.”</p> + +<p>Schiller wrote to Goethe: “At first my sensations have +no definite object; that is formed later. First comes a certain +musical sensation, and after that, follows the poetical +idea.”</p> + +<p>What is described here is, as fancy, not a new, independent, +or mystical condition, peculiar to certain individuals, +but is merely a refinement of a certain part of the +psychical organism, and consequently a mere alteration of +intensity of a phenomenon observable in all men.</p> + +<p>Our whole mental action, the train of ideas, voluntary +or involuntary, is accompanied with a certain state of temper, +best termed a <i>mood</i> (<i lang="de">Stimmung</i>), to which I have referred +in the first chapter. As we are not ordinarily conscious of +any feelings produced by our internal organs, so, in spite of +their continuous presence, we are not commonly aware of +our moods. We recognise them only as they vary. Different +authors are at variance in regard to the connection between +our moods and our ideas. Some will have the moods +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>dependent upon the ideas, while others make the content of +the ideas follow the mood of the moment. My own opinion +is that neither rule can be maintained, but that moods and +ideas react upon one another, at one time a mood taking +the lead, at another an idea. When sad news is received, a +gloomy mood is plainly a consequence of the ideas; yet it is +not to be denied that we have many ups and downs of mood +for which no differences of ideas can account. Such moods +are called <i>humours</i>.</p> + +<p>It is well known that the multitude of qualitative differences +of sense-perceptions exceeds every finite number. Not +only can we perceive differences in the intensity of lights, +but we can distinguish the most manifold shades of colour. +Sounds differ not merely in intensity and in pitch, but also +in the quality of tone. We not only hear upon what instrument +a given note is sounded, but a connoisseur can tell +upon what string of a violin it is drawn. Hence we recognise +the voice of one acquaintance among hundreds.</p> + +<p>The quality of a sensation can not be described in words. +No doubt, we have names for the coarsest distinctions; but +even these have a value only when they are brought into +connection with previous impressions. A person blind from +birth can in no way whatever get any idea of a distinction +of colour. Nor can a deaf-mute get the most distant notion +of the differences of qualities of sounds.</p> + +<p>In strict analogy with sense-perception, the fundamentally +different qualities of moods are likewise too multitudinous +to be enumerated. Neither can they be described in +words. We have names for certain states, and these names +may suggest previous experiences of our states of mind. +Compunction, pity, desire, worry, hope, fear, though they +have names, are sensations and moods that no descriptions +can paint. If a person had never felt pity in his life, you +could in no way give him an idea of that mood.</p> + +<p>Persons whose psychical organism is highly refined in this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>respect will have qualities of moods that there are no words +to express. Just as the musically gifted can distinguish +timbres that ordinary people can not, so those persons have +mood-feelings for which the average man is incapable, and +for which common language has no designations. Alfieri’s +“soft fever” and Schiller’s “a certain musical mood of the +heart” are obviously attempts to convey some notion of +such refined mood-feelings.</p> + +<p>Another trait remarkable in famous poets is an instinctive +and invincible impulse to express the ideas and feelings +within them. In consequence of this impulse the work of +genius is not a voluntary labour, but the involuntary product +of a psychical need. It is not a hankering after applause +and success, nor a regard for his other interests, which induces +the man of genius to perform his task. It is solely a +passion to give shape and form to the idea that exists in his +fancy. The true poet does not versify because he would, +but because he must. Goethe has painted the poetic impulse +in Tasso:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Alfonso.</i> I beg of thee to break this habit up!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The poet’s loss will be the man’s success.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2"><i>Tasso.</i> I’ve struggled day and night against this need;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I’m worn out trying to shut up my breast.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis useless! Sing I must; else life’s not life.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prohibit the poor silkworm’s industry</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On pain of death, yet still he’ll keep right on</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drawing the costly web from his entrails,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor cease until his golden cerecloth’s wove.—Act V, scene 2.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>This impulse of the poet of genius is again merely an exaggerated +case of a purely physiological phenomenon found +in all men. In every man strong emotions and powerful +motions of the heart exercise a great influence upon his +whole mental conduct. But the effects of emotions are not +limited to the mind. They are centrifugally communicated +to the other organs. They have spasmodic and paralytic +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>effects upon the blood vessels, which are shown by blanching +and blushing, cold down the back (shivers and gooseflesh), +etc. The beating of the heart may be increased to +the highest point or may be completely suspended. Glandular +secretions, sweat, and tears are influenced by moods. +The emotions are alleviated by such processes. The mood +becomes calmer, the whole state of mind more agreeable. A +decided relief is brought to great mental pain by tears, and +a person may even speak of having “a good cry.” Anger +is softened by “having it out,” be it even on a lifeless thing. +Hysterical subjects and children strike or kick the object +against which they may have struck. Cheerful emotions +also seek “vent.” A comical emotion sets the laughing +muscles in motion, and this is followed by a calmer mood.</p> + +<p>The impulse to give expression to emotions and moods is +not only shown in such reflex ways, but also in an intense +desire for communication to other persons. The consequence +of “telling all about it” is a measurable unburdening +or relaxation which produces satisfaction. Thus, all men +have a natural impulse to communicate their inward feelings +and sensations. The suppression of it involves a tension, +a heightening of the emotion, and a general uneasiness. A +pain which circumstances forbid us to disclose, especially +where tears have to be suppressed, is felt more intensely. +Suppressed anger “gnaws the vitals” all the worse. The +suppression of laughter is very uncomfortable, and for some +persons quite impossible. Everybody knows how hard it is +for women (shall we add for men?) to keep a secret.</p> + +<p>When a woman has a piece of news, she “burns” to repeat +it. Everybody suffering from the pangs of love feels +much relieved when he has confessed his passion. Everybody +experiences relief, when he bears a grudge against +anybody, on “speaking his mind” about him. Criminals +are not seldom led by an inward impulse to confess offences +committed long before. Thus, this impulse, which I shall +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>term the impulse of revelation, is a quite normal one, and +belongs in some measure to every man.</p> + +<p>In poets of genius, who have such manifold feelings and +moods, and in whose rich fancy so many new thoughts and +ideas are continually springing up, this impulse is proportionately +manifest. But since, as we have seen, the feelings +and moods of the poet cannot be described in simple words, +art is required to give utterance to them. Such a poet no +more writes for the sake of making poetry than a rational +man talks for the sake of talking; he creates his work of art +solely to the end that he may give utterance to the sentiments, +feelings, and thoughts with which his soul is burdened. +If he finds his work has no success nor recognition, +he of course feels the same pain that any man would feel +who wants to express himself to somebody and is understood +by nobody. But he is incapable of altering anything +in his work or reshaping it for a new edition. He can only +be what he is. He feels himself incapable of creating anything +but the embodiment of his ideas and sentiments.</p> + +<p>Such a poet was Goethe. Art was for him only the +means of expression of his sentiments. He expressed in +poetic form only what really took place within himself, what +he really lived, felt, and experienced. He himself said: “All +my poems are occasional poems. They were called forth by +real circumstances and have their reason and place therein. +I never valued poems snatched out of the air. A special +situation is universal and poetic, simply because a poet +treats of it. What I did not undergo and what did not concern +me I have never sung or expressed. I never wrote +love poems without being in love.” And again he said: “If +I desired for my poems a true basis and reflection, I had to +get it in my own bosom. And so began that habit—from +which I have never departed through life—of converting +whatever rejoiced, or worried, or otherwise concerned me +into a poem and so have done with it, and thus at once to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>correct my conceptions of outward things and to set my +mind at rest. The gift for doing so could be to nobody +more needful than to me; for my nature was always swaying +from one extreme to another. Thus, all I have published +are but fragments of a long confession.”</p> + +<p>In Goethe the most diverse moods replaced one another. +As he says, he passed from one extreme to another. To +give them expression was the motive of his artistic production. +The matter of his creations was furnished by his +creative fancy, which in its turn took its material from the +world in which he lived and into which he had such an insight +as no other had. Thus, as often as his relations in life +altered, he would alter the plan of his Wilhelm Meister, as +he describes it in the following words: “Its beginnings +came from a dim premonition that though a man may +often essay things whose successful performance was denied +to him by Nature, yet perhaps all false steps really +carry him toward a priceless good. This conjecture is in +Wilhelm Meister developed, illustrated, established, and at +last expressly enunciated in the clear words, ‘Thou appearest +to me like Saul, the son of Kis, who went out to fetch +his father’s she-asses and found a kingdom.’” The following +is likewise highly instructive: “For this purpose I collected +the elements that I had been turning over in my mind +for a couple of years, and examined the cases which had +troubled me the most and occasioned me the most anxiety. +However, nothing seemed to shape itself. I was in want of +an incident or plot in which things could embody themselves. +Finally, I got news of Jerusalem’s death; and just +after the general notice came a precise and circumstantial +account of the event. In an instant the remainder of the +plan was found. Everything closed up on all sides and became +a compact mass. It was like water in a vessel just on +the point of freezing, which at the least joggle becomes a +solid lump of ice.” His joys and sorrows, his desires, his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>pleasures and pains were exhibited by Goethe in the heroes +of his poems. In their veins flowed his blood, they breathed +with his lungs, and they lived by his life.</p> + +<p>Dilthey⁠<a id="FNanchor_32_32" href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> says: “The poetic process is in most of +Goethe’s creations the same. A state of heart is powerfully +experienced in the whole outer situation, with all the ideas, +states, and shapes surrounding it, and since now the inwardly +moved poet meets an outward condition fit to be made +the vehicle of the experiences of his heart, there arises in +this coalescence the nucleus of a poem which at once contains +in itself all characteristic traits, the entire mood, the +lines of the whole.”</p> + +<p>In giving artistic expression to his own sentiments and +his own fancy, Goethe painted the sentiments and reactions +of society. The reason was that his soul was but the mirror +of the world in which he lived. The greatness of the poet +consisted precisely in this accidental correspondence; and +when he painted his own woes and joys he was painting +unawares the woes and joys of humanity. Goethe himself +touches upon this in the following words: “There is all the +difference in the world between the poet’s seeking out the +particular to fit the general, and showing the general in the +particular. The former method gives rise to allegory, where +the particular is only an example of the general; but the +latter method is the proper nature of poetry. It expresses +a particular without thinking of the general or referring to +it. Whoever catches the particular in all its life will have +set his finger upon the universal without at first knowing +what he has captured.”</p> + +<p>This method of poetic creation is not, however, found in +all poets. Art is not always an expression of sentiments and +feelings. Poets as famous as Goethe have worked under +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>totally different psychical conditions, and have created in an +altogether different way.</p> + +<p>Such a difference is found in those two men whom the +German people with just pride hold to be the greatest poets +of the century. Between scarcely any two poets have so +many parallels been drawn as between Goethe and Schiller. +Critics of to-day often rate Goethe higher than Schiller, and +make him the greater of the two poets. But from the psychological +standpoint we are forced to the conviction that +there is between them a difference other than one of degree. +Were Schiller raised to an ever so much higher power (if an +algebraical metaphor may be permitted), he could never become +a Goethe, but he might become a Shakespeare.</p> + +<p>While Goethe took “in his own bosom” the poetic basis +of his works, Schiller placed the germs of his poems in the +outer world. While Goethe conceived poetry as merely the +means of utterance of his sentiments, and hence spoke of his +writings as “fragments of a long confession,” Schiller declares +the purpose of poesy to be “none other than the +completest expression of humanity.” While Goethe’s heroes +were made of his own flesh and blood, Schiller’s fancy produced, +idealized and generalized embodiments of characters +he had observed and studied in the outward world. Schiller +attached an intrinsic value to the outward habiliments of +poetry, the sonorous and metaphorical language, the melody +of verse, the plot of the drama. Goethe regarded the outward +form as the mere “<i lang="de">Machwerk</i>”—the make-up—and of +course did not finish and polish his works with the same +care as Schiller. Of his Wallenstein, Schiller said: “Almost +everything is cut away from me by which I might get +at this matter in my usual way. Everything has to be effectuated +by a felicitous form.” The construction of the form +sufficed to bring him inspiration, though he could take no +real interest in his personages. Speaking of the same drama +in a letter, he says: “The matter is so alien to me that I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>can hardly get up an interest in it. It leaves me well-nigh +cold and indifferent. Yet I am enthusiastic over the work. +Two personages excepted, for whom I have some sympathy, +I treat the whole <i>dramatis personæ</i>, especially the leading +character, with a mere artistic love, cold as charity; but I +assure you, they shall not turn out any worse on this account.” +Goethe could never have brought himself to write +in that fashion. When he had once given expression to his +sentiments in a poetic rough-draught, he would often neglect +it for years before he finished it.</p> + +<p>“Goethe,” says Hermann Grimm, “was in his inmost +heart of quite the opposite way of thinking from Schiller. +He acknowledged Schiller’s importance, reverenced his +earnest life, esteemed his greatness as a man. But as for +what Schiller called poems, they were in Goethe’s eyes not +poetry at all. Schiller’s poetical creating was foreign to +Goethe. Schiller would begin by casting about for material. +Then he worked it till he had made it plastic. Next, he laid +his plans. These plans he placed before himself, and went +to work, so many hours <i>per diem</i>, to construct his work, as a +mason would build a palace, in strict conformity to the plan +before him. That done, he took a contract with himself to +put in the painting, the ornaments, and the furniture; and +finally he cleaned the whole thing up, and opened it to the +public. This thorough workmanship was Schiller’s forte. +He was a professional poet, and he excelled all other professional +poets. Goethe appreciated this; but he could not +practise it himself. He discussed the technical questions +which are of importance in criticising poetry, and in producing +it, too, with the utmost seriousness, but always as an +outsider. Making verses was for him an inconceivable proceeding. +Whoever applied to Goethe to know whether he +ought to go into the poetical profession came to a fine quarter. +Young persons with a turn for versification have an +artless belief that there is somewhere an Areopagus from +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>which they may obtain a solemn and authoritative concession +to make verses; and that thereupon they may be assured +that their verses will meet with ‘success’—that is, be +read and admired. Goethe was only able to give an answer +which threw them back upon a metaphor—that a silkworm +had only to eat leaves, and the silk would surely not be in +default. In short, he replied evasively, dissuasively, and +hesitatingly. But Schiller would answer in good faith. +He criticised the verses inclosed and required, if they +would trust to him, that they should persevere industriously. +Naturally, he warned them that the art of poetry +must not be attempted unless the writer was prepared to +dedicate his life to it, with other such admonitions of good +sense.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_33_33" href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Schiller, for his part, considered poems which sprang +from the author’s personal feelings, which included Goethe’s, +as not, in the proper sense of the term, poetry. Concerning +the few things he had himself done in that way Schiller said: +“These verses are a mere natural utterance—a <i lang="de">Naturlaut</i>, as +Herder would say—a note of pain, artless and comparatively +formless. They are too true for the individual, to be called +poetry proper; for in them the individual appeases his need +and alleviates his burden, while in lyrics of another kind, +carried away by a flood, he yields to the need of creating. +The present lines give utterance to the sentiment from +which they sprang and, after their kind, they make no +further pretension.”</p> + +<p><em>These contrasts between the two poets did not rest upon any +differences of principle, nor were they consequences of any divergence +of theoretical views, but were due directly to differences of +psychical mechanism.</em></p> + +<p>Goethe in his prevailing moods was, as he describes himself, +“tossed from one extreme to another.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Now merry, now heart-cut,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Now thankful to be;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or dangling uncertain</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In flittering pain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exulting to heaven,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To death beaten down, etc.⁠<a id="FNanchor_34_34" href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>These words picture Goethe’s life. His moods were +capable of the finest gradations. They arose spontaneously; +he could give no account of them. His luxuriant fancy was +formed from feelings and moods and pressed forward to +artistic embodiment.</p> + +<p>Goethe is often a riddle to himself. He considered his +fancy as an objective spectator. Its variegated mixture became +the source of his poetic ideas. But his strong intellectual +power set limits to the rovings of his fancy, and did +not allow it to be subjugated to his fluctuating moods, but +held the mental balance even.</p> + +<p>Schiller’s fancy was not excited by spontaneous moods. +It was not in that way that he was urged to artistic expression. +His moods depended upon his ideas. They were +produced by ideas and modified by ideas. Schiller’s fancy +no doubt lent poetic ideas to his searching intellect; but it +did not work on its own account as Goethe’s did. It was +an effect of the will. Schiller could never say that his works +arose “as in a dream,” or that he versified “like a sleepwalker.” +He did not feel that he produced “unconsciously.” +What he did was the result of the most deliberate purpose.</p> + +<p>Goethe’s impulse to deliver himself, to set forth his sentiments +in artistic form, corresponds to Schiller’s need of +producing, to the exuberance “impelled by superfluity” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>toward artistic creation. The turning-point for him lies in +the intellect, and this draws from the outward world and +from fancy in order to erect a sublime art temple. The +characters produced by him did not, like Goethe’s, arise +from his own sentiment, but were thoroughly artificial +products.</p> + +<p>Both Goethe and Schiller felt the gulf between them. +After their first meeting, Schiller wrote to Körner: “His +whole nature is laid down on other lines from mine; he lives +in another world, and our modes of thought seem to be +widely remote.”</p> + +<p>Knowing that Goethe had in many ways excelled him, +Schiller wrote: “It is true that, in entering this path, I encroach +upon Goethe’s domain and must measure myself +against him. It is furthermore certain that here I will be +outstripped by him. But a remainder is left for me, which +is mine, and which he can never attain; so that the preference +given to him will be no shame to me, and I hope that +things will about balance. In my most courageous moments +I hope that the public will class us as different, but will not +subordinate one species to the other, rather co-ordinating us +both under a broader idealistic generic concept.” Thus +Schiller justly recognised the difference of their “species” +and had the right feeling that the one species ought not to +be subordinated to the other. Twenty years after Schiller’s +death Goethe said: “Schiller, who had the true poetical +nature, but whose mind inclined to reflection and compelled +much by force of reflection, that ought to spring up in a +poet unconsciously and of its own accord, drew many young +men his way who could, after all, only learn his language.”</p> + +<p>The vast difference between these two men showed itself +in many traits of their character. Goethe, who in his poems +responded only to an inward impulse, a natural need, wrote +above all for himself, and asked nothing for the public. +Schiller’s efforts were to impose upon the world, to please +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>the public. He himself says: “The public is now all with +me; it is the subject of my studies, it is my sovereign, my +friend. To the public alone I now belong. I shall submit +to no other tribunal than this. This I fear, and this I respect.” +Goethe neither feared nor honoured the public, +and did not concern himself about what critics said of him, +while Schiller often confessed that the critics had influenced +him much. Goethe made no haste to get his works before +the public; while Schiller could not wait till his creation +was mature to commence publication. Thus, he published +fragments of “Don Carlos” in Thalia, long before the poem +was completed. But he himself regretted it later, for he +would have liked to have altered something.</p> + +<p>As I said above, Shakespeare might be called a Schiller +raised to a higher power. Unfortunately, we have no detailed +information about his life and opinions. But his +works sufficiently show that never has poet been able to +paint characters so true to nature and life as he. The world +in its unadulterated genuineness and merest truth was reflected +in the soul of this immortal poet. No theatrical +puppets are they to whom his fancy gave being. They are +men and women—living flesh and blood. They really feel, +lament and make merry. But the poet himself does not +speak to us through them. The man Shakespeare we do +not know, nor can we guess what manner of man he was, +nor what he felt. In every word of Goethe it is him we +hear, and it is inconceivable that anybody should love his +works without seeing the poet in them, who speaks to us by +them. But with Shakespeare it is only for his characters +that we warm up. With them we can sympathize, but the +poet remains a stranger to us.</p> + +<p>Schiller himself tells us that the matter of his poems often +left him cold. His feelings were not engaged. In the whole +of Wallenstein only two persons interested him (probably +Max and Thekla). With many poets we can see that their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>heroic characters, which mounted their fancy, exercised a +powerful influence upon their poetic hearts. So Dickens +tells us that he sympathized with his favourite heroes; that +he decidedly looked upon them as living persons; that during +the composition he concerned himself about their fate +as he would about a dear friend’s; that, in short, he partook +of their sorrows and joys in his inmost soul. Thus, while +with Goethe moods and sentiments were at the bottom of +the production of the work of art, such psychical conditions +were called forth in Dickens in a secondary way by the productions +of his fancy. With Schiller, again, moods seem to +have played neither an active nor a passive part in the creation +of his poems. A poet who, from a psychological point +of view, is to be compared with Goethe—though in a much +lower potency, for whom, however, art was equally a means +for expressing his feelings and sentiments—is Byron, on +which account Goethe rated him particularly high, feeling +in him a certain mental affinity to himself.</p> + +<p>We see, then, how enormous a difference, from a psychological +point of view, there is between the greatest poets, +especially between those two whom the German people are +accustomed to couple together as inseparable. Nor do these +differences consist in one’s being placed above the other; but +those psychical phenomena which for Goethe formed the +main condition of his poetic life are not present at all in +Schiller, but are replaced by different qualities. Yet there +is one element they have in common. I mean creative fancy, +without which it is impossible to conceive of a poet. This +creative fancy therefore forms a common factor of all poetical +genius.</p> + +<p>Let us now turn to a psychological study of the most +famous composers. We frequently meet with descriptions +of the mode of production of their works, as we do with +those of poets of genius. They, too, have the feeling of unconscious +production, of the independent springing up of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>their tone-poems. Mozart frequently said the ideas of his +creations came to him as in a dream. Gluck said thoughts +flowed to him, and he knew not whence they came. Haydn +believed that a “divine will” had through him created his +greatest work—<span lang="de">Die Schöpfung</span>.</p> + +<p>Here again, then, we find an independent fancy, such as +we have recognised in poets of genius. In quite an analogous +way in painters of genius fancy sometimes pours out +its wealth in an inexhaustible spring. The imagination +bodies forth new shapes unceasingly, and every figure, every +tree, every stream is set forth in its smallest details; and +these ideas weld with others in harmonious ideal images.</p> + +<p>The question which presents itself, then, is: Whence +comes it that one fancy expresses itself in poetic production, +that in another musical creations spring up, while in a third +painting is the vent of the creative imagination? The answer +to this question leads us to consider that congenital +capacity which is generally called Talent.</p> + +<p>What is, for example, musical talent? While at the first +hearing of a concerted piece unmusical persons hear nothing +but the flow of the melody and the general character of the +sounds, those who are talented comprehend the composition +in all its divisions. In their apperception the harmony resolves +itself into its parts, and the general effect of the sound +is analyzed. While the sensuous impression called forth by +music quickly passes away in those without talent, with talent +a single hearing suffices to create a lasting memory. Musical +talent is able to make out subtleties which are quite hidden +from those who want it. In musicians of talent not even the +direct excitation of musical reminiscences is needed to suggest +auditory images, but they may be produced associatively +from optical centres of apperception. Such people +can, for example, read over a score and acquire as clear an +idea of the composition as if they actually heard it. Though +these qualities be carried to their highest pitch, they still +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>remain matters not of genius but of talent. Mozart after +hearing a mass once was able to write the whole down; but +this is only a proof of vast talent, and does not depend upon +that creative fancy which his compositions bespeak.</p> + +<p>We have reason to presume that the causes of talent +are to be attributed to anatomical conditions. For example, +the autopsy of the brain of Gambetta (whose extraordinary +oratorical power is well known) showed an uncommonly +great development of the third frontal or Broca’s +convolution—that is to say, of the part of the brain in which +the centre of language is situated. It is to be presumed +that musical talent depends upon a specially refined development +of a certain acoustic centre, although its exact localization +at present escapes our knowledge. Talent is certainly +nothing but the material for artistic creation. It is, +so to say, the instrument of the artist, while the creative +power of genius corresponds to the artistic power of drawing +tones from that instrument.</p> + +<p>In Mozart the turning point of his artistic production lay +in his inexhaustible fancy, which, according to his family, +was in incessant action. His wife said: “In truth, his head +was working all the time, his mind was ever moving, he +composed almost unceasingly.” “In Prague it once happened +that Mozart, while he was playing billiards, was humming +a <i>motif</i>, and from time to time would look into a book +he had with him. Afterward he confessed that he had been +at work upon the first quintette of the Zauberflöte.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_35_35" href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> His +sister Sophia described him as follows: “He was always in +good humour, but even at best very reflective, looking one +very sharp in the eye meantime, answering attentively +whether he was cheerful or sad, yet always seeming to be +preoccupied with something else. Even while washing his +hands in the morning he would walk up and down the room; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>and he never stood still, but would strike one heel against the +other. And he was always reflecting.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_36_36" href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> “When he travelled +with his wife through a beautiful country he looked +attentively and silently upon the world about him. His +physiognomy, commonly rather self-contained and gloomy +than brisk and free, would gradually become more cheerful, +and then he would begin to sing, or rather to hum, until at +last he would exclaim, ‘If I only had that theme on paper!’ +And if she said that it could easily be done, he would say, +‘Yes, of course, it is a stupid thing that we must sit down +and do our work in the room.’” This remark reminds us +of a passage in a letter of Goethe: “As you may readily +imagine, I have a hundred new things in my head; and now +it does not depend on thinking; it depends on the making. +What a thing it would be if we could confine objects so that +they would stay put!”</p> + +<p>In his inexhaustible and restlessly working fancy Mozart +was very much like Goethe. His works commonly lay +ready-made in his memory when he began to set them down +on paper. He wrote most unwillingly, and generally waited +till the last minute, so that he was commonly behind time. +It is well known that he wrote the overture to Don Juan +the night before the performance of the opera. While we +consider creative fancy to be a part of the action of his +genius, his vast musical memory was a matter of talent, +which in Mozart was not less phenomenal. When he once +sent his sister a fugue with a prelude he excused himself +for writing the prelude after the fugue. “The truth is,” +said he, “it was while I was writing down the fugue that I +composed the prelude.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_37_37" href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> Thus his fancy was able to work +undisturbed while he exercised his intellectual reproductive +power. This fact may at first sight seem incredible and +contradictory to common psychical conditions. But it is not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>so. Here again is a high refinement of a universal psychical +phenomenon. Most men, while engaged in a mechanical occupation, +can give a free rein to the play of fancy; and even +when the mechanical work requires some attention, many +men are able at the same time to think about something +else. Whoever is accustomed to work in a laboratory +knows very well what it is to follow those mechanical operations +with attention and at the same time to be considering +some important question. The strange thing in Mozart’s +case is that the writing down from memory of a fugue—a +work which would have required the concentrated attention +of a fairly talented man—was for him a mere mechanical +act. We hardly know which most to admire, his stupendous +talent or his creative genius.</p> + +<p>Mozart’s rich fancy, like that of Goethe, was directed by +a high intellectual faculty which checked its boilings over, +held the ideas to an ordered sequence, and eliminated disturbing +elements. Mozart’s capacity of concentrating his +attention upon what was in his mind, and of shutting out +all disturbing perceptions of sense, was tremendous. While +he was at work social conversation about him was no annoyance, +and even with an orchestra playing in his ears +he could calmly follow out his own fancy. “His eldest +sister, Frau Hofer, told Neukomm that even at the opera,—as +anybody who knew him could easily observe by the restless +movements of his hands, by his glance, and by his pursing +his lips to sing or whistle,—he would be completely +taken up in following out his inward train of music.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_38_38" href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>But wherever it was worth while to pay attention to the +outer world, and to take in outward impressions of sense, he +had an equally high capacity for that. His fancy received +rich aliment from the action of his intellect. He had studied +the old masters perfectly. He himself said: “Nobody takes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>so much pains in the study of composition as I. You could +not easily name a famous master in music whom I have not +industriously studied, often going through his works several +times.” Rochlitz reports that he knew the chief works of +Händel as well as if he had all his life been director of the +London Academy for the Support of Old Music.</p> + +<p>With all the likeness between Mozart and Goethe there +was this remarkable difference between them, that Mozart +was not influenced by moods. They had no part whatever +in the work of his artistic production. Art was not for him +the means of expression of his own sentiments, as it was with +Goethe; he could adapt the play of his fancy to outward +conditions, to motives of the outer world; so that, in this respect, +Mozart strongly reminds one of Schiller. He could +set his fancy any problem he liked, and it would promptly +proceed to solve it. Mozart could compose to order; and +many of his works, especially canons, were produced in +that way. In consonance with this was Mozart’s power of +setting foreign texts of operas to music, which corresponded +precisely to the character and mood of the words, although +he did not warm up to them.</p> + +<p>In Beethoven, on the contrary, art was solely a means of +expression of his own sentiments and feelings. The immortal +creations which sprang from his artistic fancy enable us to +look deeply into the spiritual life of the great artist. They +paint his inner struggles, his anguish, and his delight.</p> + +<p>The ideal that was constantly before him, and which by +great struggles he sought to attain, was that of a strong, active, +manly character, unmoved by any blow of fate and never +despondent in the struggle of life, but keeping up its courage +to its last breath. “Courage! However weak my body, +my soul shall rule.” To this boast he always adhered, no +matter how hard his lot. After a joyless youth he had to +contend with the direst need. But worst of all was the defect +of his hearing, which at last amounted to stone-deafness. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>One can imagine what it meant for him to be the only one +to whom it was not permitted to listen to his own symphonies. +But dreadful as it was, his courage was never broken; +his soul marched victoriously to the strife and held command +over his sufferings.</p> + +<p>Such moods as struggle, gloom, hope, pleasure, suffering, +burst into expression in his art of music—the mother tongue +of sentiments and moods. Of every creation of Beethoven +we may say, with Goethe, it was “a fragment of one long +confession.”</p> + +<p>The fineness of Beethoven’s faculty of sense, the subtilty +in the <i>nuances</i> of his moods, was a no less important factor of +his nature than his rich creative fancy. Words could not +describe his sentiments; only music, the language of the +heart, could render them; and his moods were the motives +of the action of his genius.</p> + +<p>How little such feelings and sentiments can be described +in words is shown by Richard Wagner in his <span lang="de">Programmatische +Erläuterungen</span>.⁠<a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> In speaking of the Heroic Symphony +he says: “The first movement brings to a focus all the sentiments +of a rich manly nature in restless, youthful, active +emotion. Bliss and woe, delight and suffering, joy and +grief, musing and aspiration, yearning and revelling, daring, +insolence, and indomitable self-feeling jostle so closely +upon one another that while we sympathize with all these +sentiments, we can isolate no one, but are obliged to partake +of all as this master of all sentiments delivers them.” Of the +second movement he says: “A sentiment excited in solemn +nuptials and combined with profound pain is communicated +to us in a tone language which takes possession of us; an +earnest, manly sorrow looks forward out of its plaint to soft +pathos, to recollections, to tears of love, to inward elevation, +to inspired summons.” But it is in vain that Wagner +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>strives to reproduce in words the mood produced by the +work or the sentiments of his artistic heart. He confesses it +himself: “But who could paint in words the infinitely manifold +but inexpressible sentiments which pass from pain to +the highest exultation, and from exultation to the softest +grief, until they come to rest in a bottomless pondering? +The tone poet alone could do this in this wonderful composition.” +The account closes with the words: “But only +in the master’s tone-speech could that unspeakable meaning +be uttered which my confined words have attempted to describe +with the greatest modesty.”</p> + +<p>Thus between these two classics, Mozart and Beethoven, +there was a distinction analogous to that between Schiller +and Goethe. Still, creative fancy is the common and indispensable +factor, without which neither a poet nor a composer +of genius can be conceived.</p> + +<p>It plays the same important part in the minds of painters. +Accordingly, Humboldt⁠<a id="FNanchor_39_39" href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> says: “As soon as the painter’s +fancy has given birth to the living image, the masterpiece is +completed, though his hand were that instant to be paralyzed. +The actual execution is but the echo of that decisive +moment.” But the same psychological distinction pursues +us. For some painters art was merely the means of expression +of their sentiments and moods. Examples will be mentioned +in another chapter.</p> + +<p>Let us first turn our attention to representatives of the +arts of execution. I mean musical performers and actors.</p> + +<p>We have already analyzed the nature of musical talent, +so that we can come at once to the question, What is the +distinction between a performer of talent and a performer +of genius?</p> + +<p>Jean Paul⁠<a id="FNanchor_40_40" href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> speaks of men of “receptive or passive genius” +“who are richer in receptive than in creative fancy,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>to whose productions that radiance of genius is wanting +“which only breaks forth from the consensus of all the +powers, and from great powers alone.”</p> + +<p>By “receptive fancy,” which is an expression psychologically +incorrect, Jean Paul means that state of heart +which is particularly inclined to be put by a work of art +into a responsive mood, a disposition that can enter into the +sentiments of the artist and can fully enjoy his work. Jean +Paul says: “There are men who, endowed with a higher +sensibility than powerful talent in itself confers, but with +less power, receive into a consecrated, open soul the great +world-mind, be it in outward life or in poems and thoughts, +and remain constant to it as the tender woman to the strong +man, disdaining the vulgar, and who yet, if they would express +their love, stammer out broken, confused words and +say something different from what they wished to say.” +These are people endowed with extreme delicacy of feeling +and sentiment, so that they are more capable of being absorbed +in a work of genius than others, yet lacking the creative +fancy which would enable them to give to their sensations +an independent artistic expression. Let such people +be provided with musical talent which specially fits them for +the use of an instrument, and they will have the opportunity, +in playing the compositions of others, to express their own +artistic feelings and sentiments. They will put their souls +into the reproduction of the work. In short, they will be +performers of genius. Schütz⁠<a id="FNanchor_41_41" href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> says of Paganini: “The instant +he took his instrument a divine spark seemed to touch +him, and celestial fire ran through his being. Every feeling +of weakness departed. He was transformed into a new being; +he instantly became another soul; and so long as he +played, his strength was more than quintupled.” So it is +with those actors and singers who in the performance of a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>part are completely absorbed in the situation. They throw +into it their artistically excited hearts, and fulfil their feelings +and sentiments.</p> + +<p>Other performers of no less talent, or perhaps more, remain +cold and without sensation in the performance of the +work of art. With them the intellectual function alone determines +their rendering of the piece. The effects are calculated, +the execution studied, the whole is made up. However +great the talent of such performers, bringing them to +the highest pitch of technical skill, genius will never be +attributed to them by the great public. Thus we see that +in artists of execution the psychical causes of performances +of genius have to be sought in the sphere of feeling +and sensation. That faculty which we have recognised as +the chief requisite for the genius of the creative artist—namely, +creative fancy—is never present in the performer +of genius.</p> + +<p>Thus, in the attempt to reduce genius in different departments +to the same or similar faculties, we are thrown +into perplexity. There are doubtless common factors, but +it must be admitted that the psychical elements which constitute +the essence of genius in poets such as Schiller, and +in performers such as Paganini, have nothing in common.</p> + +<p>We now pass to the consideration of those famous men +who are called men of scientific genius or scholars of genius. +An inquiry into the causes of scientific genius will show that +it has two factors—discovery and invention. Copernicus, +Galileo, Newton distinguished themselves by many important +discoveries. As we have seen above, the success of the +discoverer is partly dependent upon external circumstances; +so that we shall not remain content with the outward +facts, but shall endeavour to probe the matter to the +bottom. In short, we shall try to find psychical circumstances +accounting for the discoveries of genius.</p> + +<p>When Newton’s friend Halley once asked him how he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>ever came to make all those great discoveries, he said it was +by incessantly dwelling on the problems concerned. On another +occasion he said that the chief difference between him +and other men was that he had more patience than others.</p> + +<p>Galileo investigated and worked restlessly to his latest +years. When he was blind in both eyes, he wrote, by the +hand of another, that in his darkness his mind was perpetually +turning over the problems of nature, and would not +cease its activity, even when he desired rest; so that he was +deprived of his sleep.</p> + +<p>These and other sayings of famous men of science about +the actions of their mind and the origin of the ideas of genius +have an entirely different tone from the analogous reports of +poets and composers. Great discoveries, unless they were +mere effects of chance, have never been made “unconsciously,” +“as in a dream,” “like sleepwalking,” but, on the contrary, +require the completest wakefulness, self-conscious +thought, and untiring industry. These characters, which +we find in all great investigators and scholars, depend upon +the extremest refinement of that part of the psychical organ +which is the vehicle of the intellectual powers. In the first +place, and above all, great discoverers have great powers of +observation. For this, as we know, undivided attention +concentrated upon an exterior process is requisite. The +faculties of perception and ideation are highly refined; the +organs of apperception and reproduction act with the greatest +energy. The ideas obtained in this way are connected +into conceptual forms by that intellectual action which +Wundt⁠<a id="FNanchor_42_42" href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> terms the “inductive understanding.” Upon the +extremest refinement of this faculty depends the quick and +correct recognition of the connections of things which is +met with in great investigators.</p> + +<p>We find here, then, essentially different psychical conditions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>from those of poets and artists of genius. We may +go so far as to say that they are antagonistic, the one to +the other. A rich fancy and a variety of moods, feelings, +and sentiments, which form the main condition of a productive +artist, are not only of no use to a great investigator of +Nature, but they are positively disadvantageous to him. +Every human being possesses fancy, and an absolutely sharp +line of demarcation cannot be drawn between fancy and +intellect. Every man, too, is subject to oscillations of his +moods. But to the great investigator it is absolutely essential +that his intellect should possess an iron rule over all +other psychical factors. Schiller says of the poet: “He +will do well not to let his reason keep too severe a guard +at the doors against the incrowding ideas.” But for the +investigating scholar it is not well that a rich fancy should +modify the result of his objective observations or should +draw his attention away from the object of his research.</p> + +<p>Those authors who endeavour to find a general psychological +basis for genius, but strive to limit the term to a particular +class of famous men—as, for example, to productive +artists—cannot avoid the incorrect reasoning into which +Meyer falls when he says⁠<a id="FNanchor_43_43" href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a>⁠: “Nobody can dispute that +genius, even in science, is only the result of the creative +force of imagination.” In another place the same author +says: “Reflective thought is often prejudicial to the creative +power of genius. Thought must come from itself and +conclude according to its elective affinities.” According to +this, all reflective thought must be prejudicial to the genius +of the scholar. But we have learned from their own words +that reflection is requisite to the success of scholars.</p> + +<p>Whoever, like Meyer, recognises “creative imagination” +and the “unconscious origination of thoughts” as the essence +of genius ought not to apply that term to the learned. But +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>when Schopenhauer, who gave a similar meaning to genius, +says of generals and statesmen, “It is ridiculous to talk of +genius in such folks,” Herr Meyer protests and says: “I +should rather call it ridiculous to deny that Frederick the +Great was a political and military genius, that Napoleon was +a general of genius, or that Bismarck was a statesman of +genius.”</p> + +<p>The usage of language alone, irrespective of other considerations, +must determine whether we shall apply the +name of genius to generals or statesmen; but this much is +manifest, that the greatness of a military commander depends +upon essentially different psychical conditions from +the greatness of an artist. If we are to conceive of genius +as Meyer does, and are to follow him in declaring that +the “how” and the “wherefore” “remain obscure” for +genius, that “nothing is less conscious,” “nothing less voluntary,” +than “a thought of genius,” and that “reflecting +thought is sometimes prejudicial to the creative force of +genius,” then it certainly must seem ridiculous to connect +such an appellation with Frederick the Great, Napoleon, or +Bismarck. Imagine a great statesman for whom the “how” +and the “wherefore” remain always obscure. Think of a +Bismarck devoid of “reflective thought.”</p> + +<p>The greatness of a general or a statesman is exclusively +due to sharpness of intellect. A power of swift apprehension, +an instantaneous recognition of facts and their connections, +a logical and consecutive reason—these are the +qualities which are indispensable to a general of genius. +The great statesman and the great soldier must neither of +them be influenced by varying moods and feelings. All +moods and feelings must be entirely subordinated. An understanding +conscious of its purpose and an iron will must +direct and lead the whole action of the soul. The general of +genius is always distinguished by discretion and cold deliberation; +he preserves an imposing calm. At critical moments +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>he shows a wonderful presence of mind. He never +permits any upwellings of feeling or preponderance of emotion. +Hence the greatest statesman of our age has received +the admirable epithet of the Man of Iron. How utterly is +the psychical constitution of such a man unlike the rich and +sensitive heart of the artist of genius! For the substance +of the great statesman of genius iron is required; but it is +wax that has to compose the sensitive artist.</p> + +<p>The psychical faculties are not sharply separable. They +insensibly shade into one another. Hence we find a gradual +transitional series of minds bridging over the interval +between creative art and inductive science. It is in this +series that we are to place the inventor. For him a combination +of fancy with “inductive intellectual action,” as +Wundt calls it, is what is to be desired. The action of his +productive imagination is essentially different from that of +the free, creative fancy of the artist of genius. In the dreams +of the artist the work of art emerges freely, without that +definite, prefigured, foreseen purpose which is needed in +the imagination of the inventor. Well-planned, systematic +thought is for him not less requisite than the productive faculty. +It is the combination of both states, or an intermediate +condition, which we find here.</p> + +<p>There are many points of agreement between the psychical +conditions of the creative artist and those of the +scientific investigator. But where art begins science ends. +Speculative philosophy used to call for creative imagination, +no doubt; but this department of thought, which among +the ancients was the queen of the sciences, is to-day scarcely +recognised as science at all. Plato was much more a poet +than a representative of science. On the other hand, those +poets and novelists who undertake the construction of characters +in objective fashion, on a basis of research and observation, +approximate toward scientific minds.</p> + +<p>Perhaps when Meyer says that genius in science is fulfilled +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>only by the creative force of imagination he means the +speculative sciences of theology and philosophy. But the +further science advances toward its goal of truth, the more +it will emancipate itself from fancies; or, to express the matter +more accurately, the less science has to do with fancy, +the more truthful will it become and the higher will be its +value. In the truest of all the sciences, mathematics, fancy +will accomplish very little. Fancy can not solve equations +nor enunciate theorems. Fancy never discovered bacteria, +nor has it been successful as a method of medical diagnosis.</p> + +<p>We conclude, then, that <em>genius in different departments is +referable to the most diverse psychical conditions</em>. Psychical +faculties and characters which in one case constitute the +essence of genius, in another case are inconsistent with the +action of genius. In short, definite psychical characters +common to all genius are not to be found. One would seek +in vain any common psychological explanation of the greatness +of a Paganini and a Bismarck, of a Mozart and a +Napoleon.</p> + +<p>That which of old connected all genius in the eyes of +men and, in fact, gave rise to the conception, was the idea +of the mystical, the unaccountable, the supernatural. If any +such standpoint as that is to be assumed, of course there remains +no difficulty in finding an unequivocal meaning for +the term. Prof. Jürgen Bona Meyer says: “The ancient +Greeks considered poets and artists to be consecrated to +God and inspired of God. When they produced their +works the Godhead seized upon them in sacred madness, +and through them spoke to men. Who knows but that is +the very truth? Perhaps God really does lead the world by +these creative souls to the high goal to which it is destined. +Perhaps a philosophy of history might make this significance +of the heroes of spirit and of force manifest, and vindicate +the faith which, in the geniuses of earth, will recognise the +immediate agents of God.” If notions like these are what +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>is meant by ideas of genius, Meyer is quite right in saying +that genius can be introduced into science only by the +creative force of the imagination. Modern science, however, +can not follow Mr. Meyer in these “fancies of genius,” +for it is restricted to objective observation and to actual +knowledge.</p> + +<p>The foregoing researches will bring the reader to the +conviction that <em>no psychological meaning can be attached to the +word genius</em>. We can make out what a poetic genius is, +what a composer of genius is, what a performer of genius +is, what a military genius is, what a scientific genius is, etc.; +but to accept genius as a univocal term and attach one psychological +definition to it, to any good purpose, is not to be +done. Undoubtedly all men of genius have common traits; +but they are not traits characteristic of genius; they are +such as are possessed by other men, and more or less by all +men. Indeed, in no case is there anything in the mode of +action of genius qualitatively different from that of other +men; there are only different degrees of the same qualities. +We can, for any psychical character, form an unbroken +series of instances from the grade met with in the average +man up to phenomenal genius, and every rung of the ladder +will be occupied; so that it is impossible to say where the +line is to be drawn between ordinary men and men of +genius. In psychology every individual man is a <i lang="la">species sui +generis</i>. To attempt to separate men into disparate kinds, +as we do plants, would be a backward step in biology.</p> + +<p>Chemists analyze different kinds of substances, and show +that all contain precisely the same elements; so that no two +substances differ, except in the proportions of their elementary +constituents. It is just as scientifically established that +in all men precisely the same psychical elements occur, and +that these may exist in any one proportion as well as in +any other. Mood, fancy, intellectual function, memory, +ideation, apprehension, etc., are characters present in every +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>man, and into them psychological analysis dissects every +man’s faculties, whether he be a genius or whether he be an +ordinary man.</p> + +<p>The purpose of these researches and of the conclusions +to which they lead will become apparent in the following +chapter. Psychiatrists have of late been much interested in +genius; but before I could discuss the questions which have +been mooted, it seemed incumbent upon me to ascertain +what is meant by genius. Was it a psychologically definite +condition, or was it a loose name for a promiscuous bundle +of phenomena? Having, in what precedes, expressed my +opinion upon this, I now proceed to the principal question.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="GENIUS_AND_INSANITY"> + GENIUS AND INSANITY. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Having come to the conclusion that the designation +“genius” does not express any one psychological concept, +that nobody has succeeded in giving a pregnant definition +of genius, nor is likely to do so, and also that insanity is +equally indefinable, that it is impossible to draw a sharp line +between mental sanity and mental derangement, it may seem +useless to attempt to compare two such indefinite quantities. +Still, the comparison—so long as it is a comparison—if we +draw our conclusions with circumspection, can hardly do +any harm; and it may possibly enrich our knowledge and +lead us toward a recognition of truth.</p> + +<p>It is no new-fangled notion that genius and insanity are +somehow connected. Plato is known to have spoken of a +<span lang="grc">θεῖα μανία</span>, a divine insanity of poets. Seneca⁠<a id="FNanchor_44_44" href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> attributes +to Aristotle the saying, “<span lang="la">Nullum magnum ingenium sine +mixtura dementiæ fuit.</span>” Aristotle⁠<a id="FNanchor_45_45" href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> says: “Those who +have been eminent in philosophy, politics, poetry, and the +arts have all had tendencies toward melancholia.” Cicero +says:⁠<a id="FNanchor_46_46" href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> “<span lang="la">Negat enim sine furore Democritus quemquam poetam +magnum esse posse, quod idem dicit Plato.</span>” Horace⁠<a id="FNanchor_47_47" href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> +speaks of an <i lang="la">amabilis insania</i>, and Wieland of an amiable +insanity of the Muses. Dryden⁠<a id="FNanchor_48_48" href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> has the lines—</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Great wits are sure to madness near allied,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thin partitions do their bounds divide.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span></p> + +<p>One undeniable resemblance of the two phenomena is +the relative infrequency of their occurrence and their divergence +from the majority of mankind. Of old there was a +tendency to ascribe everything that was uncommon and unaccountable +to the influence of a supernatural force. Accordingly, +it was believed that famous minds, as well as +those that were darkened with madness, stood under a direct +divine influence, or even formed, themselves, a part of +the Godhead. In the Middle Ages the crazy were held to +be bewitched, or possessed of the devil, while the greatest +minds were honoured as graced by the Holy Spirit. Not +infrequently the crazy, too, if their delusions or hallucinations +were of a religious cast, were considered as saints in +direct communion with the Deity. At the same time, eminent +men of science, persecuted by ignorance and superstition, +were abhorred as tools of the devil or burnt as heretics. +At all events, genius and insanity—two inexplicable phenomena +and vaguely defined—have been confounded together +in various ages of the world, according to the ideas +of those times.</p> + +<p>After modern science had got rid of the dross of superstition +and had taken its stand upon sceptical and objective +observation, a revolution of opinion took place. Anciently +an unbounded freedom had been attributed to the play of +Nature. This far surpassed those limits within which rigid +laws of Nature allow any such play. That was supernatural. +But in modern times the tendency has been to confine the +action of Nature within much too restricted bounds. All +phenomena must now be brought under a <i>schema</i> artificially +erected. Everything must have just such a measure and +just such a weight, and every action of Nature is regarded +as subject to a numerical rule. This method of investigation +may have had beneficial results in physics, chemistry, and +the other sciences that have flourished under it, but such a +method of violent formularization must prove out of place +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>for a science like psychology, in which we must always be +limited to purely empirical facts, so that our investigations +can only be analytical, and can never proceed synthetically.</p> + +<p>As I have repeatedly remarked, psychology must strictly +individualize; and I can imagine nothing more preposterous +or unscientific than to assume a so-called normal man, and +to conclude that anything which widely departs from that +norm is diseased. We have seen that all phenomena of pronounced +mental disease arise from the same psychical elements +as the healthy action of the mind. We have further +seen that the mental life of those great men whom we call +geniuses presents no other psychical conditions than those +of ordinary men, except for differences of quantity. “Health +and disease,” says Claude Bernard, “are not two essentially +different forms, as the old physicians could believe, and as +many practitioners still believe. They are not to be regarded +as distinct principles, as entities disputing for the +living organism, and making it the theatre of their war. +That sort of ideas belong in the medical lumber room. But, +in fact, between any form of disease and health there are +only differences of degree. No disease is anything more +than an exaggeration, or disproportion, or anharmony of +normal phenomena.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_49_49" href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> This is true of all diseases whatsoever, +whether they be of corporeal or of mental origin. +Hence the decision whether anything is to be considered +as a disease or not cannot be made to depend upon how +far the phenomena depart from a norm. The only question +is, whether the vital action of the organism is prejudiced +or the performance of the individual deranged. Take, +for example, bodily deformities or other perturbations of +development. The only question is whether the individual +concerned is disabled or not. A woman with a contracted +pelvis, if she be otherwise normal and her organs act normally, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>will not be called diseased; but as soon as she becomes +pregnant she becomes a pathological subject, because +parturition can not take place in the normal way. A man +whose lungs are ill developed, so that the slightest exertion +produces dyspnœa, must be considered as ill, while another +man with uncommonly large lungs, such as fast runners generally +have, is certainly not to be called diseased on account +of this abnormality.</p> + +<p>People with bodily deformities, or anomalies of development, +frequently find themselves in situations in which they +cannot fulfil some requirements of business; and it depends +upon the degree of their incapacity how far their anomalies +are to be reckoned as pathological. The laity are frequently +able to decide what can be expected of such people, and +what not. The subjects can often estimate for themselves +what they can undertake. Nobody would accept a dwarf +for military service, and a weak man will be conscious that +he is not fit to be a drawer of stones.</p> + +<p>It is the same in regard to mental departures from the +average proportions. Only, people with mental deformities +are commonly less able than those misshapen in body to decide +for themselves in regard to their capabilities, being +generally not at all aware of their defects. Nor are the +laity in condition to form a sound judgment of the mental +state of such people. It is therefore for the best interests of +these subjects, as well as for society, that the question of +their accountability and responsibility should be left to +experts.</p> + +<p>Now, how is it with corporeally overdeveloped men, or +giants? According to the investigations of Lange, Bollinger, +Ecker, and Ranke, a number of those giants who have +been exactly described are disproportioned. “In some +cases there is a surprising disproportion between the relatively +small development of the central nervous system and +their overgrown bodies. Most commonly their excessively +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>developed bones are pathologically brittle, with irregular +partial thickenings, curvatures, or absolute deformities.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_50_50" href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> +Nevertheless, cases do occur, according to Ranke, in which +these men are well proportioned and can fulfil the requirements +of life. The question whether giants, or overgrown +men, are to be regarded as diseased depends entirely upon +the proportionate development of their parts. Gigantic +growth <i>per se</i> is surely not morbid. But if it is carried out +in some parts of the body at the expense of the development +of other parts, be it with reference to the structure of the +tissues or to the general growth, we have a deformity which +consists in an anomaly of development analogous to a congenital +crippling or dwarfish growth.</p> + +<p>There is no reason for regarding mental giants from a +different point of view. In order to judge of them, we have +to inquire whether their development is proportional, or +whether there is an overdevelopment of one part of the +psychical organ at the expense of other parts, so as to disturb +their inward equilibrium and give rise to a morbid +state. No doubt, if we are to assume that whatever does +not conform to the norm is to be considered as diseased, +every man mentally famous must be set down, without further +parley, as a pathological subject. This opinion has +found many advocates, who maintain that careful research +signally confirms their theory, and that most, if not all, +famous men exhibit symptoms of mental disease.</p> + +<p>The first writer to discuss the subject at length was +Moreau de Tours,⁠<a id="FNanchor_51_51" href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> who considers genius as a positive disease +of the mind, consequent upon an overexcitation of the +brain. “Genius,” he says, “like every other intellectual +condition of dynamism, necessarily has its material substratum. +This substratum is a semi-morbid state of the brain, a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>true nervous erethism (orgasm or excited state), the source +of which is from this moment well known....</p> + +<p>“Whenever the psychic forces surpass the ordinary +limits of their action, whether we consider them in their +most elevated manifestations—those in appearance the most +independent of the organization—or in their simplest and +most rudimentary expression, whether in the most transcendent +operations of the intellect, or in the unelaborated +and almost material fact of sensation—the cause must be +sought in certain neuropathic conditions of the subjects.”</p> + +<p>No attempt is made by Moreau to define genius or to +attach a psychological meaning to the term. In his examples +he treats all men as geniuses who have accomplished +anything famous in any department, without regard to their +psychical divergencies. He might therefore just as well +have stated his proposition in these terms: All men who +have ever accomplished anything very remarkable were insane. +This seems to be a fair statement of his real position.</p> + +<p>This opinion was supposed to have been completely confirmed +by the discovery of the many “morbid symptoms” +which men of genius present. Moreau collected a very considerable +number of such cases, which have been injudiciously +accepted by the other authors who have elaborated the +same theme, and have received great accessions from new +discoveries. One of the most comprehensive works in this +department is that of Lombroso, whose book⁠<a id="FNanchor_52_52" href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> has created a +general sensation. Extensive as it is, its author makes no +attempt to define genius, but seems to regard the meaning +of the word as well settled. In the chapter entitled The +Physiology of Genius, in which we might expect to find the +writer’s opinion upon this point set forth, he tells us that +men of genius commonly have cold feet and warm heads, +etc., but unfortunately omits to inform us what he means by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>a man of genius. Throughout the book all sorts of men +who have ever attained any sort of eminence are adduced +as examples of men of genius. Such characters as Columbus +and Donizetti are treated promiscuously. The greatest +men in the history of art and science are placed cheek by +jowl with any weak-minded persons whose names have by +some accident come before the public. Lombroso’s conclusion +is that “between the physiology of the man of genius +and the pathology of the insane there are not a few points +of agreement.” At the same time, in the book of which we +are speaking, he says that there have been men of genius +who, “allowance being made for some eccentricities of +sense,” have never become insane. His list of these “sane +geniuses” is “Spinoza, Columbus, Dante, Michel Angelo,” +etc.—a wonderfully harmonious assemblage. But subsequent +studies have led this distinguished writer to modify +this last opinion, and he has since declared that “cases of +genuine men of genius in which anomalies are wanting are +probably illusory. In such cases either anomalies have +escaped notice or defective data prevent our knowing of +them.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_53_53" href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> What a pity that we neither know what he means +by “genuine men of genius” nor by “anomalies”!</p> + +<p>Before we go on to examine the numerous “morbid +symptoms of genius” which Moreau and Lombroso are +supposed to have discovered, let us briefly call to mind in +what way we have come to specify certain phenomena as +symptoms of mental derangement.</p> + +<p>Psychiatry is, more than others, an empirical science. +Whatever we know about it we have learned by experience +and observation. As I have repeatedly insisted, neither in +somatic nor in psychical medicine are there any sharp +boundaries between health and disease. In reference to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>body, “feeling well” is the chief mark of health. Everybody +who is sick knows it. Connected with the majority +of diseases there are positive pains, in consequence of which +those who are taken ill send for the doctor. Pain has +rightly been called the sentinel of health; but with the +mind it is otherwise. Here there is no such connection between +health and feeling well. The illness gives no pain, +at least not directly; and the patient is in very little condition +to say whether he is well or not. On the contrary, +the consciousness of being deranged is recognised as the +most marked symptom of convalescence. The question has +here to be decided in quite other ways. Disease is not an +entity, and no precise definition can be given of it. The +chief point upon which the decision must turn is the person’s +ability to do his duties to society.</p> + +<p>We have learned by experience that there are certain +typically recurring forms of a psychical process in which a +disorder of self-consciousness has taken place, so that the +persons affected were deprived of their self-control. We +have become acquainted with well-marked cases in which +a general decay of the mental powers commenced; and this +has gone on until the capacity of the patients for business +has sunk to nothing, etc. In this purely experimental way +we have come to recognise classes of mental diseases which +are marked by certain phenomena and by a certain course.</p> + +<p>The next step in the progress of science was the comparison +of the psychological conditions of those who were +undoubtedly insane with mentally sane men. Here we had +a right to the premises that on the one side we had minds +mentally sound, and on the other minds mentally deranged. +Having studied the psychological distinctions between the +two, psychiatrists came to recognise the so-called symptoms +of insanity.</p> + +<p>It is important to remark that, although the aggregate +of the symptoms constitutes the disease, yet it was not the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>symptoms which primarily presented themselves to our +recognition. On the contrary, we first attained it by the +study of the single elements of the diseases. For example, +in early times hallucinations were explained in all sorts +of mystical ways, as seeing ghosts, divine visions, suggestions +of the devil, etc.; but by the study of mental diseases +psychiatrists came to recognise that in such cases hallucinations +are extraordinarily frequent. They thus become +accustomed to consider the occurrence of hallucinations as +in every case a morbid symptom. In fact, it became apparent +that wherever there were illusions of the senses, as +a rule, a mental disorder could be made out.</p> + +<p>By a further study of the symptoms and of the course of +mental diseases, psychiatrists ultimately became able to diagnose +mental derangements at a time at which ordinary +people would have been able to perceive little or no alteration +of the mental processes of the patients. All this rests +solely on experience. Only through experience has it come +to pass that we can now, on recognising a certain set of +symptoms, predict a certain course of the psychical process.</p> + +<p>Should our experiences in the department of psychiatry +receive an augmentation, we shall have every reason to be +thankful; for, in spite of all our efforts, we stand upon the +threshold of the science. But every new experience brings +new difficulties with it, for it is from experience that we +have to draw our conclusions. Now, new experiences often +wreck our finest theories, in one or other of two ways—namely, +first, by not confirming them, or, secondly, by conflicting +with them. That is the way with unprejudiced +tests and objective judgments.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, after a great number of mental maladies, +such as paranoia, progressive paralysis, certain forms of +melancholia, mania, etc., had been found to be accompanied +by hallucinations as an important symptom, the discovery +was made that a great number of famous men—the so-called +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>men of genius—were equally subject to deceptions of the +senses. What does that show? Does it show that those +men were insane? Such is the inference drawn by Moreau +and Lombroso. But is it logical? Why not rather conclude +that hallucination is not such an unfavourable symptom +as we had supposed?</p> + +<p>Moreau and Lombroso take it for granted that hallucinations +only occur in mental disease. How do they prove +that? Do not the very facts they adduce, if they be facts, +disprove it?</p> + +<p>We find a man full of crazy notions, with his self-consciousness +gone, or with general loss of intelligence; and +we mark him as unquestionably insane, and proceed to +study the phenomena of his mind as symptoms of insanity. +We meet another man whose achievements are positively +great, who has, all his life long, excited the admiration and +astonishment of his fellows, and who behaves in the most +complete consciousness of what he is about. Ought we not +to reckon him as sane beyond a doubt, and take his psychological +processes as the very type of purely healthy phenomena?</p> + +<p>Charles Lamb⁠<a id="FNanchor_54_54" href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> says, “It is impossible for the mind to +conceive of a mad Shakespeare.” There is much truth in +that. Shakespeare, however, is only known to us as a poet. +Goethe is a better example, because we know him as a +man as well. Indeed, we have a clearer insight into his +inmost feelings than we have into those of almost any man +that ever lived. If we wish to call up the typical idea of +a perfect man we naturally think of Goethe. Whoever +came into personal contact with him was ravished of his +soul and inspired by the greatness of his mind. Heine, +the poet of the senses, greets him as a “fiery spirit with +eagle wings, as a genius of the whirlpool from top to toe”; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>the Christian enthusiast Lavater terms him a genius whose +characteristic was love; the sensible Jung-Stilling regrets +that so few people were acquainted with the heart of this +admirable man with the great, clear eyes, the beautiful +brow, and the stately stature; the forcible Klinger writes +that posterity will be astounded that such a man ever lived; +and the poetical philosopher Jacobi holds it as impossible +for any one who had not seen and heard Goethe to conceive +of this extraordinary creation of God. It is ridiculous +to desire that he should think and act otherwise than +he does; that does not mean that no change could make +him finer or better, but that no change would be possible +any more than the flower could bloom otherwise, the grain +could ripen otherwise, or the tree could grow and crown +itself otherwise than it does. When he would walk down +the Rhine between Lavater and Basedow—“a prophet to the +right, a prophet to the left, and the world-child in the middle”—there +was a picture of how he understood everybody +and had something to proffer to everybody. It was because +he aimed at all-sidedness, at a full and free humanity; and +Wieland acknowledges that never in God’s world did a +son of man show himself who so combined all that was +good and all that was mighty, who so deeply impressed +himself upon every soul, and yet who lived so entirely +within himself.</p> + +<p>In entering upon the psychological analysis of Goethe, +we are justified in assuming as a premise that we have +here a case of a mentally sound man. Whatever we may +find, however uncommon it may be, must be set down as +a healthy condition. If, then, Goethe, as we have seen, +was subject to occasional illusions of sense, it would be +illogical to infer that Goethe was insane. We must rather +conclude that we have been in error if we have been supposing +that deceptions of sense occur only in the insane; +and the problem set before us is to ascertain the distinction +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>between the hallucinations of the sane and the hallucinations +of the insane.</p> + +<p>It might be objected that, in spite of Goethe’s greatness +of mind, there was a supervenient morbid condition. But +this assumption is directly contradicted by the fact that +deceptions of sense are relatively frequent among famous +men. Hence, even Moreau does not say that there is a +supervenient disease by the side of, and in spite of, the +mental greatness, but holds the latter to be itself a sign +of incipient insanity.</p> + +<p>I am therefore of the opinion that the sporadic sense-deceptions +of famous men, like other so-called “morbid +symptoms of genius” which we shall have to consider, can +not be regarded as morbid symptoms, but that they are +phenomena of health which it is the task of science to explain +and account for.</p> + +<p>The chief condition of mental sanity, as I have already +several times remarked, is a well-proportioned development +of the different psychical factors. But as in the development +of the different mental faculties, so also in their proportion +to one another, a certain latitude of health is to be allowed. +In one man fancy is preponderant; in another, consecutive +thought; while a third may have particularly strong feelings +as his characteristic. Yet we have no reason to say +that these minds transgress the border of health. It is the +difference in the relation of the different psychical elements +that makes the diversity of men’s characters. Now we +know that there are no two characters in the world that +are precisely alike. It follows that there is no norm for +these relations.</p> + +<p>The higher the grade of development of the genius and +of the individual, the more prominent will differences of +psychical factors become, and a correspondingly greater +latitude of health must be allowed. If a sculptor models +a small statue, and in doing so makes a slight error, so that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>there is a difference between the two sides, probably it will +strike nobody. But let the statuette be five times larger, +and the difference will become prominent, though the proportions +should remain the same. In like manner, for persons +of the highest mental development—the so-called +geniuses—we have to use a larger measure. They appear +to us like ordinary men seen through a magnifying glass.</p> + +<p>We now proceed to examine the different symptoms +which have been discovered in great men, and to endeavour +to ascertain the distinctions between these and symptoms of +insanity.</p> + +<p>Moreau and Lombroso have collected a large catalogue +of famous men who are said to have experienced hallucinations. +I will not enumerate them all, but among them are +Napoleon, Luther, Bernadotte, Benvenuto Cellini, Byron, +Cardanus, Cromwell, Socrates, Brutus, etc.</p> + +<p>It must be remarked at the outset that all the data are +extremely doubtful. Everybody knows how the lives of +great men become daubed over with anecdotes and tales, +how—in part consciously, in part unconsciously—the facts +are enveloped in a tissue of the most wonderful legends, +until each great historical figure becomes surrounded by a +nimbus. These inventions mingle with the real events; one +writer copies them from another; the original documents +are lost; and the tale becomes universally accepted as a +fact.</p> + +<p>Every psychiatrist is well aware that it is not always an +easy matter to make certain that there are hallucinations, +even when the patients are under our eyes. Neither the +testimony of the patients themselves nor that of their guardians +is, as a rule, sufficient to exclude the possibility of +error; and the physician will, in most cases, form his judgment +only upon his own personal observation. When it +comes, then, to a notice, by a writer who has copied from +some previous writer, of some hallucination that somebody +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>is supposed to have had several centuries ago, the fact cannot +but be regarded as dubious. Plutarch, for example, +informs us that during the night before the battle of Philippi +the ghost of murdered Cæsar appeared to Brutus. +Are we to accept this as a case of hallucination, without +further information, or not? We should like to cross-examine +the witness; at least to inquire whence he got his +information. But that can not be done. Here is the whole +passage:⁠<a id="FNanchor_55_55" href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> “It was late one night. The tent of Brutus was +dimly lighted, and a deep silence reigned over the whole +camp. He himself was sunk in thought, when he suddenly +thought he heard somebody coming. He looked +toward the door, and saw there a dreadful and extraordinary +sight. It was a dismal, frightful figure which silently +stood by him. He ventured to ask it, ‘Who art thou, man +or god? What wouldst thou? Why comest thou to me?’ +The ghost answered: ‘Thy evil spirit, Brutus. At Philippi +thou shalt see me.’ And Brutus without being terrified, +answered, ‘So be it.’”</p> + +<p>Plutarch gives no authority for this statement. How +can we determine to-day whether the narrative has any +truth in it, or whether Plutarch has not repeated an unfounded +legend? In another place⁠<a id="FNanchor_56_56" href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> we read: “During +that night the spirit is said to have appeared a second +time before the eyes of Brutus. Its appearance was the +same; but this time it disappeared without uttering a +word.” But Plutarch adds: “It is true that Publius Volumnius, +a philosophical man and a follower of Brutus +from the beginning to this battle, does not mention this portent.” +Plutarch thus seems to be himself doubtful about the +fact. But even supposing Brutus really told of it, would +that be proof of a hallucination? Might it not, considering +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>that it happened in the night, have been a vivid dream +which Brutus, excited, as we may easily imagine him to +have been, mistook for a reality?</p> + +<p>Of Cromwell, Moreau tells us that once in his youth he +was lying tired on his bed, but not yet asleep, when a +woman of gigantic stature appeared to him and told him +that he would be the greatest man of England. But who +shall prove that Cromwell, while he lay on the bed, had +not fallen asleep, so that it was only a dream? Or who +will vouch for it that the worthy Cromwell may not have +been partaking of the ale of merry England?</p> + +<p>To prove that Luther was a hallucinant, Lombroso adduces +the following narrative of the great reformer himself: +“When, in the year 1521, I lived in my Patmos, in a +room in which nobody except two pages who brought me +my food ever set foot, one evening while I lay in bed I +heard the hazelnuts move in their sack, and quite spontaneously +throw themselves against the roof and all about +where I lay. I was scarcely asleep when I heard a great +noise, as if a quantity of nuts had been poured out. I raised +myself and called out, ‘Who art thou? I commit myself to +Jesus Christ.’” Here, then, Luther himself admits that during +the last event he was asleep. This circumstance, certainly +significant to a psychiatrist, is left entirely unmentioned +by Radestock, who reports the fact. Who knows in +what form the story will next appear? Isolated hallucinations +occurring at night in bed are, in all cases, decidedly +questionable.</p> + +<p>Hagen emphasizes this circumstance in patients: “At +the commencement of insanity, and indeed throughout its +course, vivid dreams are narrated by patients as if they +were real events. They will say that they have been to one +place and another during the night, or that they have seen +heaven with all the angels. The true state of things may +either be plain enough or, when patients sophisticate the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>dream in their memory, no little pains and penetration may +be requisite not to be misled, so as to take the dream for a +subjective perception in the waking state.”</p> + +<p>This is a fair sample of the whole material; and I must +openly confess that I should not easily be induced to erect +a scientific theory upon such observations. At the same +time, it is desirable to collect as many data as possible, in +order to augment our stock of knowledge of great men. +Yet we must not allow ourselves to be seduced into drawing +positive conclusions from such uncertain facts.</p> + +<p>But how sceptically soever we may approach these narratives, +which are certainly in part legendary, they nevertheless +contain some facts which cannot be avoided. That +great men, as the example of Goethe shows, have had illusions +of sense is an undeniable fact; and this is a phenomenon +which we must endeavour to explain.</p> + +<p>It is to be remarked at the outset that for the correct +diagnosis of a case of hallucinations the most detailed +knowledge of the phenomena of the case is requisite, for +there are most diverse varieties of hallucinations; and their +occurrence depends upon the most manifold psychological +conditions. To enter upon all the facts and upon the different +theories is, of course, not possible in this place. For +such information the reader is referred to the extensive +literature of the subject. There are only one or two points +that I desire here to touch upon in order to avail myself +of the knowledge of psychiatrists for the special inquiry +now in hand.</p> + +<p>Since Esquirol, who first thoroughly investigated the +subject, psychiatrists have distinguished two classes of deceptions +of sense. The first are those which are not suggested +by any outward appearance; these are termed <i>hallucinations</i>. +In the second there is an outward object exciting +sensations which are misinterpreted in the percept, and +filled out with imaginary details, so as to appear in a falsified +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>form; these phenomena are termed <i>illusions</i>. The two +kinds of phenomena pass gradually the one into the other, +so that in many cases it is impossible to distinguish between +them.</p> + +<p>It has been remarked above that certain hallucinations +of the insane have their perfect analogue in the reproductive +power of sense-impressions. We can reproduce in the +mind any object which we have often seen. This power +is developed in very different grades in different persons. +Usually the reproduced image is decidedly weaker than its +original, both in its outlines and in its colour. In rare cases +we find the reproductive power so much heightened that +the reproduced image is almost equal to the original percept. +Thus Lombroso⁠<a id="FNanchor_57_57" href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> reports of a painter that “he was +able to sketch as many as three hundred portraits a year. +He only needed to look at a person attentively for half an +hour, and after that could call up a hallucinatory vision of +him which he would proceed to copy in painting with as +much distinctness and confidence as if he were looking at +a real person.” This case is nothing but an intensification +of a healthy action, much to the advantage of the artist +concerned. It is certainly offensive to call such a gift by +the name of hallucination. That, however, is a mere question +of the usage of language. At any rate, such a phenomenon +ought not to be confounded with insane hallucinations, +for in the painter the action was under his control. +He called up the “hallucination,” if you will call it so, when +it served his purpose to do so, and dismissed it when it had +served his turn. The hallucinations which torment and affright +persons of diseased minds arise spontaneously and +will not go at the patient’s bidding.</p> + +<p>Meantime it is very doubtful whether the artist’s recollected +image was really as distinct and definite as the original +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>percept. To determine that would require evidence +of a widely different kind from the report of the writer Ball, +who was Lombroso’s informant. The fact that the painter +was able to distinguish the recollected image from an object +of direct visual perception, and did not mistake the +face recollected for a face really there, would seem to show +that his image differed from a perceived image somewhat in +the same manner as do the recollections of ordinary people. +But however that may be, such a phenomenon is certainly +in no wise a morbid symptom.</p> + +<p>Goethe describes the same faculty in himself. “My sensuous, +apprehensive power is of so unusual a sort that I +retain all outlines and forms most sharply in my memory; +but I am moved in the most lively way by misshapen and +defective forms.... Without that capacity for sharp apprehension +and impression I could not have produced my +characters so vividly and sharply individualized. This distinctness +and precision led me, for many years, to entertain +the delusion that I possessed a vocation and talent for +drawing and painting.”</p> + +<p>If we consider Goethe, as above suggested, as an ordinary +man whose mental powers are seen under a magnifying +glass, we shall find it quite a matter of course that +the intensity of his reproduced images should be increased +relatively to the intensity of his directly perceived images +in the same proportion as all the other psychical factors. +Hence, if we find that the distinctness of his perception is +not exceeded by that of his memory, this is a phenomenon +which differs as widely as possible from an insane hallucination, +and it betokens rashness and want of good sense to call +his condition morbid.</p> + +<p>In another passage Goethe describes a state dependent +partly upon an excitation of the retina and partly upon +heightened ideation, so falling into the class, not of hallucinations, +but of illusions: “If I shut my eyes and, letting my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>head hang down, thought of a flower in the middle of my +field of vision, it did not endure an instant in its first shape, +but separated, and from its interior a new flower unfolded +itself of coloured and also green leaves. It was not a natural +flower, but a fantastic yet regular one, like the conventionalized +rosettes of the carver. It was impossible to fix +the sprouting creation; yet it lasted as long as it was pleasing +to me, without fading and without brightening. I +could produce the same effect by thinking of the ornament +of a variegated disk; and this immediately underwent a +change starting at the middle and proceeding to the periphery, +just like the subsequently invented kaleidoscope.”</p> + +<p>Just as sense-impressions can be simply called back to +memory, so also new combinations arise by fancy, which +therefore have the character of original creations. In persons +whose fancy is powerful, the images of fancy, altogether +in the same way as those of memory, can become so +clear and distinct as to be very near to actual percepts. +Lombroso reports: “The painter Montina thought he saw +his pictures before him before he had painted them. When +one day somebody stood between him and the place where +he thought he saw his picture he bade him stand aside, so as +to let him see what he was painting from.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_58_58" href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Here again the image was voluntarily excited, so that a +doubt must remain as to whether it equalled a real sense +image in clearness. The painter’s bidding anybody who +stood in the way to step aside was quite a matter of course. +When we wish to reproduce a former impression of sense +we try first to shut out all other impressions of that sense. +When we wish to call up the image of a person we always +shut our eyes. With open eyes most people are, however, +capable of making such a reproduction, provided that none +but lifeless objects are in the field of vision. But in talking +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>to one person and fixing the traits of his countenance, few +people are able to call up the image of another person at +the same time. In the same way, very few can recall one +melody while another is heard.</p> + +<p>Such phenomena are by no means rare among artists of +lively fancy. They have nothing in common with the hallucinations +of insanity. Hagen, therefore, calls them pseudo-hallucinations, +Baillarger psychical hallucinations, and Kahlbaum +apperceptional hallucinations. Von Krafft-Ebing⁠<a id="FNanchor_59_59" href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> +says: “Among artists this gift is found both in a simply +reproductive and also in a fancifully deforming mode. The +striking art of delineation of many an eminent dramatic +artist, the plastic power of description of a Goethe, Ossian, +or Homer, suggest such an endowment. Among some +composers, too, the fineness of the instrumentation and the +timbre of their tone poems lead us to suspect a specially +fine and lively faculty of reproduction of their acoustic +memory. Persons extraordinarily gifted in sensuous faculties +can create hallucinations more easily than do those who +are poor in fancy and who live in the realm of abstract ideas. +This will readily be admitted. Even their recollections can +sometimes be voluntarily raised to a plastic distinctness approaching +hallucination.”</p> + +<p>So far, we have only considered cases in which deceptions +of sense were voluntarily called up, whether by a +specially strong faculty of reproduction or by a play of +fancy. The subjects were quite aware that the object before +them was fantastic and not real.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, it is recorded of a considerable number +of famous men in different departments that they have +had deceptions of the senses which arose independently of +their will, and were consequently genuine hallucinations. +Among these we must place many religious visions, such as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>those of St. Paul and other saints. Luther insists that he +often saw the devil; and on one celebrated occasion he +threw the inkstand at him.</p> + +<p>Whether such deceptions of sense are to be regarded as +morbid or not opinions differ. Many psychiatrists speak of +hallucinations, and consider them compatible with complete +health. Others hold that they are always symptoms of +mental disorder. Hagen⁠<a id="FNanchor_60_60" href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> occupies a peculiar position on +this question, for he takes hallucinations to be invariably +morbid symptoms, yet not symptoms of mental disease. This +is connected with his theory that hallucination is a phenomenon +of convulsion of certain blood vessels which I cannot +here further set forth.</p> + +<p>There is a quite arbitrary separation of psychical and +somatic conditions at the bottom of this view. What Hagen +means is, that the cause, or somatic concomitant, of the hallucination +is a convulsion. It is presumable that every mental +process whatever has a somatic concomitant, or “cause,” in +the organic vehicle of the soul. Hallucinations may have +different somatic concomitants from other mental processes, +but they cannot be supposed to be peculiar in merely having +somatic concomitants. There are some diseases of the +brain which are accompanied by no symptoms of derangement +of the mind, and are therefore exclusively somatic +diseases. But just as soon as the stimulation of a path of +sense enters into a psychical metamorphosis, we have to do +with a mental process. If this is morbid, we have to do with +a symptom of mental disease.</p> + +<p>That which determines Hagen to pronounce hallucination +under all circumstances to be a proof of a morbid state +is its relative infrequency. “Hallucination is in every case +a condition departing from the norm.” But if everything +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>which “departs from the norm” is to be called morbid, then +we return to the proposition that genius is morbid, since it +“departs from the norm”; for the “normal” man is a +tradesman and no “genius.” But I can only meet Hagen +with his own maxim, “<span lang="la">Quod sola affirmatione affirmatur, +sola negatione negatur.</span>”</p> + +<p>It is a fact of daily observation that hallucinations can be +produced by suggestion, and that not only in hypnosis but +in the ordinary condition. If a woman who has never been +electrified, and is therefore somewhat nervous, has the electrodes +of a galvanic battery placed upon her head without +the circuit being closed, while the faradic apparatus is +caused to sound, she will not seldom imagine she feels the +current distinctly, and perhaps complain that it is too strong. +Though there is no current, the woman is positive she feels +it. Every inward excitation, especially every emotion, favours +such deceptions.</p> + +<p>A timid or superstitious person is liable, in crossing a +churchyard at night, to see figures, hear voices, etc. These +deceptions may be of the class of illusions, shadows of trees +being taken for ghosts, and the noise of the foliage for spiritual +voices; or they may be pure hallucinations, the +pseudo-perceptions not being formed by any outward sensations. +An interesting case is described by H. Moore:⁠<a id="FNanchor_61_61" href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>“A whole ship’s crew were thrown into consternation by +the ghost of the cook, who had died a few days before. He +was distinctly seen by all of them walking on the water with +a peculiar gait by which he was distinguished, one of his +legs being shorter than the other. The cook, so plainly recognised, +was only a piece of an old wreck.”</p> + +<p>A child endowed with a rich fancy, whose mother has +died, may, in the emotion of the pain and the excitement, see +her image in heaven or hear her voice. Such phenomena +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>are by no means rare. They depend upon a rich and vivid +fancy and a powerful emotion of the heart. This play of +fancy, called forth by emotions and moods, has never been +better described, in its external resemblance to insanity, than +by Shakespeare in the Midsummer Night’s Dream:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">More than cool reason ever comprehends.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are of imagination all compact:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One sees more devils than vast hell can hold—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That is the madman: the lover, all as frantic,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sees Helen’s beauty in a brow of Egypt:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, as imagination bodies forth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A local habitation and a name.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such tricks hath strong imagination;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That, if it would but apprehend some joy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It comprehends some bringer of that joy;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or, in the night, imagining some fear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How easy is a bush supposed a bear.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Deceptions of sense arising in this way have their origin +in the most central part of the organ of mind. They are +consequences of ideas. Such hallucinations occur, of course, +in the insane, and to distinguish them from those of peripheric +origin—that is, from those that are independent of +the thoughts that immediately preceded them—Kahlbaum +terms them centrifugal hallucinations, or phantasms.</p> + +<p>As an example of such a phantasm we may instance a +well-known hallucination of Goethe, who, when he was +once riding to Gesenheim, saw his own counterpart riding +toward him. “I saw myself coming along the same path +on horseback toward me, dressed, as I had never been, in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>pike-gray and gold. I shook myself out of the dream, and +the figure was gone. But it is singular that eight years +later, not at all by choice but only by chance, I found +myself riding over the same path in the very direction my +visionary self took, and clad in just those clothes, being +again on my way to Frederica. Whatever the explanation +of these things may be, the wonderful phantom gave me at +that moment of separation some alleviation.”</p> + +<p>The emotion excited by the separation from Frederica +was enough, with Goethe’s lively fancy, to produce the +phantom. Goethe himself judged his condition quite correctly. +He recognised the shape as a fallacious one and +said, “I shook myself out of this dream, and the figure was +gone.” It is very characteristic of the condition that +Goethe should himself class it along with dreams. Obviously, +the actual impressions of sight were, at the time of +hallucination, not apperceived; and all that Goethe thought +he saw at that moment was a painting of fancy, parts of +the hallucination being superposed upon and congruent +with the objects that had been seen an instant before. +Goethe further says that the phantom gave him consolation +and relief. It thus evidently answered to his thoughts; +and we can presume that his fancy prefigured to him the +moment when he should again visit Frederica.</p> + +<p>The circumstance of hallucinations being recognised as +such by the subject or not, is no more decisive for the diagnosis +of the case than is the simple occurrence of deception +of sense. Whether the hallucination is recognised as such +or not depends more upon its contents and upon the metaphysical +opinions, religious turn of mind, and superstition of +the subject. Luther believed in the existence of a personal +devil. His hallucination was the outcome of this belief—that +is, of his ideas. Consequently his holding the fallacious +object to be real was no insane opinion, but was in consonance +with his metaphysics. So it is with the visions of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>saints and prophets. We may admit that a considerable +number of them were insane, but the hallucinations do not +suffice to prove that every one of them was so. He who +has devoted his whole life to religious meditations and tendencies +and is fully convinced of the truth of his faith, who +is penetrated with belief in the presence of a personal God, +personal angels, tutelary spirits, etc., may, on an occasion of +strong emotion, with a moderately lively fancy, have visions +and hear voices, and hold them for real, without in the +slightest degree justifying a suspicion of insanity. Such +hallucinations, called forth by <i>suggestion</i> or auto-suggestion, +occur less infrequently in men endowed with fancy. While +Benvenuto Cellini was praying that God would once more +let him see the sunlight a hallucination came to him. It +was that of a landscape with the sun shining upon it. +Napoleon, before important events, battles, etc., saw his star +in the sky. Pascal, in consequence of a great fright, saw a +precipice before him. If we are to accept Plutarch’s story, +the hallucination of Brutus is explicable in the same way.</p> + +<p>The question whether hallucinations always betoken +some unsoundness of mind can not be answered from a +theoretical standpoint. Like the whole of psychiatry, it is a +question of experience. Should experience show that hallucinations +occur only among those whose minds are disordered, +then we should be right in considering them as symptoms +of derangement. But it is not so. Experience shows +that sane persons, especially men of lively fancy, like great +artists and poets, are subject to hallucinations; and though +such phenomena are exceptional, and in that sense may be +called not “normal,” yet nothing could be more preposterous +than to regard all those great men as subject to occasional +disorders of mind, or as approaching insanity in any way.</p> + +<p>I have shown above what an influence emotion can exert +upon all the organs of the body. A permanent acceleration +of the pulse is, as we know by experience, always a morbid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>symptom. But would it ever occur to a pathologist to pronounce +a person diseased because some emotion—such as +fright, anxiety, or joy—made his heart beat faster? Emotion +may produce in one man beating of the heart, in another +vasomotor phenomena, such as blushing or blanching, and +in a third any one of manifold nervous states, without there +being anything morbid in those effects. In men of uncommonly +strong fancy the emotion may sometimes call up +supervenient hallucinations. But that is merely a phenomenon +analogous to the beating of the heart, which we observe +every day, except that it is relatively infrequent.</p> + +<p>Hallucinations that are held to be true always make us +fear for the preservation of an unclouded self-consciousness +and of an unfalsified reaction between the ego and the outer +world. In deciding whether, in a given case, hallucinations +are to be denominated morbid, the decisive circumstance +will be whether and how far the self-consciousness and free +will have been influenced, and whether and how far responsibility +for actions has been diminished.</p> + +<p>Besides hallucinations, other phenomena connected with +the rich fancy of famous poets and artists have many points +of similarity with symptoms of insanity, and in many cases +may lead to actual insanity.</p> + +<p>Although we have seen that in Goethe’s case the gushing +fancy was always in harmony with the high faculty of +his intellect, and that, in spite of the apparent independence +of his fancy, it was nevertheless directed by the purpose of +an intellectual will, yet in many poets we find this harmonic +interaction seriously disturbed and the inward equilibrium +deranged. Alfieri calls his condition during composition a +fever. He says:⁠<a id="FNanchor_62_62" href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> “That part of composition which I have +called creation is a fever, and during its access one feels +nothing else.” And in another passage: “The whole day I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>pondered as I always do as soon as the fever by means of +which I begin and carry through a work seizes me, I know +not how.”</p> + +<p>Byron owns that his poetry is the dream of sleeping +passions. If he be awakened, he can not speak its language, +which he only knows while sleepwalking. Any shock or +effort awakens the elasticity of his mind and always makes +him what he must be. Of the third canto of Childe Harold, +he says: “It is a fine piece of poetical desolation, and my +favourite. I was half mad, during the time of its composition, +between metaphysics, mountains, lakes, love inextinguishable, +thoughts unutterable, and the nightmare of my own delinquencies. +I should, many a good day, have blown my brains +out but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure +to my mother-in-law.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_63_63" href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> His biographer, Moore, says +that Byron saw only the reflection of his own brilliant ideas +in every new object.</p> + +<p>Although such conditions are not quite pathological, +yet they stand hard by the borders of insanity, and certainly +indicate a decided disposition to mental derangement. Byron +often fell into a state of melancholia, and showed manifest +defects of a moral kind.</p> + +<p>One of the most peculiar symptoms of some deranged +minds is lying. All authors, without exception, who have +treated of hysteria, emphasize lying as one of the most +characteristic symptoms of that malady. Charcot⁠<a id="FNanchor_64_64" href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> is astonished +at the perseverance and energy with which hysterical +patients understand how to deceive those about them. Numerous +examples of the same phenomenon are recorded by +Morel⁠<a id="FNanchor_65_65" href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a>⁠, Lasègne,⁠<a id="FNanchor_66_66" href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> + and others. Delbrück⁠<a id="FNanchor_67_67" href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> has described a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>special form of morbid lying, and has proposed for it the designation +“pseudologia phantastica.” As a general rule, this +lying is not motived by personal interest, as, for example, +to escape punishment or to attain some advantage; but +it is some creation of fancy which is narrated as a true +event. Such patients, mostly weak-minded, possess, in consequence +of their small intellectual powers, a fancy very +rich in proportion to their intellectual function. Such persons +sometimes narrate whole romances as true occurrences, +and may, upon superficial consideration, be taken for intellectual. +Dr. Paul Sollier⁠<a id="FNanchor_68_68" href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> also paints this symptom: +“Among imbeciles, in opposition to idiots, an ungoverned +imagination is often observed. This shows itself in their +love of grotesque comparisons, which prove that they are +capable of associating disparate ideas only remotely related +to one another. This tendency is sometimes carried to an +extraordinary pitch, and gives them a false air of being +bright. On the other hand, we know how mendacious they +are. They are all more or less so. They do not content +themselves with simply denying anything of which they are +accused. They invent a story quite different from the truth. +Some of them do not stop at distorting the facts, but insert +additional details, or make a story out of whole cloth. They +not only do this to clear themselves, or to throw the blame +on their comrades, but even when it is to their disadvantage—boasting +of tricks they have not played, for the purpose of +exciting interest and admiration.”</p> + +<p>While in imbeciles this impulse to express such pictures +of fancy is to be regarded as a consequence of a degradation +of intelligence, a similar condition is found in poetical +men, owing to an overdevelopment of the ideation and the +fancy. Hence it becomes interesting to trace out this +phenomenon of “pseudologia phantastica” in the childhood +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>of poets. Delbrück adduces as examples Goethe and Gottfried +Keller, both of whom themselves remarked this symptom +of their childhood. Goethe tells how he narrated to his +schoolmates histories drawn from his fancy as actual events, +and how he himself often wondered at their believing him. +Later he passes this judgment: “Had I not gradually, in +conformity with my nature, learned to convert these forms +of air and empty boastings into artistic productions, such +swaggering beginnings would certainly not have been without +bad consequences to me. If this impulse be accurately +observed, there may be recognised in it the same pretension +with which the poet, as such, sets forth dictatorially the +most improbable thing and requires the reader to take for +true what in any sense appears true to him, the inventor.”</p> + +<p>In the previous chapter a characteristic of great poets +and artists was described under the name of the impulse to +expression, whose analogue in great men of a different constitution +of mind, especially in those who follow science, +takes the form of a creative impulse. This impulse which +prompts the true artist to abandon himself unselfishly to +his art and to produce what nobody has demanded, and +spurs the scientific man to untiring research and opens to +him new paths, is the most important mark of the truly +great man. Hagen⁠<a id="FNanchor_69_69" href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> says: “Just as the instinct of the beast +impels him to certain actions though they cost him his life, +so is it originally far less a conscious purpose than a force of +nature which impels genius to producing, versifying, endeavouring. +He is filled with one idea, and divided interests +are impossible for him. A heroic genius, an Alexander +or a Napoleon, conquers continually, not from mere desire +of glory or of rule, but because it is his nature to make war +upon others, and because continual victory is his natural +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>need. In like manner the scientific genius knows no rest, +but forever places before itself a new problem. It must +equally always be conquering. The artist must ever be +producing. Each man’s action appears to him to be free +choice. In reality it is so only in a very narrow sense. +Genius acts less because it would than because it must.”</p> + +<p>So says Schopenhauer:⁠<a id="FNanchor_70_70" href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> “Everything comes at last to +this question, Where does the first motive—the <i lang="de">Ernst</i>—of +the man lie? For almost everybody it lies exclusively in +his own well-being and that of those that belong to him. +Hence he is able to further that and nothing else, for no +deliberate purpose, no voluntary and intentional excitation, +can borrow the true, deep, personal <i lang="de">Ernst</i>, nor produce it, +nor rightly replace it; for such a purpose is an attempt to +wrench Nature; nor without <i lang="de">Ernst</i> can anything be but half +willed. For the same reason, persons of genius look out ill +for their own well-being. As a leaden counterpoise will +always bring a body back to the situation which its centre +of gravity requires, so the true <i lang="de">Ernst</i> of the man ever carries +the force and attention of his intellect back to where it lies; +everything else the man desires without true <i lang="de">Ernst</i>. Hence +only those rare abnormal men, whose true <i lang="de">Ernst</i> does not +lie in the personal and practical but in the objective and the +theoretical, are able to embrace the essences of things and +of the world as the highest truths, and to render them +again. For such an <i lang="de">Ernst</i>, falling without the individual in +the objective, is something foreign to human nature—something +unnatural and supernatural. Yet by that alone is man +great. And in accordance with that is what he does ascribed +to something different from himself—namely, to his +genius, which takes possession of him. Such a man has no +ulterior purpose behind his images, his poems, or his +thoughts; and everything personal is but means to those +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>as end. Other men seek the main chance, and generally +know how to advance themselves, for they insinuate themselves +with their contemporaries, ready to subserve their +needs and whims. Hence they live, for the most part, in +good circumstances, while the externally centred man is in +misery. For he sacrifices his well-being to his objective +end. He can not help it. There lies his <i lang="de">Ernst</i>. With them +it is the reverse; and that is why they are small and he is +great. His work is for all time, though the recognition of +it generally begins in future ages. But they live and die +with their day.”</p> + +<p>This <i lang="de">Ernst</i> of the man of which Schopenhauer here +speaks corresponds exactly with the above-described impulse +to expression and to creation. The neglect of personal +interests, the entire abandonment to his work, the restless +strife for an ideal, are characteristics of the great man.</p> + +<p>Here again we remark a surprising similitude between +the so-called genius and many forms of insanity. But it is +merely a similitude, and not an affinity, as Lombroso, Hagen, +and others take it to be. For affinity supposes a community +of essence deeper than mere similitude of external phenomena. +It is this latter alone that we meet with here. The causal +conditions are separated by the whole diameter of being.</p> + +<p>In great artists and scholars on the one hand, and in the +insane on the other, there is a great irresistible impulse +which fills them to overflowing and makes them forget all +personal considerations. But while in the former the restless +compulsion to create, the hot aspiration, is the kernel of +the highest and noblest perfection of man, in the latter there +is a morbid impulse which is usually directed to the silliest +things. Formerly such a state was called a monomania, +since this irresistible impulse seemed to be the only pathological +symptom; but careful observation has shown that +there is always a more general psychical malady, usually +the consequence of arrested development. It is perfectly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>astonishing with what tenacity and untiring persistence such +patients go to work. Trélat⁠<a id="FNanchor_71_71" href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> reports a suitable example as +follows:</p> + +<p>“M. de W. is forty-five years old. He lives almost all +the time shut up in his room, where he is supposed to be +carrying on serious studies. He is seldom seen, and when +he is seen complains of headache caused by overwork and +the fatigue of his continued night labours. He has an amiable +and accomplished wife. People talk to her about the +health of her husband, and how wrong it is for him to misuse +his forces, and beg her to influence him to pursue his +studies with less ardour. She answers sadly that all her +endeavours are vain; but she does nothing to shake the +conviction of his friends, although she knows very well +what she has to endure in this difficult situation. The poor +lady is absorbed by her attempts to maintain the sense and +dignity of her husband.</p> + +<p>“In fact, he employs the whole time passed in his room +in counting how often the same letter—<i>s</i>, or <i>t</i>, or <i>g</i>, or <i>z</i>—occurs +in Genesis, in Exodus, in Leviticus, in Numbers, in +Deuteronomy, in the books of Kings, in the books of Chronicles, +in the book of Jesus the Son of Sirach, in the Song of +Solomon, in the book of Revelation, etc. How many pages +in one book begin with a <i>p</i>, with a <i>b</i>, with an <i>a</i>; how many +end with a <i>t</i>, with a <i>c</i>, etc.</p> + +<p>“Other studies of such seriousness as to cause this man +of science to pass a fortnight without any attention to his +toilette, or even washing himself, consist in counting all the +contradictions he can find in the same author. Having +passed one, two, or three years without interruption in +these works, this indefatigable worker throws himself with +the same ardour into taking his watch to pieces, down to its +minutest parts, and putting it together again. During six +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>months he undoes every morning what he had completed +the night before. Everybody who calls upon him receives +the invariable answer, Monsieur is too busy to be disturbed. +Everybody thinks that this writer is too modest to publish +his book, and will leave behind Titanic works. The poor +wife alone contrives to procure to so utter a nonentity honour +and esteem to the last day of his life.”</p> + +<p>Here is a state of compulsory counting termed arithmomania. +A great variety of such symptoms are distinguished. +These interest us less as such, at present, than +does the way in which they come about, the complete absorption +of the mental action in the impulse, which shows +much resemblance to the creative impulse of men of genius.</p> + +<p>Those patients exhibit the same phenomena who may be +termed inventors and Utopians. They not seldom sacrifice +their means and bring themselves and their families to ruin +by their unconquerable desire of making inventions and discoveries. +They are fully convinced, in their folly, of the +epoch-making importance of their improvements, and all +pains are lost to cause them to desist from their ridiculous +performances.</p> + +<p>Morel had a patient who thought he could alter the +weather and bring on rain. Lombroso reports the case of +a patient who wrote a book entitled Dominatmosphere, in +which he undertook to teach husbandmen how to get two +annual harvests, and to put sailors in possession of a means +of blowing the winds out of their way. The alchemists, +who forfeited their lives in trying to make gold, the searchers +for the philosopher’s stone, were, for the most part, +weak-minded persons of this sort. In modern times perpetual +motion has been one of the great objects of crazy +inventors. Trélat knew a man who had brought his family +to want by his discoveries and inventions. He asserted +that in order to bring a wheel into perpetual motion nothing +was wanted but a supply of still water. In every discussion +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>he objected to the competence of his opponent. To +put an end to this, the physician of Bicêtre carried him to +Arago, who proved to him that his inventions would not +work. The poor devil was taken aback for an instant and +burst into tears; but in a moment he raised his head and +exclaimed with confidence, “No matter! Arago is mistaken!”</p> + +<p>We have seen in the preceding chapter how important +a part feelings and moods play in the psychical processes +of great artists. In opposition to students, in whom +the turning point of their mental action lies in the understanding, +in artists moods and feelings are often the starting +point of their productions. Hence we find that in them +this part of the mental organ has not infrequently an enormous +development. As with the other psychical characters, +so likewise here we find that the high refinement of a +single factor—always, however, in just proportion to the +total action of the organ—produces outward phenomena +having some similarity with those states which are due to +disturbed inward equilibrium, and which we often have occasion +to observe in the insane.</p> + +<p>“Exulting to heaven, to death beaten down,” expresses +a temperament not uncommon among great poets and artists, +causing those oscillations of moods which justify that +reproach of caprice which is often addressed to them. This +is one of the commonest symptoms of mental disease, above +all of hysteria. But the similarity between the phenomena +is merely external. They are rooted in widely divergent +causal conditions. The practised psychiatrist will distinguish +without difficulty between changes of mood such as +Goethe observed in himself, which had their origin in the +highest refinement of the psychical organism, and the capriciousness +of a hysterical woman at whose bidding there +stands always ready, in case of need, a rich well of tears, +whose sluices have but to be opened to allow the never-drained +stream to flow.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> + +<p>The restless energy of great men—who, with a new goal +before their eyes, press ceaselessly forward, and who, as +soon as they have climbed one height of science or of art, +see new heights rise before them yet to be essayed—keeps +them in continual discontent with themselves and their performances.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fate such a bold, untrammelled spirit gave him</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As forward, onward ever must endure;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose over-hasty impulse drave him</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Past earthly joys he might secure.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dragged through the wildest life will I enslave him</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Through flat and stale indifference;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With struggling, chilling, checking, so deprave him</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That to his hot, insatiate sense,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dream of drink shall mock, but never lave him;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Refreshment shall his lips in vain implore.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had he not made himself the devil’s, naught could save him,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Still were he lost forevermore!⁠<a id="FNanchor_72_72" href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>In this destiny of Faust, Goethe painted his own sensations, +and, like a genuine poet, in the particular touched +the general. Goethe felt within him the restless mind +which “drave him past earthly joys.” He himself acknowledged +that he could scarce call four weeks of his life happy. +His feeling of misery incited him sometimes to thoughts of +suicide, though he was always able to master it. He says: +“Among a fine collection of arms I possessed a costly and +sharp poniard. This I always placed beside my bed, and +before I put out the light I would consider whether it +would suit me to strike the sharp point a couple of inches +into my breast or not; but since it never did suit, I laughed +myself out of the habit, and, casting aside hypochondriacal +grimaces, concluded to live.”</p> + +<p>Happiness and contentment are feelings denied to truly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>great men. And hence, as Aristotle says, those who have +been eminent in philosophy, politics, poetry, and art have +been predisposed to melancholy. But this kind of melancholy +is as different as possible from pathological melancholia. +Far from being of a morbid nature, it is an inevitable +and eminently sane consequence of the psychical constitution +of such men.</p> + +<p>In contrast to it stands the self-satisfied good humour of +degenerate simpletons, who are always convinced of their +own merits and live in the most comfortable self-conceit. +The dissatisfaction of the great man, which finds no relief +but in creation and in ceaseless endeavour, is the noblest +mainspring of the human race, to which all civilization +is due.</p> + +<p>In the mode of life of great men we shall find much that +departs from the everyday habits of the conventional son of +Adam. The Philistine, to whom all that is unusual appears +unsuitable, is often heard to remark that great artists and +scholars are all a little crazy. He says so because he unthinkingly +confounds the uncommon with the irrational. +The thinker will judge otherwise. The psychologist’s business +is to ascertain the causes of these phenomena.</p> + +<p>Lombroso has, in his psychological researches into genius, +adduced many such phenomena, and has dwelt upon +their incontestable similarity with the symptoms of many +insane patients. “What is observed in the insane has been +asserted of the man of genius—that he walks solitary in the +world, and solitary departs from it, a stranger to the warmth +of family life and untouched by the charms of society.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_73_73" href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> +But this is not precisely the fact. History sufficiently assures +us that great men are frequently by no means strangers +to family feeling. But what is observable in great men +is that they are relatively indifferent to everything which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>does not answer to their inward endeavours, that the ideas +of which they are full absorb their attention, and that they +consequently seem uninterested in what goes on about them. +For this reason the genius, like the madman, has been called +a stranger to the world.</p> + +<p>As we have already said, such egotism as often characterizes +the insane is in the great man impossible. Self-forgetfulness +is the first condition of true greatness. Nor is it +accurate to call the poet or artist a stranger to the world. +We have seen that Goethe had a rare insight into the world; +nor can we conceive of a true poet without knowledge of the +world. Jürgen Meyer is quite right when he says: “A poet +who should sing what he had not seen and heard, but what +he freely imagined without any experience of life, must sing +without vitality. Creative fancy requires supplies from life, +and can not draw its wondrous threads from out of its own +body as a silkworm does.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_74_74" href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Here, as before, the similarity is merely external, and the +determining causes are essentially different.</p> + +<p>If the conduction of impressions over the nerves of sense +is impaired or destroyed, so that the individual concerned is +in a measure cut off from the external world, his attention +will naturally be more directed to his inner life. Hence it +is that people who become deaf or blind are apt to seem +selfish. But without any defect of the conduction of the +nerves a loss of perceptions may be brought about by a +weakening of the perceptive centres or of the paths of association. +Such weakening, which, in degenerate subjects, is +not seldom very considerable, will, of course, result in a preponderance +of inward perceptions. If there is a concurrent +want of power of concentration of the attention upon outward +things, as there generally is, we have the type of a +person of weak mind, who is unable to comprehend the relations +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>of things about him, who, occupied with himself, +remains a stranger to the world, and who displays a characteristic +selfishness and vanity.</p> + +<p>No doubt poets and artists, as well as scholars, often exhibit +an outward appearance of self-absorption and of indifference +to their surroundings. This is common to them +with many of the insane.⁠<a id="FNanchor_75_75" href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> But how disparate are the +causes underlying these phenomena! With the weak-minded +it is the want of power to concentrate the attention +which renders them uninterested and indifferent to the outward +world; but with poets and scholars it is, on the contrary, +the high degree of that power which brings about +similar phenomena. As we know, the centrifugal condition +which we term attention not only extends its power to the +organ of sense whose action is emphasized, but it must also +be able to order off all the rest of the impressions of sense. +The great thinker appears uninterested in surrounding +things because his whole attention is directed to the well-ordered +sequence of his logical thoughts, to which end, +with fullest consciousness, the outward impressions are ordered +off. The weak-minded man is present at a performance. +The sounds of the words of the orator ring in his +ears, but the slightest outward or inward impression suffices +to make his attention wander. His thoughts ramble. +They are everywhere and nowhere. The mentally gifted +man, on the contrary, constantly has his mind on the matter +in hand. If he wishes to concentrate his thoughts upon an +outward object, nothing that takes place is able to escape +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>him. His attention is stronger than the promiscuous spontaneous +suggestions; and outward impressions of sense +which do not relate to the matter in hand will not be apperceived.</p> + +<p>The average man, when he walks the street, perceives +all the impressions that strike his senses. He meets, we +will say, two persons whom he knows, both of whom look +him full in the face and fail to recognise him. They pass +him by, and at the next crossing are nearly run over because +they do not hear or see a coming vehicle. One of +them is an idiot. His attention is not concentrated upon +anything. He is drowsy, his thoughts breed lawlessly +around, without being directed by his will. The second is +a learned man who is occupied in solving a scientific problem. +He is deep in his logical train of thought, and the +requisite attention has ordered off all outward impressions +of sense.</p> + +<p>We see, then, that we have here a phenomenon common +to the idiot and the genius. Yet how contrary are the +causes of the two phenomena!</p> + +<p>Lombroso sets up insensibility to heat and cold, to hunger +and thirst, as a phenomenon common to genius and insanity. +He brings forward this example:</p> + +<p>“When Beethoven had sat down to compose, and Newton +to study a mathematical problem, they so completely +forgot the needs of the stomach that they would scold the +servant who brought them a meal, under the impression that +they had already eaten.”</p> + +<p>To explain this abstractedness Lombroso says:</p> + +<p>“The unnatural tension of the power of sensation, and the +consequent drain of all the forces and faculties, is undoubtedly +the cause of this surprising behaviour found equally +among men of genius and among the insane.”</p> + +<p>I do not think it is accurate to refer these peculiarities of +genius to a “draining” or exhaustion. On the contrary, I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>would rather explain it by the heightening of the mental +action. In the concentration of the attention upon inward +conditions, in which, as we have seen, the impressions of all +organs of sense not directly concerned are ordered off, the +feeling of hunger will not be perceived. Nor need one be +either a genius or a fool to forget eating and drinking over +an arduous work. Moreover, in extreme idiots, who are unable +to concentrate their attention at all, as a rule a bestial +impulse to eat is observable.</p> + +<p>The insane refuse to take nourishment, or forget their +bodily needs, from a great variety of causes. In one case, +like that of a sane man immersed in his work, the attention +may be directed to inward processes, and all the other impressions +of sense may be ordered off. Only, the patient’s +inward process, instead of consisting in an ordered sequence +of thoughts, is composed of hallucinations, which foster his +whole attention; or he may have religious visions which so +completely absorb all his senses that he not only feels no +hunger but is insensible to all physical pain whatever. +Another patient may decline food because he thinks himself +persecuted, and believes the food is poisoned. A hallucinatory +subject refuses to eat because a voice from heaven has +forbidden him to do so. A victim of melancholia does not +eat because he thinks himself too great a criminal to receive +God’s gift. A hypochondriac imagines his stomach is not +in condition to digest food, and will not take food for that +reason. Another may be unable to assign any reason for +not eating, but still he will not do so. The outward effect +is the same in all these cases. It is the business of the psychiatrist +to trace out the causes, and thus diagnostically to +estimate the symptom.</p> + +<p>We thus see that neither the psychologist nor the psychiatrist +ought to be content to observe behaviour superficially, +but must trace out the motive of it in order to draw +any inference from it. The most absurd conduct sometimes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>has reasons consistent with health, while conduct which +would not surprise a layman at all may be regarded by a +psychiatrist as a well-recognised symptom of insanity.</p> + +<p>A further explanation of many peculiarities of men of +genius is to be sought in their relations to the society in +which they live. A man with a reputation for high talents, +distinguished from his youth for his superiority and genius, +always has his circle of admirers with its proportion of flatterers. +If he had the misfortune to be a precocious child +he will have been accustomed from his earliest youth to the +idea that his genius is far above ordinary men and above the +rules that apply to those men. If such a man is, in later +years, attacked by a competent critic upon this or that +point, or if schools and parties are formed unfavourable to +his method, whether in art or in science, he will, of course, +react otherwise than a man would do who was accustomed +to opposition of every description. He will, perhaps, regard +his just critic as a personal enemy; he will complain +that he is misunderstood by his contemporaries, and his passion +may go so far that the public at large, and superficial +observers among psychiatrists, may consider him to be the +victim of a delusion of persecution.</p> + +<p>Peculiar inclinations and other mental idiosyncrasies +of men of genius can mostly be very readily explained. +Everybody accustomed psychologically to study and dissect +those whom he meets, so far as opportunity is afforded, is +familiar with the remark that each individual of the human +race has his peculiarities, more or less odd, his “weaknesses,” +his <i lang="la">locus minoris resistentiæ</i>, as we say in somatic medicine.</p> + +<p>The ordinary man, if he has the least breeding, has been +accustomed from his youth up to hold in check one inclination +or another which violates the usages of society, or even +perhaps of good morals. He has learned to attend sufficiently +to his own conduct not to allow habits to take root +which might appear unusual or be disagreeable to others. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>But the man of genius is far too much governed by his inward +processes, his fancy, and his work, to pay attention to +trifling details of manner. He therefore appears what he +really is, while the average man would not do this. Consequently +chance peculiarities and special inclinations appear +in the former more than in the latter.</p> + +<p>Thus it is that the behaviour of great men is not to be +measured by the same standard as that of others, that we +have to take account of the motives of their actions, and that +the psychical conditions must be kept in view if we are +to draw any trustworthy inferences from their behaviour. +Those mighty natures must be judged from their own organization, +and not from the Philistine standpoint of the so-called +average man.</p> + +<p>As a further proof of the affinity of genius to insanity it +has been alleged that a great number of eminent men have +actually had attacks of insanity. Among poets are mentioned +Lucretius, Tasso (who suffered from periodical melancholia +with hallucinations and fits of excitement), Lenau, +Swift, and Reinhold Lenz (who died insane). Hölderlin was +thoroughly mad during the greater part of his life. Lessmann +suffered from melancholy and committed suicide. +Von Sonnenberg, Southey, and Ben Jonson were likewise +attacked by insanity. Molière had repeated fits of melancholy. +Rousseau suffered during much of his life from insanity.⁠<a id="FNanchor_76_76" href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> +Gutzkow and Cowper were insane; also the +French poets Berthes, Dubellay, Duboys, Bataille, Baudelaire, +and Guy de Maupassant. Kleist, Merk, Raimund, +Stieglitz, Louise Brachmann, and Nerval committed suicide.</p> + +<p>Insane students of nature were Swammerdam (who +was attacked with <i lang="la">melancholia religiosa</i>, thinking he had insulted +God, and therefore burned his writings) and Albrecht +von Haller (who was also melancholy). The mathematician +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>Bolyai, Cardan, and Johann Georg Zimmermann were likewise +insane. So was the celebrated physiologist Johannes +Müller, who committed suicide.</p> + +<p>Among insane philosophers may be mentioned Auguste +Comte and Engel.</p> + +<p>Of composers who were attacked by insanity, Schumann +and Donizetti are examples. Gounod had a superinduced +insanity.</p> + +<p>Insane painters were van Goes, van Leyden, Wiertz, +Carlo Dolce, etc.</p> + +<p>The question whether we are justified, from the alleged +frequency of insanity among famous men, to draw any conclusion +whatever—as, for example, in regard to a predisposition +to insanity among great minds, more than among +average men—or that there is an intimate connection between +genius and insanity, can only be answered from the +standpoint of experience.</p> + +<p>That is to say, it can only be based upon severely critical +statistics. But we are very far from possessing any data +that are even approximately sufficient. If we are to go to +work scientifically, of what use can a list of famous men who +have been insane be to us? Even were the number of examples +multiplied by ten, what could be inferred? The +question is not whether there have been great men who +were insane, but whether the proportion of those who have +at some period of their lives been attacked by insanity of +different types has been markedly greater or less among +famous personages than among the general run of mankind.</p> + +<p>In order to decide this, we should be in a condition to +state with exactitude what the percentage of insane among +the total population was at a given period of history, how +many men of genius there were at that time, and how many +of these were insane? Such researches must be repeated at +different times of history; then, if they were irreproachably +exact and sufficient, it would be possible that some conclusion +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>might be drawn. But we can not even make such comparisons +for the present day, far less for bygone ages. The +most we can do to-day is to count the inmates of asylums. +But extremely few of those insane geniuses who have been +reported were ever confined in asylums. Most of them belonged +to that class of deranged persons who are cared for +by their family. Manifestly, then, sufficient statistics fail us, +even for the present time. Everybody will see, without +going further, how futile it is to make a list of insane poets +from the early Roman literature to the end of the nineteenth +century, and to offer this as supporting any assertion +of the kind. Do but consider how hard it is for us to attain +any reliable conclusions upon matters much more within our +control. For a long time there has been a serious dispute +among psychiatrists as to whether there is any connection +between syphilis and general paresis. Both are accurately +limited and well-defined terms, and not, like genius and +insanity, two terms, neither of which can be defined. They +are perfectly typical and exactly characterized forms of disease. +Yet all the researches of the two parties have been +powerless to settle the question. The most diverse theories +about the matter still find numerous defenders.</p> + +<p>There has also been an attempt to trace a connection between +genius and insanity through facts of heredity. In +spite of some valuable works in this department,⁠<a id="FNanchor_77_77" href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> it must +be admitted that the observations hitherto adduced are still +far from sufficient to have any scientific value. The fact +that in several families of eminent men insanity has occurred +in no wise justifies us in drawing any conclusion. +In order to do that we must, as in the former case, be in a +condition to establish statistical comparisons which shall be +<em>absolutely exact</em> between the proportionate occurrence of insanity +in the families of men of genius and those of ordinary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>men. The past must therefore be left altogether out of account; +nor is it any exaggeration to say that the difficulties +of establishing the facts for the present time with absolute +exactitude are unconquerable. Independently of all else, +the flexibility and indeterminacy of the terms of the question—genius +and insanity—give room for inexactitude in the +conclusions.</p> + +<p>Every disinterested observer must be struck with the +contradictions and inadequacy of the investigations that have +been made in this field. Lombroso, for example,⁠<a id="FNanchor_78_78" href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> says: +“Galton and Ribot remark that genius is as hereditary as +insanity, and that especially the gift for music, which drives +so many into the madhouse, is transmitted from parents to +children. Palestrina, Benda, Düssek, Stiller, Mozart, and +Eichhorn all had musically gifted children. The Bach +family presented to the world eight generations of musicians, +and among them fifty-seven individuals distinguished +themselves not a little. Among painters of renown, von der +Weld, von Eyck, Murillo, Veronese, Bellini, Caracci, Correggio, +Mieris, Bassano, Tintoretto, Caliare (uncle, father, +and son), all sprang from families which were more or less +occupied with their art. Among poets, Æschylus had two +sons and two grandsons who were poets; Swift was the +nephew of Dryden; Lucian was Seneca’s grandson or +nephew; Torquato Tasso was the son of Bernardo Tasso; +Ariosto’s brother and nephew were poets; two sons of Aristophanes +were dramatists; Corneille, Racine, Sophocles, Coleridge, +were each the father or grandfather of a not insignificant +poet.” But in flat contradiction to this stands the +following assertion of Lombroso:⁠<a id="FNanchor_79_79" href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> “Moreover, the inheritance +of genius does not occur so easily as it otherwise would +for the reason that men of genius are often childless and often +have degenerate offspring, as we see in the lines of noble +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>houses.” Thus he amply refutes his own previous proposition, +and saves other people the trouble of doing so. To +prove his last point he says: “Schopenhauer, Descartes, +Leibnitz, Malebranche, Comte, Kant, Spinoza, Michel Angelo, +Newton, Foscolo, and Alfieri were unmarried; and +those great men who did not shrink from the bonds of wedlock, +like Shakespeare, Dante, Arzolo, etc., found no happiness +in that life.” As if celibacy, or an unhappy marriage, +could have no other cause than impotence! Other psychiatrists +have remarked the sterility of great men. Thus, +Arndt says:⁠<a id="FNanchor_80_80" href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> “Hence we often see, I might say without +exception, that genius makes the summit of the family tree, +or at least is the last living twig of one branch, which bears +many flowers and fruits, but loses its capacity of putting +forth new shoots in creating genius. Thereafter it buds but +scantily, or even loses the power of doing even that, but +comes to an end without progeny.”</p> + +<p>This opinion is somewhat exaggerated, as Lombroso’s +own report shows; and we should lay ourselves open +to the charge of inexcusable superficiality were we to attempt +to erect a scientific theory upon such a foundation.</p> + +<p>It is true that between famous men—the so-called geniuses—and +the insane many resemblances may be traced. +Nevertheless, they are, as we have seen, mere resemblances, +not real affinities. Just as every symptom of mental disease +has its analogue in health, so has it also an analogue in +genius. But, owing to the entire mental action being higher +than in average men, the states analogous to morbid symptoms +here come out more markedly. Genius resembles insanity +as gold resembles brass. The similarity is merely in +the appearance. When we go deeper into the facts we find +the two states so widely disparate that we are not justified +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>in saying that they are allied; still less, with Moreau, that +genius is a morbid condition.</p> + +<p>Finally, let the fact be considered that most of the great +men, both of art and of science, were misunderstood by their +contemporaries, and were only appreciated after they were +dead. In recognition of this truth, Goethe pronounces that +a genius is in touch with his century only by virtue of his +defects, only in so far as he shares the weaknesses of his +times. The genius of the truly great man outstrips, with +its great wing strokes, the rest of the flock. Those who +can not keep up with him can not comprehend him. They +are puzzled at first, and finally set him down as a fool. In +short, they confound genius and insanity.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="DEGENERATION"> + DEGENERATION. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The riddle of heredity is yet unsolved. The seed corpuscles +and the <i>ovum</i>—the male and female germinal substances—through +the coalescence of which the new individual +is created, not only transmit bodily characters from +progenitors to progeny, but psychical peculiarities too, and +thus convey family traits from forefathers to posterity. Of +the fact experience assures us, but as to its biological +causes nothing has been disclosed.</p> + +<p>In the great catalogue of diseases, somatic and psychical, +heredity plays an important part. This has been undisputed +since Hippocrates. In most cases, however, it is not +a definite disease which is inherited, but a diathesis, a predisposition, +a want of resistance to all baleful influences of +the direct exciting causes of disease.</p> + +<p>In this way heredity is an important element in all +pathogeneses, or origins of disease; and it is especially so for +derangements of the mind. The inheritance may either be +a direct one—from parent to offspring—or an indirect one. +In the latter case it is either atavism, or reversion to the +characters of grandparents, or there is a collateral inheritance +from an uncle or aunt.</p> + +<p>Essentially distinct from heredity is gradual and progressive +<i>degeneration</i>—a phenomenon first profoundly studied +by Morel de Rouen.⁠<a id="FNanchor_81_81" href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> Morel schematizes it as follows:</p> + +<p><i>First Generation:</i> Nervous temperament; moral depravity; +excesses.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p> + +<p><i>Second Generation:</i> Tendency to apoplexy and severe +neuroses; alcoholism.</p> + +<p><i>Third Generation:</i> Mental derangements; suicide; intellectual +incapacity.</p> + +<p><i>Fourth Generation:</i> Hereditary imbecility; deformities; +arrested development. With this last generation the race +comes to an end by sterility.</p> + +<p>Besides a long list of mental symptoms, Morel has collected +a number of stigmata, or bodily marks, which he has +observed in degenerate subjects. These are many kinds of +deformities, want of equality in the two halves of the face or +other bilateral parts, irregularities of the skull, protruding +or unlike ears, overgrown ear-laps, squinting, stuttering, +deformed teeth, too few or too many fingers, atrophies or +abnormal formations of the organs of sex, etc.</p> + +<p>Morel called these phenomena phenomena of <i lang="fr">dégénérescence</i>. +This has been translated into German by the term +<i lang="de">Entartung</i>. The German word implies etymologically a departure +from the <i>Art</i>—that is, the species, the normal form—and +might be applied to any chronic disease, whether +somatic or psychic. It need not imply, as <i>degeneration</i> does, +a progressive pining away of the race till it is extinct.</p> + +<p>In the course of time, however, this point has fallen out +of sight. Modern writers, and especially the French author, +Magnan, who has very industriously worked upon the subject, +leave almost unnoticed the question of progressive pining +ending with the extinction of the race, and place the +whole emphasis upon the heredity. Magnan employs the +terms <i lang="fr">dégénérés</i>, <i lang="fr">héréditaires dégénérés</i>, <i lang="fr">héréditaires</i>, indifferently. +Möbius directly declares that it is convenient to replace +the expression <i>hereditary</i> by <i>degenerate</i>.⁠<a id="FNanchor_82_82" href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Thus it is that at present the expressions <i lang="de">Belastete</i> (afflicted), +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span><i lang="de">Hereditarier</i> (hereditary), and <i lang="de">Entartete</i> (degenerate) +are used promiscuously. The fact that such diversity of +expression reigns is due, in this department as elsewhere +in science, to the habit of quarrelling over words instead of +making their meaning clear. So von Krafft-Ebing, for example, +terms paranoia exclusively a psychosis of degeneration, +and, in order to refute Mendel,⁠<a id="FNanchor_83_83" href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> who questions the +degenerative significance of the disease, advances the argument +that paranoia is only found among the “afflicted.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_84_84" href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> +Now, “affliction” and “degeneration” are two entirely different +things, which have few, if any, common features. +Many paranoiacs have perfectly sane children, and therefore +in Morel’s sense they can not be called degenerate. +Paranoia is likewise found in perfectly sane persons at an +advanced age; and in them there can be no <i lang="de">Entartung</i> or +<i>degeneration</i>.</p> + +<p><em>The term “hereditary affliction” means, in psychopathology, +merely that disorders of the nervous system existed among the +person’s progenitors.</em> The man himself may thus not be deranged +at all. In fact, great numbers of the hereditarily afflicted +are perfectly healthy. As I have said, hereditary +affliction plays an important part not only in degeneration, +but in the majority of mental diseases; and consequently +we shall do well to keep the terms “heredity” and “degeneracy” +distinct.</p> + +<p>The forms of disease described by Morel under the name +of <i lang="fr">dégénérescence</i> are referred by him and his adherents, especially +Falret, exclusively to hereditary affliction; and a +“hereditary insanity” without qualification has been spoken +of. But we have seen that, on the one hand, a pathogenic +significance belongs to heredity in most psychoses; while, +on the other hand, it has been proved that the so-called +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>“hereditary insanity” or “<i lang="fr">dégénérescence</i>” is found in persons +who have had no insanity in their families; so that +there would be here a “hereditary insanity” without +heredity.</p> + +<p>These facts shatter the very essence of Morel’s doctrine; +and so it came about that want of clearness of terms has +led to many misunderstandings and much diversity of expression. +If, then, we are to hold fast to the term <i>degeneration</i>, +or <i lang="de">Entartung</i>, <em>this must be understood to embrace all cases +of defective development of the psychical organ</em>. Degenerates +are mental monstrosities; degeneration <span lang="grc">κατ’ ἐξοχήν</span> is idiocy.</p> + +<p>The causes of degeneration—that is, in good English, of +<i>degeneracy</i>—may be divided into three classes, as follows:</p> + +<p>1. <i>Degenerative Hereditary Transmission.</i>—This concept is +essentially different from the above-described simple form +of inheritance. In <em>simple</em> heredity nothing is transmitted +but a predisposition, the individual being radically sane. +<em>Degenerative</em> hereditary transmission implies a diseased germinal +substance, which may lead to progressive degeneration +of the posterity. The disease of the germinal substance +is in many cases due to actual poisoning, more +especially by alcohol. Many authors insist that chronic intoxication +is not requisite, but that if drunkenness supervenes +during the act of copulation, it suffices to transmit a +degenerate state to the offspring.⁠<a id="FNanchor_85_85" href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>2. <i>Intra-uterine Disturbances of Development.</i>—Here are to +be placed infectious diseases of the mother during pregnancy; +bad nutrition of the embryo in consequence of +cachectic states of the mother, such as rickets, etc.; deformities +of the pelvis, and consequent compression of the skull; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>injuries to the head in delivery by instruments, and in consequence +of accidents to the mother during pregnancy, etc.</p> + +<p>3. <i>Extra-uterine Disturbances of Development.</i>—Such are injuries +to the head, infectious diseases, and the like, in early +childhood.</p> + +<p>As regards the clinical portrait of degeneration, there +have been many attempts to divide it into classes and to establish +specific forms of disease under this genus. Morel +divides the degenerate into four classes, as follows:</p> + +<p>The first embraces all those persons in whom there are +no particular anomalies, whether of the intellect or the +heart, but who are characterized by a so-called nervous +temperament. Among them are neurasthenics, hysterical +women, and people who, while very eccentric, are fully conscious +of their own state.</p> + +<p>In the second class are those persons who, while their +intellectual powers are unimpaired, display a decided disturbance +of their feelings and impulses, and consequently +great defects and perversity in morals.</p> + +<p>The third class contains imbeciles whose mental weakness +is limited to the intellect, so that the instincts hold +sway over their understanding.</p> + +<p>In the fourth class are found idiots in whom the whole +mental development is extremely low.</p> + +<p>This and other classifications are purely arbitrary. +These classes gradually pass into one another, and single +examples show the most diverse combinations. In consequence +of the disturbances of development in degeneracy +the quintessence of the malady is to be sought in the disproportion +in which the mental factors stand to one another. +Thus Magnan⁠<a id="FNanchor_86_86" href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> says of the degenerate: “Doubtless the essential +thing is the discord, the want of balance of the mind.” +Hence, in diagnosing the mental state, it is not enough to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>inquire into the degree of general mental development that +the intellect, for example, may have attained, for there are +some men who are dull, as well as those who are bright. +But one main problem must be to determine the proportions +which the different mental factors bear to one another. A +short-legged man is just as healthy as a long-legged man, +but if the relative development of the two legs is different, +one being longer than the other, there is a state of disease, +though each leg singly be sound. So it is with the mental +powers. If the feelings and moods are relatively more +strongly developed than the other mental characteristics, so +that the latter depend too much upon the former, there will +be a relatively hysterical condition. With a disproportionate +development of the fancy, delusions and hallucinations +may occur; while an excessive development of the impulses, +at the expense of the sensations, joined with intellectual +weakness, may lead to moral insanity, since here the characteristics +known as conscience, pity, etc., do not exist. Of +course, these are not universal, unyielding rules, for every +case has its singularities and must be studied and diagnosed +for itself.</p> + +<p>The clinical morbid picture of these degenerates may +be very manifold. As might be expected on theoretical +grounds, there is scarcely a symptom in psychiatry which +may not occasionally be observed in the degenerate, since +the disproportion of the single mental powers among one +another may produce the most diverse combinations.</p> + +<p>That which distinguishes degeneracy from other diseases +of the mind is precisely the absence of any type in the occurrence +and history of its symptoms. While in chronic +paranoia a systematized fabric of delusions is found to which +patients adhere in its unaltered form, and which only at the +end becomes mollified in the general death of the intellectual +powers, in the history of the degenerate, on the other hand, +we find the most variegated medley of symptoms wildly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>succeeding one another. At one time there are imperative +ideas, imperative impulses, and other such supervenient +states; then we see delusions emerge in them; but, unlike +those of the mad, they do not arise and remain systematically, +but are only temporary, and are characterized by the +absence of any marked type. “The fabric of delusions,” +says Magnan, “has in the degenerate particular marks. +Whether it be delusion of greatness, or delusion of persecution, +or religious, or hypochondriacal delusion, or whatever +other variety, it appears without preparation, is often +multiform, and whether it lasts a longer or a shorter time, it +never goes through a series of determinate periods.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_87_87" href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Manifold diseased sensations and impulses play a great +part in degeneracy, and are often motives to the most surprising +behaviour. Magnan has described a great many +impulses and antipathies or syndromes, and terms them the +mental stigmata of degeneracy. The most important are the +following: The mania for asking questions; the mania for +subtleties; the mania of doubt; aichmophobia, or fear of +points, in which needles and all pointed objects put the patients +into agony; agoraphobia, or fear of public squares; +claustrophobia, or fear of inclosed places; dipsomania or +periodic passion for drink; sitiomania, or irresistible longing +to eat; pyromania, or the impulse to set things on fire; +kleptomania, or the passion for stealing; oniomania, or the +impulse to make purchases; zoöphilomania, or morbid love +of animals; onomatomania, or compulsion to seek for a particular +word; arithmomania, or compulsion to count, etc. +These diseased impulses and antipathies, whose number is +very great, never occur singly, so as to form a proper variety +of insanity, as was erroneously assumed in former times, +thus giving rise to the term monomania. On the contrary, +they always form a mere partial phenomenon of a diseased +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>state of the nervous system, consequent upon the discord of +its several factors.</p> + +<p>Here, too, belong the numerous sexual anomalies described +at length by von Krafft-Ebing. These, too, never +constitute a disease proper, but are mere symptoms of a +general malady. If, therefore, it is required of a psychiatrist +to ascertain whether an act which conflicts with +morals and with law is to be considered as pathological or +not, he must not consider that act by itself. He will have +to find out whether or not the mental conduct of the person +who committed it is insane independently of that act.</p> + +<p>The morbid symptoms of degeneracy are, as we have +said, of the most various description, and cases in which the +symptoms are decided can be diagnosed without difficulty. +Since such cases strike even the general public as insane, +the relatives of such patients call in medical aid. The consequence +is that those degenerates that are known to practising +physicians are, for the most part, those of typical +imbecility, perverse sensations, etc.</p> + +<p>It is very different with those <i lang="fr">dégénérés supérieurs</i>, in +whom no direct phobias, manias, imperative ideas, delusions +etc., are present, but in whom there is merely a disturbance +of the mental equilibrium, so that Magnan terms them +simply <i>unbalanced</i>, <i lang="fr">déséquilibrés</i>. In such a person every +single mental faculty may have attained a degree of development +which surpasses the average; and yet the proportion +of the different mental factors to one another may be so +abnormal that the mental balance is destroyed; and thus +the discord may be so prominent that the person in question, +in spite of his seemingly high mental development, +may be mentally deranged.</p> + +<p>An acquaintance with this class of degenerates is important, +not alone for the mad-doctor, but for every physician, +every jurist, every historian, every art critic, every pedagogue. +In short, every person whose duty it is to pass +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>judgment upon men should interest himself in this form of +degeneracy, for men thus afflicted have at all times exercised +great influence upon the arts, the politics, and the +whole civilization of their countries—all the more so that +the public have not recognised that they were insane, but +have allowed them not infrequently to play parts in social +life.</p> + +<p>One of the characteristic marks of these degenerates is +their highly emotional nature and the incalculable oscillations +of their mood. Although in great men, in consequence +of the extreme refinement of their mental organism, +the moods and feelings are capable of very wide modulation, +so that Goethe said of himself that he passed in his +moods from one extreme to the other, yet in them this phenomenon +is strictly limited to their subjective sensation. +Men of undisturbed mental balance remain ever masters of +themselves, and do not allow themselves to be hurried into +irrational acts. In spite of all the oscillations of his inward +state of heart, Goethe, as seen from without, was always the +same distinguished, consistent, imposing figure. This +marked the greatness of his character, the proportionate +development of his different mental factors, his pure harmony +of soul. In spite of the bold leaps of his luxuriant +fancy, in spite of the great exaltations and depressions of his +moods and feelings, the great <i>ensemble</i> of his psychical organism +was governed by his forceful thought; his every act +was guided and determined by his intellect.</p> + +<p>In the degenerate, on the other hand, sudden gusts of +passion and fluctuations of moods not infrequently lead to +the most singular and eccentric acts. Their intellectual +action is not able to set limits to their impulsive feelings. +Inward excitement runs unbridled into outward manifestation. +Irritable to the highest degree, touched by the slightest +impressions, they frequently react in the most passionate +way upon the most insignificant occasion. No occurrence is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>too indifferent or insignificant to excite an emotion in them +which hurries them into the most incredible acts.</p> + +<p>The circumstance that, with the degenerates, the emotion +leads to a total superseding of the intellectual capacity, and +may then drive them, in their utter irresponsibility, into acts +of violence and crime, has often led to the opinion that +there was something morbid in that emotion itself. But +this is a superficial view, not in consonance with the facts.</p> + +<p>A man capable of no emotion, whom no mental stimulus +is able to get out of the common ruts, is like a stupid mule +that keeps on its way undisturbed, without regard for the +strokes of the whip, and with unmoved composure, though a +cannon were discharged by its side. Such dulness is found +among a class of degenerates, including the idiots. The +sane man is usually capable of emotion, but he knows how +to govern and curb it by the action of his intellect. Emotion +in the sane man as an expression of a legitimate sentiment +is beautiful, at times even sublime. This is true even +of anger. The blushing maiden repelling unworthy propositions, +the anger of the man whose honour is assailed and +who seeks satisfaction, have of a surety nothing unwholesome, +and will hardly be confusible with the uncalled-for +passion of the degenerate.</p> + +<p>A phenomenon frequently observed among degenerates is +an abnormally lively fancy, which appears in childhood, and +renders any purposive thought impossible. Such children +are inclined to dreaminess and so-called thoughtlessness. +Their mental powers are sometimes pretty well developed, +but they can make no use of them because their dreaminess +permits no persistent logical thought. They have to be +incessantly shaken up. At school they are inattentive and +never follow the matter in hand. In their earliest childhood +they have lively dreams, often wake up with a dreadful +shriek, in what is called <i lang="la">pavor nocturnus</i>, and sometimes +have deceptions of sense. Proneness to invent stories is a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>characteristic of these children gifted with fancy, and their +tales are narrated as actual occurrences. This is the <i lang="la">pseudologia +phantastica</i> of Delbrück. At the age of puberty +they are often attacked by that kind of self-nursed anguish +which the Germans called <i lang="de">Weltschmerz</i>. They indulge in +sentimental effusions, and often perpetrate all sorts of eccentric +follies. In later life they fall into that class of +minds whom we call dreamers, enthusiasts, Utopians, and +mystics. Their luxuriant fancy, directed by no purposive +will or intellectual plan, attracts them to whatever is occult, +incomprehensible, and wonderful. From his youth up +such a man is not habituated to look plain facts in the face, +but gives himself up to building castles in the air and to useless +trifles. He lives in dream-land; his metaphysics (for +every man has a metaphysics or general conception of the +universe, a <i lang="de">Weltanschauung</i>) is not built upon outward experience, +but is the outcome of his peculiar experience, +which is one of mystical notions spun from the body of his +fancy.</p> + +<p>In this class belong these religious fanatics, the prophets, +the founders of sects, and the like, who in earlier times were +able to exercise no little influence upon the course of history. +Religious enthusiasm and the fanaticism of religious +sects, which linger yet in North America and in Russia, are +in great part phenomena of psychical degeneration. But +in our days the fantastics and Utopians have largely turned +aside from the early forms of religious enthusiasm to spiritualism, +occultism, and other varieties of mysticism. Most of +what is written to-day upon spiritualism, prophetic dreams, +clairvoyance, second sight, and such matters springs from +morbid, degenerate brains, in which the creations of fancy +take the lead, and the intellectual action is too weak to exercise +a rational criticism. We meet such persons in every +department of life. They make their appearance as philanthropists +and as political agitators, discoursing with pathos +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>and fervour upon the subjects they least understand, inciting +one class of society against another, and setting up as champions +of labour and as apostles of freedom. Though they +themselves understand nothing about the matters of which +they speak and write, being utterly incapable of subjecting +their fancies and mysticisms to logical criticism, yet they are +thoroughly impressed with their own merit and greatness. +Their gift of clothing the absurdest notions in fine words +enables them to infatuate the masses, and they often collect +about them a mob of admirers. The untenable and contradictory +character of their doctrines and promises little disturbs +the silly multitude that applauds them, although their +imbecility is readily detected by rational thinkers and close +observers.</p> + +<p>Sometimes it happens that the defective development of +the intellect in such persons affects only one part of it, +while some intellectual characteristics are highly cultivated. +Degenerates are found who have remarkably good memories +and good capacity for learning. They may even acquire +vast erudition, although they have no capacity for turning +their knowledge to account. Their fancy gets the better of +their intellect, and throws the manifold residua of former +impressions of sense into a promiscuous and confused heap. +They lack the power of concentrating their attention exclusively +upon one object. The procedure of their thought reminds +one of a rudderless craft given over to the caprices +of the winds and waves. The extent of their erudition +may, upon a slight acquaintance, lead one to think them +bright and intelligent. But, owing to their lack of power of +arranging their ideas logically, they will never be able to +accomplish anything of any consequence, and the instability +of their mental conduct will not escape the expert observer.</p> + +<p>History is rich in examples of such individuals. The +Roman emperor Claudius, whose imbecility is beyond question, +acquired, in spite of his intellectual weakness, a solid +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>mastery of the Greek tongue, and possessed marked talent +as an orator. He also composed an extensive history. +Apart from these powers, he was a typical degenerate. Before +he became emperor he had a mania for hearing lawsuits +as a judge, and, owing to his simplicity and inability to +reason logically, he was generally the butt of the lawyers. +On one occasion his written decision read that “he gave his +vote for those who had spoken the truth.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_88_88" href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In still other degenerates we find a well-developed action +of the intellect combined with an almost total absence of +feeling. The moral sense, sympathy, pity, love, etc., are +conditions utterly strange to such people. They act from +cold calculation. Selfishness and heartlessness mark all +their acts. Those curmudgeons whose sole satisfaction is +the heaping up of wealth, to whose life all ideal features +are foreign, who stick at no legal means of attaining their +selfish ends, who are not only without feeling for the sufferings +of their fellow-men, but are even cold and indifferent +to their nearest family, belong to this category of mental +degeneration.</p> + +<p>This unfeeling nature, combined with certain proportions +of other mental factors, will result in the so-called +moral insanity, and when prudence is deficient or circumstances +push to it, produce the worst criminals. We often +find not merely a deficiency of feeling, but a positive perversion +of sentiments and feelings. Acts which other men perform +with anguish and horror occasion them delight and +contentment. Where others feel pain and sympathy they +feel pleasure and a glow of comfort. Such mental states +may lead to bestial cruelty and to an incredible pitch of +brutality.</p> + +<p>History affords numerous examples of this. The Roman +emperor Nero had evil inheritances from both parents. Insanity +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>and epilepsy were prevalent in both families. His +father, Domitius Ahenobarbus, was so low in the moral +scale that it was said of him that he would have been the +worst man of his age if his son Nero had not lived. +Suetonius reports that when they wished him joy at the +birth of Nero he remarked, “The offspring of me and of +Agrippina can only be a monster who will scourge the +world.” Everybody knows that the inclination of Nero for +cruelty, lust, and dissipation passed all bounds. His behaviour +when he had Rome set on fire, admired the spectacle +from afar, and recited verses painting the destruction +of Troy, is quite typical of a degenerate. Yet he was not +without talents of an intellectual kind. The vanity which +led him first to appear in Naples as an actor, singer, and +charioteer, and later carried him to Olympia, whence he returned +richly adorned with prizes, was decidedly characteristic +of his mental degeneracy.</p> + +<p>Moral insanity in its furthest extreme is illustrated in the +later Emperor Commodus. As a youth he displayed a lust +and cruelty which amounted to mad fury. His whole pride +was in his extraordinary bodily strength. To imitate Hercules, +he often appeared clad in a lion’s skin and armed with +a club. He appeared as a gladiator seven hundred and +thirty-five times. His joy in murder knew no bounds. He +often had the companions of his orgies slain from simple delight +in bloodshed. It was a pleasure to him to bleed a man.</p> + +<p>We not infrequently find degenerates who, in spite of +their defective development, have brilliant talents in special +directions; and such persons may attain high consideration +on account of their achievements. Their endowments are, +however, always one-sided, and, whatever their capacity, +they are wanting in logical thought, energy, and force of +will. Whether in these cases the hypertrophy or overgrowth +of some parts, with consequent talents in certain departments, +is to be regarded as a consequence of the general +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>disturbance of the development—this partial capacity being +gained at the expense of the development of other parts—or +whether we have a highly refined organism in which particular +parts are atrophied or backward in their development, +we are at present unable to decide. Each opinion has +something to support it from a theoretical standpoint, and it +may be that both cases occur in fact, so that different causes +lead to the same effect.</p> + +<p>Sometimes such a partial development—limited, it may +be, to a single intellectual capacity—is found in a mind that +is otherwise a blank. There have been high-grade idiots +who have had a decided talent for music or painting, and +who have now and then accomplished something remarkable +in one of these directions. An interesting example of +an idiot with an enormous development in a narrow, intellectual +line is that of the calculator Dase.</p> + +<p>A partial gigantic growth is the somatic analogue of that +partial mental development. Of this Ranke says:⁠<a id="FNanchor_89_89" href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> “A +light is thrown upon the morbid affinities of gigantic growth +by the numerous cases in which partial gigantic growth has +been observed. Single parts of the body, especially the extremities, +sometimes attain immoderate dimensions. In rare +cases, one entire half of the body has had a gigantic development. +At other times a single limb, or only one hand +or one foot, or even only one finger or one toe, has been +affected.” Ranke explains partial gigantic growth, as well +as partial dwarfing, as deformities due to perturbations of +development during fœtal life. Here, then, is a perfectly +exact somatic analogue of mental degeneracy. The same +discord between single parts, the same disturbance of +equilibrium, is due to the same general cause—disturbances +of development during fœtal life.</p> + +<p>It is well known that injuries to the heads of children +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>originally sane produce mental degeneracy, and even complete +idiocy. Many writers teach that such injuries have +not infrequently caused hypertrophies of single mental faculties. +Lombroso reports as follows: “Cases are by no means +rare in which accidents, such as usually result in mental derangement, +injuries of the brain, and fractures of the skull, +have converted a perfectly commonplace soul into a man of +genius. Giovambattista Vico in his youth fell to the ground +from a high ladder, and was taken up with a fractured brain +pan. Goetry, originally a simple chorister, became a great +composer after a heavy beam had fallen on his head. Mabillor, +who possessed very small capacities, attained all his +greatness in consequence of a wound in his head. Hall, +who narrates this, knew a Dane who was in his youth semi-idiotic, +and who showed great talent after he had fallen from +a ladder and had struck the ground headforemost.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_90_90" href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The term “genius” appears to be applied by Lombroso, +here as elsewhere, in a pretty broad sense. Moreover, in +many such cases it is impossible to ascertain whether the +mental development took place by reason of, or in spite of, +the injuries of the head. It is certainly possible, according +to the general analogies of degeneration, that a partial +hypertrophy was occasioned by the accident. This seems +the more presumable since analogous cases have been observed +in somatic medicine. Thus Ballinger reports a case +observed by von Buhl. It is that of the giant Thomas Hasler: +“Thomas grew quite normally,” says Ballinger, “up to +his ninth year. About that time he was kicked by a horse +in the left cheek. He soon began to grow monstrously. +He ate a great deal, particularly of butter and other fat fare, +common enough in his country in the Bavarian mountains. +At eleven Thomas was so large that he had to leave off +going to school because the seats were not large enough. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>Gradually the bones of the skull and face thickened, and +that not merely on the side where he had been kicked. +After he was full-grown he ate little. Every motion he +made involved effort and fatigue. He attained the age of +twenty-five, the weight of three hundred and forty-one +pounds, and the height of seven feet three inches.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_91_91" href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The one-sided mental development of the degenerate, +the brilliant gifts in special directions at the expense of the +development of other psychical powers, is generally called +“genius”; and this confusion of ideas, this confounding of +those powerful minds whose high capacity of achievement +consists in a general refinement of the psychical organism +with those individuals of whom instability and mental discord +are the characteristics, and whose partial mental overdevelopment +is a consequence of derangements of growth, +has, in no slight measure, contributed to the belief that there +is a real affinity between genius and insanity—that is, that +those great men who have always decided the fate of mankind +are results of morbid conditions.</p> + +<p>Between the instability or disturbance of the mental balance +and the so-called normal average man there is, as we +know, a gradual transition. No sharp line can be drawn +here between mental health and mental disease. There is +also a gradual series connecting fully endowed men of +genius and those partially developed degenerates. But to +establish any affinity between them on that account would +necessitate an equal affinity between “normal average men” +and common degenerates. The same reasoning would conclude +an affinity between the Philistine and the degenerate +who suffers from moral insanity or imbecility.</p> + +<p>If we are to give the name of genius to the great men in +different departments we might very well term a degenerate +with partially conspicuous development a <i>pseudo-genius</i> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>(<i lang="de">pseudogenie</i>). But to accomplish anything really great, a +partial mental development is not enough. A correct combination +and balance of all the mental faculties are needed +to thread that thorny path and to climb the steep heights +which lead to immortality. Those characteristics with +which we have become acquainted in great men, that of +concentrating undivided attention upon an object, indomitable +energy and staying power, the unselfish, self-forgetting +compulsion to create—these qualities are found in the degenerate +either not at all, or in insufficient measure.</p> + +<p>In those partially gifted degenerates, those pseudo-geniuses, +certain typical characteristics are hardly ever +wanting. In childhood they already show that vanity and +self-sufficient arrogance, that foolhardy conceit which never +leave them through life. While they are still schoolboys +they speak contemptuously of the greatest men of art and +science. Raphael and Titian were bunglers in their estimation. +They compassionately shrug their shoulders over the +“Philistine Schiller,” who ought long ago to have passed +into oblivion. Goethe is no longer “up to the times,” and +his creations have been “greatly overrated.” Such is the +trash which they utter as boys. They learn nothing at +school, partly because they are incapable and slothful, and +partly because they are so convinced of their genius that +they hold learning to be for them superfluous. They are +of the opinion that much knowledge might damage their +originality, their genius, and that their high inward merit +needs no adventitious augmentation. They leave school as +soon as convenient, but not to learn a trade or, by the +study of years, to train themselves to any specialty. They +enter the world at once as accomplished poets, writers, +painters, or musicians. With the most secure self-confidence, +which is never wanting to these subjects, they devote +themselves to the most difficult departments. They +write dramas, novels, and romances, paint, compose, feel +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>themselves to be judges of art and critics, and write about +matters far above their mental horizon.</p> + +<p>Often enough their works carry the stamp of the silly +and ridiculous. In place of the renown and applause upon +which they had calculated, scorn and ridicule are their portion. +But that will not shatter their faith in their own +merit and genius. They rather complain that their fellow-men +do not appreciate them or else envy their powers too +much to acknowledge them. The truly great man who is in +advance of his age and is not understood by his contemporaries +feels an unaffected pain at that; but he wends his way as +best he may, and perseveres in his endeavours as long as +good sense permits him to do so, and very often longer. +The degenerate, on the other hand, is soon discouraged by +failure. He retires from society, considers himself a “misunderstood +genius,” looks upon every man as his enemy, +and develops in later years a decided mania of greatness and +persecution.</p> + +<p>Other degenerates have, partly by their higher gifts, +partly by the want of discrimination of the community in +which they live, greater success with their works. Their so-called +“originality of genius,” which often enough deserves +to be called original madness, is able to infatuate the multitude +who fancy that the gabble of these persons makes a +“new departure” in art and the beginning of a new epoch.</p> + +<p>Well says Kant of this class of men: “But one guild of +these so-called <i>men of genius</i> (better, monkeys of genius) is +placed under this shop sign; they speak the language of +minds extraordinarily favoured by Nature, declare laborious +learning and research to be dull-minded, and profess +to have seized the spirit of all science at one clutch, and to +dispense it in small doses, concentrated and strong. This +race, cousins of the quacks and criers at fairs, is very prejudicial +to progress in scientific and moral culture. They +pronounce in decisive tones upon religion, politics, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>morals, as if they were illuminated and adepts, envoys from +the throne of wisdom, while their secret object all the time +is to conceal the real poverty of their minds. What else +is there to be done but to laugh and continue patiently at +our industry, without regard to those mountebanks?”⁠<a id="FNanchor_92_92" href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Not infrequently the perverse impulses and sensations of +the degenerate are reflected in their artistic production. +The Roman Emperor Commodus had a rough animal +strength. He also had an impulse to bestial cruelty, and +received pleasure and satisfaction from bloodletting and +from the sufferings of others. Now, that impulse, that +pleasure, and that satisfaction were marked in that strength +of his. In like manner, degenerate writers have similar +impulses and sentiments; and they give expression to them +in their writings. Many modern literary men love to wallow +round in sloughs and puddles, to sweep forward what +is dirty and vulgar, and to amuse themselves with such +things. This preference may in many cases be accounted +for by such a perversion of the feelings and by a mental +degeneracy. Other abnormal impulses, especially of a sexual +origin, appear in the works of degenerates.</p> + +<p>Instability and want of mental equilibrium hold the +higher degenerates in a continual unrest. Of patience and +perseverance they have next to none at all. They precipitate +themselves with zeal into a subject, and very soon give +it up. They are mostly occupied with themselves. The +world and all it contains only so far interests them as it is +the vehicle of their precious selves and what can hurt or +help them. In everything they betray the same egoism. +It is typical and characteristic of their souls. Nobler sentiments, +demanding self-forgetfulness and self-sacrifice, are +alien to the degenerate. Hence they are unacquainted +with the ideal feelings of friendship and love. Cicero +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>says: “<span lang="la">Amicitia non esse potest nisi inter bonos</span>,” and he +might well have added “<span lang="la">et mente sanos</span>.” Never among +degenerates can such a bond of friendship be found as is +frequent among great men. Conformably to the proverb, +“Birds of a feather flock together,” degenerates are often +attracted to one another. But their intercourse, rooted as +it is in mere selfish interests and morbid impulses, is more +like that of the inmates of a monkey’s cage than the self-forgetful +and ideal friendship of men.</p> + +<p>The degenerate ever remains a stranger in the world. +To comprehend what goes on in the world, to understand +and appreciate the acts of his fellow-men, one must be able +to feel with them. But the degenerate is either wanting in +the intellectual power necessary to comprehend what is taking +place, or, if that be not his defect, then his feelings and +sentiments are too narrow to enable him to make use of his +perceptions. Hence, when the degenerate poet undertakes +to paint the world, it is not the world we live in that he +brings before us, but a fantastic invention of his brain, the +counterpart of his morbid ideations. In case he belongs to +the subjective class of poets, who embody in art their own +sentiments and feelings, he gives us a peep into an abyss of +aberrations and morbid sufferings.</p> + +<p>It were vain to attempt an exhaustive description of the +clinical appearances of degeneracy. The morbid symptoms +are too manifold, the characteristics too diverse, the combinations +of mental factors in disturbed equilibrium too +numerous, and new phenomena are perpetually presenting +themselves to the most experienced psychiatrist.</p> + +<p>As an example of a degenerate painter who attained +some consideration and was even the originator of a “new +departure” in painting may serve the Frenchman Courbet, +often called the “first realist.” According to Rosenberg,⁠<a id="FNanchor_93_93" href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>who gives a somewhat detailed account of him, he had a +very defective schooling, although his father sent him to +Paris at the age of twenty to study law. His spelling was +atrocious. “The sight of a book excited his anger, and he +recoiled from the presence of an inkstand.” In the genuine +imbecile style he ventured the following judgment upon the +old masters while he was yet a student:</p> + +<p>“Veronese was a superior man, a painter without weakness +and without exaggeration, an honest painter. Rembrandt +bewitches the intelligent and astounds the simple. +Titian and Leonardo da Vinci are impostors. If one of these +two were to come back to earth and were to pass through +my studio, I should go for my knife. Ribera, Zurbaran, +and Valasquez before all excite my admiration. Ostade +and Craesbeek seduce me. Holbein I revere. As for Mr. +Raphael, he has undoubtedly painted some interesting portraits, +but I can find no thought in him.”</p> + +<p>He possessed a quite monstrous self-love, and loved best +to paint his own portrait. “He imagined he had an Assyrian +profile, and that imperative idea only strengthened his +preference for his own physiognomy.” A visitor to an exhibition +of his pictures remarks: “With three or four +exceptions, all the rest represent Courbet himself—‘Courbet +bowing,’ ‘Courbet promenading,’ ‘Courbet standing +still,’ ‘Courbet lying down,’ ‘Courbet seated,’ ‘Courbet +dead,’ Courbet everywhere. Nothing but Courbet was to +be seen.”</p> + +<p>In his morbid vanity he endeavoured, in spite of his +slight mental capacity, to get himself talked about in reference +to every possible subject. Rosenberg reports: “In his +immoderate vanity he boasted that since the cross of +Christ no other cross had been so much talked about in the +world as his own.” His letter to the minister,⁠<a id="FNanchor_94_94" href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> which had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>been composed for this illiterate man by one of his friends, +he had concluded with bombastic phrases which sufficed to +crown him, in the eyes of the Irreconcilables, with the civic +garland of an incorruptible republican. “I am fifty years +old,” he wrote, “and I have ever lived a free man. Let me +end my life in freedom. When I am dead, it must be said of +me: This man never belonged to a school, nor to a church, +nor to an institution, nor to an academy—above all, never to +a government, not even to the government of liberty.”</p> + +<p>Courbet played an extremely ridiculous part in the year +1870, as a member of the Commune, at the pulling down of +the column of the Place Vendôme.</p> + +<p>“Before the court-martial, the poor, vain soul did all he +could to repel or at least to mollify the charge brought +against him. He was punished with that with which he +had erred. He was not a bad man but a mere simpleton, +whom his intolerable self-love had led into a path where he +did not belong. He regarded himself as a universal man, +when he was at best only a painter. His too highly rated +and too much disparaged works had made him known and +had enabled him to live comfortably. His absolute want +of fancy, the insurmountable difficulty which he felt of +‘composing’ a picture, had brought him to found the so-called +‘realism’—that is to say, the exact reproduction—of +natural objects, without distinction, without choice, as they +presented themselves to view. Men attacked the ideas of +Courbet. His pictures were sent back from the <i lang="fr">Salon</i>. He +proclaimed himself a martyr, sincerely considered himself +to be persecuted, and so became a great man. People were +wrong; they should have left him a free field and not tried +to render innocuous the revelations of an undoubtedly imperfect, +yet in many respects interesting talent. Courbet became +a sort of leader of a school, or, rather, head of a sect. +Many nobodies flocked about him and recognised him as +their master. By the side of these naïve persons, who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>dreamed of wishing to paint without having learned to +paint, were grouped banterers who liked to laugh, and for +whom Courbet was a standing source of delight. They +flattered the vanity of this heavy-witted peasant, who replaced +wit with malignity, drove him to all sorts of follies, +told him he was a national economist, a moralist, a philosopher, +and a statesman, and encouraged him to speak, while +they drank the beer to which he treated for the sake of +finding listeners.” Again: “The painter was of the opinion +that the glory of the emperor interfered with his own, +for his pictures seemed to him more important than victories, +than the <i lang="fr">concordat</i>, or than the <i lang="fr">code civil</i>.”</p> + +<p>After he had been condemned by the court-martial to six +months’ imprisonment for the overthrow of the column of +the Place Vendôme and had served out his time, he often +called out boastingly in the streets and on other occasions: +“I destroyed your column. I will pay for it.” Finally he +was taken at his word, and again accused. He was obliged +to flee. After long negotiations an agreement was reached +between him and the Government, according to which he +was to pay annually ten thousand francs. He soon after +died suddenly.</p> + +<p>Here, then, was a mental degenerate who, in spite of his +pathological action of mind, possessed unquestionable talent, +but, owing to lack of ideas of his own, and his incapacity to +produce anything independent, had to content himself with +reproducing what he saw.</p> + +<p>This art of mimicry in itself, joined to that kind of “realism” +which endeavours to elevate the ugly and to suppress +the beautiful, necessarily produced, for a time, the illusion +of originality, with some, perhaps, of genius. Thus it came +to pass that Courbet was almost the founder of a school.</p> + +<p>A great number of degenerates are found in literature. +Lombroso has collected a list of such cases and given them +the name of <i>graphomaniacs</i>. This is not a very happy designation, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>for, according to the analogy of the other manias—kleptomania, +pyromania, etc.—<i>graphomania</i> ought to mean +the irresistible passion to write. It would refer to the physical +action, and would depend upon the quantity of writing +performed. But the majority of Lombroso’s cases are distinguished +by the peculiar contents of the writing, and a +special compulsion to write much only appears in a few +cases.</p> + +<p>The passion for writing is found in different forms of disease, +and there are frequent opportunities to see it in the +asylums. A patient whom I myself had occasion to observe, +a woman suffering from paranoia, had formed a system of +delusions upon which a new religion was to be founded. She +was constantly occupied in the erection of churches and +schools, and wrote about these things almost all day. During +several years she had filled a great number of <i lang="fr">cahiers</i>, and +wrote ceaselessly letters to magistrates, personages of high +position, etc., in which she frequently covered the inside of +the envelopes with characters. What made the case particularly +interesting was that she had constructed her own language +and her own characters, of which she commonly +made use.</p> + +<p>Another case, which was that of a mathematician, was a +worn-out <i>hebephrenia</i>, or insanity of youth, which had passed +over into terminal dementia. The patient answered all +questions with a few stereotyped phrases. Going into his +room, you would usually find him working at his table. He +had, in the course of years, written a stately number of +blank books full, and that in so small a hand that a magnifying +glass was necessary to make them out. He sometimes +wrote mathematical formulæ which for the most part could +not be deciphered.</p> + +<p>The common symptom of these cases might very well be +termed <i>graphomania</i>. Of course, like the other manias, it is +only a symptom, a partial phenomenon of the disease, for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>we know by experience that no monomania exists. Such a +mania can not form a disease <i lang="la">sui generis</i>.</p> + +<p>Lombroso, who repeatedly speaks of “monomaniacs,” +describes “graphomania” as an independent malady. He +says: “A sort of mental disorder which I might call graphomania +forms the link between the fool of genius, the sane +man, and the insane proper.”</p> + +<p>Both Lombroso’s “fools of genius” and “graphomaniacs” +are mental degenerates. In all these people there is a disturbance +of the mental balance, a disproportion between impulse +and intellect, and in most cases a marked lowering of +intelligence, a general weakness of mind.</p> + +<p>Lombroso divides his graphomaniacs into different +classes. Of one he says: “These are given to excesses, +whether of abstemiousness or of unbridled appetite for food +also to the most singular sexual excesses, which I have cursorily +noticed in my work upon Insane Love (paradoxal, +ideological, zoölogical love). They also have singular fondness +for dogs, cats, birds, etc., and still more singular inclinations +to tear up and destroy, say, costly ornaments. They +throw themselves from moving railway trains. They shun +the light and only go about at night, and not even then unless +provided with a sunshade. They fear abode in closed +rooms so much that they faint if they hear doors shut; or +else they hate being in the open air, and refuse to cross public +squares,” etc. Further on we read: “These men are +often overmastered by a hatred of their fellow-beings. They +withdraw into remote regions, and flee all contact with +men (claustrophilia). Others, again, although they prolong +existence in an evil life, crave society, whose cancers they +are; long for the admiration of others, be it only such as can +be excited by the most insignificant things, such as collections +of buttons and of umbrellas. They let slip no means, +however ridiculous, to draw attention to themselves. They +write love-letters to themselves and read them publicly, or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>smoke Trabucos while they suffer hunger. They strive for +the first places in the <i lang="fr">cafés</i> and in the political clubs. They +found little literary societies, and the more ignorant they are +of the matter in which for the moment they are engaged, the +warmer is their apostleship. Sometimes they are, from their +youth up, incorrigibly cruel, hypocritical, and thievish, make +swindling and thieving their pleasure, and are amazed when +they are punished, although they perfectly know the terms +of the law. But the vanity of these men is almost incredible. +They commit crimes to satisfy this vanity, and they do not +care that what they do destroys their whole credit, nor that +it does not bring them the honour of which they are so desirous.” +This is a picture of typical cases of mental degeneracy, +as we have already learned. The symptom of graphomania +is, according to Lombroso’s own picture, not even +particularly marked. There is a general imbecility which +may express itself in the most various ways. Of another +class of cases Lombroso says: “The intellectual fools are +tireless talkers who are often unable to bring their own flow +of speech to an end. They speak without logical connection, +and almost always reach conclusions contradicting something +else that they had said. This happens more on some +days than on others.” Of these subjects Lombroso says: +“I may add that they are mostly incurable, since their malady +is congenital. They have the morbid and eccentric +elements of genius, without its judgment and creative +power.”</p> + +<p>He then describes another category of subjects, the “foolish +graphomaniacs.” Of the only case he adduces he says: +“Stewart, the remarkable author of the New System of +Physical Philosophy, who struggled through the world in +order to discover the cynosure of truth, asserted that all +kings and potentates of the earth had entered into a solemn +pact to annihilate his work. Hence he sent his friends +copies of it with the request that they would bury them, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>well packed, in secret places, and only reveal the localities +on their deathbeds.” In all probability there was in this +case a system of delusions; and, so far as one can found a +diagnosis on these few words, it would seem to be a case of +paranoia. How Lombroso can call it a special disease, above +all a “foolish graphomania,” is not comprehensible. The +same thing is true of the following case, which is either one +of paranoia or of imbecility: “Martin William was the +brother of Jonathan, who, in a fit of insanity, set fire to the +cathedral of York, and likewise of that John, who invented a +new method of painting. He published numerous works to +demonstrate the possibility of perpetual motion. Having +convinced himself by thirty-six experiments that no perpetual +motion was possible, he experienced in a dream that God +had elected him to discover the principle of all things and +the perpetual motion, which subject he again treated in +numerous writings.” Lombroso continues: “These people +would not appear to be insane were it not that, along with +the appearance of thoroughness and of resolute persistency +in one and the same pursuit (characteristics which they +share alike with monomaniacs and with men of genius), their +writings never renounce absurdities, continual contradictions, +loquacious, foolish verbosity, and another tendency—which +we have found to be the strongest of all in insane +men of genius—I mean boundless vanity.” This is as much +as to say that these people would not appear insane if they +were not what they are; for, according to Lombroso’s own +description, they are degenerate, imbecile, weak-minded men. +That they share a characteristic with men of genius is not +accurate, for, as Lombroso says, their thoroughness and perseverance +are only a false appearance, while genius really +possesses these qualities.</p> + +<p>If we are to attempt a division of degenerates into +classes, the only way will be to follow the plan of Morel +and use the psychological disproportion as our <i>directrix</i>, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>thus bring degenerates with deficient intelligence, with +excessive or perverted impulses, fancy, feeling, etc., under +separate heads. To divide them upon the ground of a not +distinctly prominent symptom would be a regress rather +than a progress in our science. Perhaps the course which +impels Lombroso to select the particular symptom of writing +much may be that this symptom is the only one which +can be communicated through those writings to posterity +and to the researcher in its whole extent, while others—such +as the numerous manias, weaknesses of mind, perversities, +and other weaknesses—require direct observation.</p> + +<p>Lombroso’s designations, “intellectual fools,” “foolish +graphomaniacs,” “fools of genius,” and “foolish geniuses” +lead only to misunderstandings and confusion of ideas, +while it should be our task to make our terms as precise +as possible and keep them sharply distinguished from one +another.</p> + +<p>However various the clinical picture of the degenerate +may be, yet, in consequence of its common cause in all cases—namely, +mental instability, discord of the mental faculties—the +cases always have something to characterize them, and +they give to the competent observer no occasion to confound +them with great, fully developed, and harmonious +minds.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="INFLUENCE_OF_EDUCATION_UPON_GENIUS"> + INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION UPON GENIUS. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It is a known fact that the higher an animal stands in the +scale of development, the more helpless and dependent it is +immediately after birth. The lowest of all classes of animals, +the <i>Amœba</i>, as soon as it comes into separate existence by +partition, possesses all the properties and faculties which are +requisite to its life, or which it ever can attain. The higher +the genus is, the longer the time after the commencement +of individual life before the animal is capable of caring for +itself independently. The highest class, the Mammal, needs +maternal nourishment longer than any other being. The +highest organized creature, Man, develops more slowly +and needs parental care longer than anything that lives on +earth. Among men, again, the rapidity of individual development +is in inverse proportion to the general state of +civilization of the people from whom that individual +springs. Savages develop faster than children among +civilized peoples, and the woman comes to maturity earlier +than the male.</p> + +<p>The rapidity of development can afford no indication of +the later mental powers. A child which at seven years of +age is uncommonly large does not necessarily continue to +grow in the same proportion. On the contrary, it may +turn out a short man; and we often see boys who are small +up to sixteen develop into tall men. Quite as little can we +predict that a precocious child will show distinguished +ability when it grows up; and backward children sometimes +develop remarkable minds. Linnæus, the great botanist, +in his youth so neglected his classical studies that his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>parents intended, on account of his poor progress at school, +to apprentice him to a shoemaker. But a physician remarked +the boy’s talent, and induced them to send him to +the gymnasium.⁠<a id="FNanchor_95_95" href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> Newton was a dreamy child and for a +long time was at the foot of his class.</p> + +<p>Far more important than the rapidity of mental development—upon +which vain parents are unfortunately apt to lay +too great stress, to the detriment of the child—is the uniformity +of formation of the different psychical factors. We +have seen that mental degeneracy does not necessarily +imply a small degree of general development. It mostly +consists of a defective proportionality of the different mental +elements, and a disturbance of inward balance.</p> + +<p>The correct proportion of the impulses to the inhibiting +intellect; the equilibrium between the understanding and +the feelings, between the will, the attention, and the unconscious +action of the brain, of the fancy; a faculty of apprehension +and memory in concord with the other mental +functions; a corresponding action of association—all these +are conditions for sane mental action.</p> + +<p>Sollier⁠<a id="FNanchor_96_96" href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> rightly remarks that the state of the idiot is +neither like that of the child nor like that of the animal, +for in the child, as well as in the animal, the mental characters +are suitably proportionate, and the expression of the +soul shows nothing morbid.</p> + +<p>A rational education must therefore aim chiefly at a +uniformity of mental development. Especially must it +attend to this in the treatment of children that have shown +at home a defect of mental balance. There are children +that from earliest youth have disproportionately strong +impulses. There are others in whom there is a particularly +strong development of feeling and an unusually +tender heart. If such children do not receive suitable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>treatment, their state, which as a rule is somewhat exalted +of itself, may easily pass into hysteria. On the other hand, +many children have very little feeling. In common parlance, +they are “cold natures.” In others, again, the faculty +of concentrating their thoughts is more weakly developed +than their other qualities.</p> + +<p>It is a moot question what influence education can +have upon character, especially how far it is able to correct +disturbances of the process of growth, and thus to prevent +the occurrence of mental diseases. An opinion defended +by many is, that education has no influence whatever upon +the formation of character. It is said that genius, under all +circumstances, be the education good or bad, will “force its +way.” On the other hand, “born criminals,” it is said, in +spite of the best education, are destined to become criminals. +All this I hold to be absolutely false. But the +contrary opinion, which makes the character a product of +education alone, and the whole mental life to depend upon +nothing but the experiences of the individual concerned, is +a downright absurdity. This is maintained by a schoolmaster, +Gustav Hauffe,⁠<a id="FNanchor_97_97" href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> who takes for his motto, “Man is +mentally only what education has made him to be.” Dressed +out in vestments of the most fashionably scientific cut (his +first part is entitled “Analytical and Synthetical Psychology”), +the author communicates his discovery that at +birth the mind of man is a <i>tabula rasa</i> and that the diversity +of its later development is to be referred exclusively +to differences of education and of experience. Were it +possible to educate two men exactly alike, they must, he +thinks, grow up precisely alike. Were a child to receive +precisely the same education and the same impressions as fell +to the lot of Goethe, he would necessarily become just as +great a man. The doctrine is that the whole mental action +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>is analyzable into impressions of sense, their associations, +and ideas due to associative suggestion. From this discovery +the author undertakes to demonstrate the theorem +that “Schiller could never have written Laura am Klavier +if no piano and no Laura had existed.” To examine such +nonsense would be a waste of time. A windmill can not +make meal unless it is fed with grain, as every child knows, +but, nevertheless, it is not the grain that runs the mill, but +the wind. Were all impressions withheld from a man as +far as possible, as in the case of Caspar Hauser, it is certain +that, even in a man capable of developing genius, mental +action would be at a standstill. But for all that, impressions +by themselves could effect nothing were there no +mental powers to react upon them. The best education +can not convert a dullard into a sage nor an idiot into a +genius.</p> + +<p>To treat of the importance of education and set forth its +psychological principles in full would be the theme of a +large book. I limit myself here to some considerations +which lead me to regard education as of great importance +for the development of character, particularly in the case of +a genius.</p> + +<p>A child that from its earliest childhood is accustomed +to suffer want and to see vice and cruelty necessarily has +its feelings dulled. How far in later life heart and sentiment +may appear will depend upon the proportion which +the evil influence may bear to its original and natural disposition. +A child in which the exercise of the intellect is +altogether neglected will, at all events, be in later years less +strong than if it had had a solid training of the understanding. +The same thing, <i lang="la">mutatis mutandis</i>, is true for the other +mental characteristics—attention, the power of apprehension, +memory, the action of association and suggestion, +fancy, will, energy, perseverance, etc. All these powers are +capable of being greatly affected by exercise and custom.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span></p> + +<p>Experience shows that even with ordinary men impressions +received in youth are the most durable, and in many +respects may have a momentous influence upon the whole +life. In a child endowed with genius this must be true in +much higher measure, for such a child, even in its earliest +years, observes surrounding events with marvellous +acuteness; it assimilates its impressions much more thoroughly, +and infers much more from them than an ordinary +child. Moreover, owing to its lively fancy, it will be much +more affected by all influences, whether good or bad.</p> + +<p>Thus Nohl⁠<a id="FNanchor_98_98" href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> says of Mozart: “Even as a child he was +full of fire and life; and without the admirable education +which his earnest and strict father gave him, he might have +become the most reckless miscreant, so sensitive was he to +every excitation to whose good or bad influence he was of +an age to respond.” When Goethe in his sixth year heard +of the great earthquake at Lisbon, in which sixty thousand +persons were swallowed up in the twinkling of an eye, religious +doubt arose for the first time within him, and his faith +in the goodness of Providence was shattered.</p> + +<p>Great men have in most cases shown uncommonly high +mental capacity in their tenderest years. But this is not +true without exception, for there have been geniuses who +were quite ordinary children. On the other hand, it is a +fact that frequently children that have matured early and +seemed to be highly gifted have not in later years fulfilled +the promise of their childhood. In part this may be a +purely natural phenomenon, due to no outward causes. +But in many cases the outward circumstances are traceable; +and in particular a bad education has been to blame for the +loss to the world of the fruits of, perhaps, an important +genius.</p> + +<p>Education is the foundation upon which the whole man is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>built up. Youthful impressions are not only decisive in their +effect upon the development of character, but they may even +induce a predisposition to diseases of the nerves and of the +mind. It is altogether probable that, among the innumerable +cases which are set down as hereditary nervous diseases, +a considerable percentage is due less to actual inheritance +than to the impressions which a child has received from a +hysterical mother or from a father given to drink, combined +with a defective education.</p> + +<p>Von Krafft-Ebing⁠<a id="FNanchor_99_99" href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> says: “Next to the organization of +his brain, a man has to thank his education for the idiosyncrasy +of his mental existence. Sometimes organization and +education co-operate in calling forth psychopathic predispositions, +for parents not only in procreation transmit an unfortunate +organic constitution, but also upon the ground of +this organization afflicted with morbid passions, moral faults, +and eccentricities, further communicate their eccentricities +and moral transgressions to their children by their bad example +and by mistaken education.”</p> + +<p>Griesinger⁠<a id="FNanchor_100_100" href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> says: “We agree with Ideler in thinking +that there are cases of so-called hereditary insanity which +are not principally due to the transmission of an organic disposition. +A later psychical propagation of characteristic +peculiarities takes place. The child imitates the example of +certain eccentricities and of certain bizarre and perverse tendencies +and views of life; and this hinders the commencement +of the development of a healthy soul harmonizing +with the outward world. In this way hysteria may +be communicated from a mother to a daughter. So, too, +may foolish or half-foolish parents infect their children +with mental distortions; and so passionateness and evil inclination +may set their impress upon young minds. It is to +be added that by such a state of the parents family life is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>often discomposed, and thus the co-operation of those happy +circumstances which are essential requisites for the harmonious +development of the child’s character is destroyed.”</p> + +<p>It is not of the first consequence in education, especially +with precocious children, what and how much the child shall +learn; for the lacunæ of knowledge can, by the exercise of +energy, always be filled up. But the faculty of apprehension, +the capacity for logical thought, attentive concentration, +close observation, etc., are things which must be exercised +from youth up; and it is very difficult to make good +in later years any deficiency which education may have left +in these respects.</p> + +<p>Care must be taken that the bodily training does not lag +behind the mental. This is specially requisite for precocious +children. Their ambition must be restrained within limits. +They must not be allowed to give themselves over to enthusiastic +dreamings. Conceit and vanity should be checked by +hard facts. Moreover, such children are particularly liable +to a too early awakening of sexual impulses and other sexual +irregularities which require the closest attention from their +tutors. It is of great importance that children should early +appreciate the fundamental conceptions of morals, love of +truth, the obligation of a promise, unselfishness, etc. Yet +too great an emphasis upon these things is to be avoided, +since the contrary effect may easily be produced, inasmuch +as for the attainment of the desired result love and faith on +the part of the child are requisite above all. Of the greatest +importance for the formation of character are the development +of the heart, refinement of feeling and sentiment, +which must be implanted in the child from its earliest childhood. +“Much can be effected under unfavorable circumstances +by an intelligent education. This must be adapted +to the individual and free from pedantry. It should be +directed not to the formation of the intellect alone, but also +to that of the heart. This is the point in the importance of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>which pedagogy, rightly conceived and treated, joins with +the doctrine of heredity.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_101_101" href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>On children of lively fancy and fine feelings stories about +fabulous things and supernatural phenomena often have a +bad effect, above all when they are made use of to put children +into a fright. In some dispositions such methods of +education may induce severe hysterical states. “This detestable +method of bringing up,” says Mosso,⁠<a id="FNanchor_102_102" href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> “has not yet +disappeared; children are to this day agonized with stories +of Knecht Ruprecht, of fabulous monsters, werewolves, +magicians, and sorcerers. Every minute somebody says to +children: ‘He will eat you up’; ‘This bites you’; ‘Call the +dog’; ‘There is the chimney-sweep’; and a hundred other +terrors which bring them to tears and deform their friendly +character by distressing them with constant threats, by a +system of torture which makes them timid and weak.”</p> + +<p>Children that are inclined to dreaminess, in whom fancy +is active and threatens to dispossesses the pure intellectual +action, require particular care, so that the child may as early +as possible receive a strong impression of the realities of +life, and that there is in those realities a stern and inflexible +order, and as truthful a general idea of what that order is +like as possible. Pains must be taken to prevent nurses’ tales, +religious mysticism, and mythological fictions from overexciting +the fancy. It is in the knowledge of real things +and facts—first, the sense that there is a reality altogether +different from fancies; second, that it is undeviating in its +order; third, something of what that order is like—this must +be the turning point of education for imaginative children. +If these precautions are not taken by their parents, those +children of fancy will be filled with images utterly foreign +to the real nature of things. Then, in later years, when life +presents itself to them in its naked truth, and castles in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>air come tumbling over their heads, they will find themselves +astray in the world, with nothing to protect them +but fine words unintelligible to the citizens, and will be +hooted at and run down as cranks and monkeys of genius.</p> + +<p>While the superintendence of the scientific education is +the affair of the father and of the pedagogue, it is the +mother’s duty to look after the formation of the heart +and the sentiments. And what a momentous charge is +this! Think what that is to a man! Think what it is to a +man of genius! And what wonder is it that it should be +popularly believed that all great men were remarkably influenced +by their mothers? Alas! Alas! How many of +the women of to-day see in this holy duty their highest +throne, their completest royalty? Modern economy compels +many women to work, and therefore to economize their +intercourse with their children. In such a case the fault lies +with our social institutions and not with the poor mothers, +although there are even hard working women, who somehow +contrive to care for the corporal well-being of their +children, and for their spiritual health and nourishment too.</p> + +<p>But how is it with well-to-do ladies, who have time and +means enough to spend upon their children? Do they, for +the most part, see in the education of their children the +great purpose of life? Do they feel their highest bliss in +self-forgetful, loving surrender of themselves to this natural +office? Yes, there are such mothers; and the number of +them measures the vitality of our civilization. They receive +the supreme homage which is their due. They receive it +in their persons, and it is extended to every woman who +can be presumed to fulfil that function or to be about to +fulfil it. The vulgar throng of women are not of that sort. +Many women are honest enough to confess that the education +of their children is burdensome to them and that they +find no pleasure in it. They shift the irksome burden to the +shoulders of a stranger. Some mothers are foolish enough +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>to think that a mother’s love could be replaced by money. +They believe that they fulfill their duty by seeing that their +children’s food is wholesome and their clothes handsome. +Perhaps they hire accomplished governesses or send their +children to expensive boarding-schools. But can a stranger +ever replace a true mother’s heart? No, never. Children +who have lost a mother are to be pitied. But children +whose mother lives and is only such a guardian to them +as those above mentioned are in far worse plight. The +former can at least carry in their hearts the ideal of a +mother’s love; but for the latter even this is torn to rags, +and with it one of the anchors of life is lost. Many +mothers use their children to satisfy their personal vanity. +From this motive they rig them out like monkeys and +flaunt around with them; they teach them speeches like +parrots, so as to be able to boast of them and occupy +attention with them, and that they can tell themselves that +they have been doing their children some good. It is +not the ennobling of the childish heart that is the motive +of such mothers’ action, but the satisfaction of their own +petty vanity.</p> + +<p>I have already said that with children of high mental +gifts and with precociously developed power of apprehension +the influence of youthful impressions, as well as their +whole education, is of uncommon importance for their after-life. +Let us cast a glance upon the youth and education of +some super-eminent men.</p> + +<p>Of Goethe it is said:</p> + +<p>“Seldom has a boy exhibited such completeness of human +faculties. The multiplied activity of his life is prefigured in +the varied tendencies of his childhood. We see him as an +orderly, somewhat formal, inquisitive, reasoning, deliberative +child, a precocious learner, an omnivorous reader, and +a vigorous logician who thinks for himself—so independent +that at six years of age he doubts the beneficence of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>Creator, at seven doubts the competence and justice of the +world’s judgment. He is inventive, poetical, proud, loving, +volatile, with a mind open to all influences, swayed by every +gust, and yet, while thus swayed as to the direction of his +activity, master over himself.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_103_103" href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> One sees from this short +picture what enormous influence education and the impressions +of childhood must have had upon his after-life. His +mind was “open to all influences, swayed by every gust.” +The careful education which young Goethe received aided +in no small degree in the unfolding of his mighty genius. +His father conducted the education with strictness and conscientiousness, +and the scientific instruction was systematically +arranged.</p> + +<p>His excellent mother knew how to mould her child’s tender +heart in its early childhood, how to bring his fancy into +exercise, and how to impress him with a sense of the noble +and the beautiful. Her relations with her children are truly +touching. She herself reports how she told stories every +evening to little Wolfgang and his sister Cornelia: “I could +not be tired of telling them as long as he was not tired of listening. +I represented Fire, Water, Earth, and Air as beautiful +princesses, and gave a meaning to all that goes on in +Nature. I believed in it myself more implicitly than my +listeners did; and when we pretended there were roads +between the stars, and that we should some time live in stars, +and thought what great spirits we should meet up there, nobody +was ever more eager than I for the hour of story telling +with the children, nor more vexed when some invitation +I had received prevented it. There sat I, and there was he +devouring me with his great black eyes; and if the fate of +any favourite did not go right according to his sense, I could +see how the angry vein would swell in his forehead and how +he would choke down his tears. Many a time he would interfere +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>before I could bring about the turn of affairs, and +would say, ‘I hope, mother, that the princess will not +marry the accursed tailor even if he did slay the giant?’ +Then if I made a halt and put off the catastrophe to the +next evening, I could be sure that he would repeat everything +aright up to that point, and where my imagination fell +short it would often be patched out by his. Then, if I took +up the threads of fate on the next evening and turned them +according to his plan and said, ‘You guessed it! that is what +happened!’ he would be all fire and flame, and his little +heart could be seen to beat under his ruffle. He was his +grandmother’s pet, and to her he would confide all his ideas +of how the story would go; and from her I would learn how +it must run to conform to his wishes; and in this way there +was a secret diplomatic transaction between us which neither +of us betrayed to the other. So I had the satisfaction of +continuing my tales to the delight and astonishment of my +auditor, who, without recognising that he was the author of +all my marvellous occurrences, saw with glowing eyes events +fall out according to his keenly desired plans, and greeted +the finishing of it with enthusiastic applause.” What unspeakable +thanks Goethe owed this mother, who so completely +gave herself up to the care and love of her children!</p> + +<p>Schiller, according to the accounts of his biographers, +had in his youth no extraordinary mental qualities, though +his capacity was good and his diligence intense. “The boy,” +we read, “felt that without diligence no mastery can be won.” +His education, which his strict father most conscientiously +superintended, was exceedingly solid and thorough. His +extremely rich-hearted—or, as the Germans say, <i lang="de">gemüthvolle</i>—mother +surrounded him with an atmosphere of love. +She had plainly a great share in his education. Scharffenstein, +a youthful friend of Schiller, says of her: “Her son +was the image of her in figure and physiognomy. Her dear +face was very feminine and mild. Never was there seen +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>a more admirable, domestic, and feminine woman.” Körner, +in his biography, says of Schiller: “In many respects +he was a backward child, and certainly was not one of those +who gratify the vanity of their parents by precocious acquirements +and talents. But even in his childhood his soft heart, +combined with a firm will, his good faith, and his attachment +to those who had won his love, together with his easily +roused fancy, were plainly discernible.” His remarkably +intelligent father and his warm-hearted mother supplied +him with a superior education. “He had from childhood a +ruling bent for poetry; but his father considered his own +duty to be merely to tolerate his son’s first essays, not to encourage +them. He had too lofty an ideal of art to permit +himself, in a case so near to him, not to exercise due care +lest a mere inclination should be mistaken for an avocation.”</p> + +<p>Raphael, though he lost his mother in his eighth and his +father in his eleventh year, received a good education and +rounded development. Galileo, Newton, Linnæus, Fénelon, +Arago, early showed acute understanding, and all were liberally +educated. Haydn, though born in narrow circumstances, +received an exceptional and loving education. He expressed +his gratitude for it in later years, and was most strongly attached +to his mother, who had always most tenderly cared for +his well-being. Liszt was brought up with the utmost love +and care. His father early recognised his genius, and once +exclaimed: “You are elect of destiny, and will realize that +ideal of art which cast a vain glamour over my youth. In you +I wish to rejuvenate and propagate my soul.” Franz was a +weakly child in body and was in need of a good deal of parental +concern, and it was prodigally bestowed. His father +kept a diary devoted to him “with the minute and anxious +punctiliousness of a tender father.” Washington’s father, +dying when George was eleven years old, had such confidence +in the highly intelligent and prudent mother, that he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>gave her, by his will, full control of all the property of the +children until they should come of age. This lady fulfilled +every duty of a mother with the utmost love and tenderest +concern, and gave them an excellent education. Kant said: +“I shall never forget my mother, for she planted and tended +the first germs of good in me. She opened my heart to the +impressions of Nature. She awakened and expanded my +ideas; and her teachings have had an enduring and wholesome +influence upon my life.”</p> + +<p>Heine had an admirable mother, whose only endeavour +it was to transmit to her children the excellent education +that she had herself received in her father’s house. Her +favourite authors were Goethe and Rousseau. The reading +of Emile had made education rather a hobby of hers. She +herself taught the boys to read and write, and most carefully +superintended their instruction. “To her,” we read +in a biography of Heine, “he clung with an affecting +child-love. He sang her praises in charming poems, and +referred to her continually in his writings with the sincerest +piety.”</p> + +<p>A genius of whom Heine says that “he was one of the +greatest German poets, and among all our dramatists +nearest approached Shakespeare,” was ruined by vice and +debauchery. This was Dietrich Grabbe, whose father was +director of a house of correction and of a pawn shop. He +suffered the gloomiest impressions in his childhood, and +these were increased by his neglected and perverse education. +A biographer of the poet accuses his mother of having +led him to drink, but Heine defends the woman from +this charge, saying that it is false. Still, even Heine, in his +attempt to rehabilitate the honour of the mother of his +colleague, says: “She was a rough dame, the wife of a turnkey, +and in caressing her wolf cub, Dietrich, she perhaps +sometimes scratched him a bit with the claws of a she-wolf.” +What might a genius like Grabbe not have become +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>if his education had been conducted by a mother like +Goethe’s?</p> + +<p>A multiform genius, equally gifted in poetry, music, and +painting, was E. T. A. Hoffmann. His parents separated +after a short and unhappy marriage, and his mother, who +with her children was invited to her mother’s, was prevented +by bad health from concerning herself with their education. +It was left to the grandmother and an uncle, and was so conducted +as to exercise in many respects a decidedly unhappy +influence upon the formation of the boy’s character. It dealt +with all that regards the formation of the intellect and the +information of the memory. He received superior instruction +in the sciences and the arts. But the mother’s influence +was wanting. The formation of the character and of the +heart was neglected. The pedantic peculiarities of the uncle +served as motive to the boy’s satiric pencil and leaning toward +the bizarre. To the remonstrances which his friend +Hippel addressed to him concerning his disrespectful deportment +to his relatives he replied: “What luck have I +had with my relatives? If I had had people like you for +my father and my uncle I would not behave so.” In spite +of his genius, his works show a craziness for which his perverse +education is sufficient to account. At last he gave +himself over to drink, and that not from need or anxiety, +with which he had certainly been acquainted, but just at +the time when fortune smiled upon him and he had been +absolved from all sordid cares.</p> + +<p>Schopenhauer had a mother mentally gifted indeed, +but cold. In his early youth an antagonism arose between +mother and son. When he showed her his first work—The +Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Reason—she +ironically remarked: “A book for apothecaries, is it not?” +She was herself an authoress, and he replied: “My books +will live after yours have long been relegated to the lumber +room.” She retorted: “Your books will never go to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>lumber room, because nobody will buy them at all.” This +want of motherly love may well have had more than a +slight influence upon the character and later life of the +philosopher. Much in his life might have shaped itself +otherwise if he had been able to look back upon a youth +beautified by a mother’s love. Perhaps the repellent coldness +of his mother laid the foundation for his subsequent +disparagement of women.</p> + +<p>Rousseau’s mother died at his birth. His father was a +poor watchmaker who could not concern himself much +about the education of his son. When the father had to +flee on account of an affair of honour, the son went into a +boarding-school, where he was treated hardly and unjustly. +Later he was apprenticed to an engraver, and in that situation +he read during his leisure all the books in a circulating +library. Being ill-treated by his master, he left him, and +at the age of fifteen wandered about Savoy until he was +recommended by a Catholic priest to Madame de Warens. +She was a very good-hearted but morally weak woman, +who spoiled her <i>protégé</i> exceedingly, and soon converted +him from an adopted son into a lover. Such youthful impressions +must, it is plain, have had a very disadvantageous +influence upon the character of Rousseau. Many an absurdity +of his later life is to be attributed to his unfortunate +youth. How far his bad education, or rather his total want +of education, may have acted upon the later development +of the derangement of his mind is a question not to be +decided with certainty.</p> + +<p>Byron’s parents having separated, he was educated, or +rather not educated, only by a mother of weak and overemotional +character and an old nurse. The consequence +was that he developed a very unstable character, became +addicted to wild excesses, later suffered from hallucinations; +and, in short, his genius did not unfold itself at all as it +otherwise would have done.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span></p> + +<p>These few examples are not offered as an inductive +argument to establish a connection between education and +character, as if it were otherwise unknown to us, as Lombroso, +for example, gives lists to show that men of genius +are commonly undersized, etc. They are offered as illustrations +which, when we know what that connection is in +ordinary cases, may disabuse the mind of an unfounded +notion that genius is an exception to the general rule, and +which will help us to imagine what the early life of a +genius is, and how he is <em>more</em> and not <em>less</em> influenced by +education than another boy would be, agreeably to the deductive +arguments we have already set forth.</p> + +<p>The circumstance that there have been men of genius +(not so numerous, perhaps, as is supposed) who, in spite of +an education, either defective or positively baleful, have +worked their way to fame and public usefulness, does not +in the slightest degree conflict with our proposition, for +we can never know what degree of perfection they might +have attained with a better education. We do know that +some of those who ultimately impressed themselves upon +the minds of their own age and upon those which succeeded +it, had been at one time in danger of turning out nonentities +in consequence of early influences, and were only +awakened by some fortunate chance; and, finally, in anthropological +questions we must not expect to find rules without +any exceptions whatever.</p> + +<p>Beethoven developed the greatest musical genius, although +his youth was not cheerful and his education was +very faulty. His father, himself a musician, took care to +form his son in music in a thorough manner, especially as +the son’s genius was recognisable in his childhood; but the +moral impressions which he received as a boy were not +calculated to influence happily a young heart or a character +in process of formation. The father was given to drink; +and Ludwig’s young friend, Stephan von Brenning, once +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>saw the drunken father rescued from the police by the son +in the open street. Certainly, such things could not fail to +make their mark upon the still plastic character. Nohl +says, “The reticence and a certain defiant spirit of his youth +and manhood must be referred to such harsh experiences.”</p> + +<p>Disadvantageous as a bad education may, even under +ordinary circumstances, be expected to be to a genius, both +with respect to his character and to his intellect, it will be +still more fatal in case he has a strongly marked fancy with +but moderate gifts in other directions. Children in whom +inordinate fancy or feelings somewhat overbalance their +other faculties may, nevertheless, by the aid of an energetic +education, with continued training of their memory, attention, +will, etc., be made productive and capable men, while +without a rational education they would fall into the category +of pseudo-geniuses or fools of genius.</p> + +<p>Thus we see the enormous importance of education—not +merely school instruction, but the impressions of the family +circle upon the child and the youth. Especially momentous +for the child’s later destiny is the mother’s part in education. +Every innovation in our social habits tending to diminish +the mother’s large share in the education of her children +ought to be considered as prejudicial to the progress of +humanity. Public schools answer well enough to teach +children arithmetic and geography, but no institution can +for one moment be thought of as a substitute for the bringing +up by a whole-hearted mother. It is the natural vocation +of the woman; and every wife who, from motives of +ease, pleasure, or vanity, tries to shirk that duty, has, by an +unnatural civilization, been brought to a lower moral level +than her cat or her slut, either of which, by instinct, surrenders +itself ungrudgingly to its maternal duties. Oh, mothers, +take these things to heart! Learn to recognise that no +higher or nobler task is presented to a human being than +the self-forgetting and love-abounding education of one’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>own children. Nature herself sanctifies this duty, and upon +its performance the destiny of the race depends.</p> + +<p>Before I leave this subject, let me animadvert to a phenomenon +interesting in many respects—that of the precocious +child. What is a precocious child? As I have already +mentioned, the majority of great geniuses have shown in +their childhood great mental capacities, which, according to +their inborn dispositions, were specially developed in one +direction or another. A child whose capacity in a special +branch is so high that it is able to perform things which +“astound the multitude” is generally called an “infant +phenomenon” or precocious child. It is an established +fact of experience that, with very few exceptions, precocious +children are found exclusively in the branch of practical +music. This fact is not so much due to the earlier +development of musical genius, for Raphael, Michel Angelo, +and Thorwaldsen equally showed in their early +childhood a very uncommonly great gift for their art. +But were they able “to astound the multitude”? The performance +of a precocious child can only astound when the +multitude is able to compare the fine result with the youth +of the performer. A child, be it never so gifted, is not at +the apogee of its ability; but allowances are made for its +years. The performance—unless, indeed, it be a very incomplex +result, like the answer to an arithmetical problem, +or a feat of memory—is in itself hardly to be called extraordinary +even in the most phenomenal cases. But it is the +circumstance that it is done by a child that makes it +wonderful. The work of the child-poet or child-artist, +whatever its genius, when abstracted from its authorship, +will not amaze the multitude as a musical performance +will do. The poem or picture endures, and thus can be +subjected to criticism irrespective of the personality of the +artist, whether the author be boy or man. It is different +with musical execution. In the concert-hall the personality +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>of the male or female artist exercises upon the public no +inconsiderable influence of that kind which is generally +designate by the term <i>suggestion</i>.</p> + +<p>As I have already said, the artistic performance of a +child is, in itself considered, always slighter than that of an +accomplished artist. But to see a little seven-year-old boy +seat himself at a piano before a vast or distinguished audience +and play it with his little hands, that is what, as a +natural phenomenon, not as a work of pure art, astounds +the multitude.</p> + +<p>Opinions may differ as to whether art institutions and +associations ought to confine themselves strictly to striving +after the highest pure art, in the faith that thereby the +sentiment and heart of the nation may be ennobled, or +whether they may admit, as a secondary purpose, the +bringing before the public of anthropological curiosities. +For my part, the circus rather than the concert-hall seems +to me their proper place. Kant says: “A precocious genius +of ephemeral existence, like Heinecke in Lübeck and Baratier +in Halle, are departures of Nature from her rule, +curiosities for a naturalist’s cabinet. They cause astonishment +on account of their early age; but they often disappoint +those who bring them forward.” Let everybody +choose for himself what class of entertainments he prefers, +and to that end I would send the curiosities to the curiosity +shops.</p> + +<p>But there is a rather more serious, not to say solemn, +side to the public exhibition of precocities; and the psychiatrist +would neglect a duty if he failed to refer to it. +Remembering what the importance of education and +childish impressions has been seen to be, let anybody picture +to himself what the life of an “infant phenomenon” +is, and what are the impressions that are made upon it. +A wise education, in such a case, would primarily be directed +to avoiding the evil consequences of vanity and of a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>deadening self-consciousness. But this poor victim of the +crowd and of money-getting is covered every night with +medals and decorations from shoulders to waist, and is +exposed to the stupendous plaudits of a brilliant assemblage. +His childish heart needs forming; all that is noxious +should be screened from his imagination; but instead +of that, newspaper puffs and the nauseously indiscriminate +praise of society blunt his feeling and nip his nobler sentiments +in the bud. The consequence of this—bad education, +as I was about to call it, but that is not the word for it—this +wicked ill-treatment, is the destruction of the genius of +almost every such child. They are not taught that not +even genius can climb the rugged steeps of Parnassus +without diligence and labour. They are told that they are +perfect, and that their performances are above criticism. +But when, at last, they have to appear, no longer in the +child’s stockings and black velvet frock, but in the man’s +dress-coat, that nimbus round the phenomenon melts +away; and then it is perceived that the development of +their genius has undergone mischievous perturbations. The +character is unformed; the mental balance all out; and, in +short, the wonderful child is, after all, nothing but a fool. +No empty theory is this, but manifold experience. Such +fools, who in their childhood were driven about the world +to the sound of drum and trumpet, are numerous. It is +high time that judicious men should protest against the +unspeakable outrage which vain and mercenary parents and +unscrupulous impressarios, who look upon a child of genius +as nothing but an article of trade, commit upon these precocities.</p> + +<p>The defenders of this abuse tell us that Mozart, Beethoven, +and Mendelssohn were all infant prodigies. But what +of that? If a physician recommends that our children +should eat wholesome food and breathe good air, will you +retort, “Pshaw! I know of several children that ate the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>most unwholesome things, were exposed to all sorts of bad +influence, and yet they grew up all right and are marvels of +rugged health; so you see it makes no difference how children +are brought up?” Besides, Mozart and Mendelssohn +were not treated like the youthful prodigies of to-day. I +have already mentioned what an intelligent father Mozart +had, and how, in spite of his son’s public appearance, in accordance +with the morals of those days, he gave him a +superior education. Mendelssohn’s teacher, old Zelter, +always had it at heart to preserve his scholar’s childlike +modesty and to guard him against self-conceit. And then, +how much, after all, did these children play in public compared +with the professional tours of the precocious child of +to-day? Yet, notwithstanding the comparative infrequency +of the performances, those art journeys certainly had no +happy influence either upon Mozart or upon Beethoven. +Mozart lived all his life in a highly wrought state of the +nerves, and died at the meridian of life with a fatally diseased +brain. The sad influence of the dreary youth of +Beethoven upon the development of his character has already +been noticed.</p> + +<p>We hear it said that precocious children in poor circumstances +have no other way of getting the money requisite +for a rational education than by such concert tours. Were +this assertion verified, it would be time that such a shocking +state of things were put to an end. In the “land of the +Almighty Dollar,” as it is called, besides a “Society for +the Protection of Animals” there is a “Society for the +Protection of Children,” invested with certain powers by +law; and not long ago, when a precocious child had been +sent over from Germany to win dollars, the doors of the +hall were closed by the authority of that society, and, much +to the disgust of the Herr Impressario, whose business was +damaged, public performances were prohibited. The wonderful +child was sent home by a philanthropist, and with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>the child was sent a considerable sum of money, this being +intrusted to the father, under the condition that the child +should be provided with a thorough education and should +not appear in public until he was grown up. It is to be +hoped that the time is now not far distant when the destruction +of a genius for the sake of material interests shall +belong to the barbarities overthrown by civilization.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="SECULAR_HYSTERIA"> + SECULAR HYSTERIA. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Hitherto mental states of individuals have been our +chief study in this book. But collective phenomena of +mental disturbance are likewise met with at several distinct +periods of history. The influence which the insane +have exerted upon different branches of human production +and upon the general development of humanity has been +already pointed out. We have particularly referred to the +influence of individuals, such as weak-minded benefactors +of the people, mad prophets, and the imbecile Roman emperors +who displayed what is called moral insanity. But +besides such individual phenomena there is a form of mental +disease the peculiarity of which is that it attacks not isolated +individuals, but epidemically entire communities, and in that +way influences the development and metaphysical conceptions +(<i lang="de">Weltanschauung</i>) of whole nations.</p> + +<p>A correct recognition of such states will be of no slight +value for the community; for along with the recognition +comes, as we shall see, an indication of the way to improvement +and remedy. Thus it becomes the task of modern +psychiatry not only to treat individual patients, but also +to observe society, and especially to keep guard against +that phenomenon which ought to be termed Secular Hysteria +(<i lang="de">Zeithysterie</i>).</p> + +<p>It is a pretty widespread opinion that nervous diseases, +and especially hysteria, have alarmingly increased during +the last decades, and that they are about to increase much +more. In all civilized countries, we are told, and in every +stratum of the population, a weakness of the nervous system +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>manifests itself of which our forefathers had no knowledge. +Neurasthenia and hysteria spread wider and wider, like a +devastating epidemic, attacking not merely the lower classes +but just the “upper ten thousand.” It is educated society +which is threatened with total overthrow by utter derangement +of the nerves. “Whither is this to lead, and how is it +to end?” lament some solicitous prophets who already see +yawning before them the gulf by which the enervated human +race is about to be swallowed up.</p> + +<p>Let us weigh the reasons which occasion this apprehension. +What real proof is there of this enormous increase of +nervous diseases and of the continually progressive degeneration +of civilized man? First of all, there are the statistics. +“Numbers,” we have been told, “can not lie.” Perhaps not; +but those who collect them may fasten upon them very seriously +mistaken labels.</p> + +<p>The assiduous statistician ascertains that the insane asylums +contain more women than men. So far, so good. But +if he tells us that more women are insane than men, he labels +those numbers erroneously, for the inequality is really due +to the fact that insane males die off, while insane females survive, +relatively speaking. Suppose the statistics of different +countries do show that the number of inmates of insane +asylums is increasing out of all proportion to the growth of +the general population, would it not be superficial in the +extreme to conclude, without further data, that insanity was +upon the increase? At present these statistics mean nothing +more than that the number of patients in such institutions +has considerably increased. But when we consider +what great advances have been made in the diagnosis of +mental diseases, and consider also that a great number of +such cases, which were formerly treated unsuccessfully at +home, are now treated in such institutions with good results, +because there they are removed from the detrimental influences +of familiar surroundings, while the proper means and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>methods for rational treatment are at hand, we shall find +that the seemingly enormous increase of mental disturbances +need not cause us uneasiness.</p> + +<p>Other extensive statistical material for nervous diseases +is afforded by the numerous dispensaries of the great cities; +but no extended experience is required to teach that a large +proportion of such cases would not appear if the patients +had to pay fixed fees, and round ones, as they had to do in +the good old times when physicians saw comparatively little +of nervous diseases. Our grandmothers had their “headaches” +and their “twitchings in the limbs” like the women +of to-day; but they never dreamed of calling a doctor or +going to the dispensary for such things, so that they were +not “statistical material.”</p> + +<p>In the dispensaries for nervous diseases there are numerous +chronical patients who, becoming discouraged in one +place, think they would like to try another doctor; and +some of them make a round of sojourns in different hospitals. +Each of them is counted as many times over in the statistics +as there are places where he is treated. This perceptibly +increases the numbers.</p> + +<p>These considerations give some idea, though but a slight +one, of the extreme difficulty of making even rough approximate +inferences from sanitary statistics.</p> + +<p>But certain observers tell us that exact enumeration is +not required. Hysteria and degeneration of the race stare +us, as they aver, daily in the face. In every department of +human activity disorders of the nervous system are seen. +The very style and methods of the art and literature of the +day proclaim a general nervous prostration.</p> + +<p>Max Nordau is the protagonist of this widespread opinion. +In his eyes, mental degeneration has seized upon the +majority of civilized men to such a degree that “the upper +strata of urban population” form but a “suffering hospital.” +The art, the poetry, the fiction, the philosophy of the day +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>present the most manifold embodiments of degeneration and +of secular hysteria.</p> + +<p>Nordau admits, of course, that degeneration and hysteria +have always existed. “But,” says he, “they formerly showed +themselves sporadically, and had no importance in the life of +the whole community. It was only the vast fatigue which +was experienced by the generation on which the multitude +of discoveries and innovations burst abruptly, imposing upon +it organic exigencies greatly surpassing its strength, which +created favourable conditions under which these maladies +could gain ground enormously and become a danger to civilization.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_104_104" href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> +The conception of secular hysteria which advances +epidemically and attacks whole classes is therefore, +according to Nordau, only applicable to the present time; +and of this he says: “We stand now in the midst of a severe +mental epidemic; of a sort of black death of degeneration +and hysteria.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_105_105" href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>But in declaring that in former times hysteria was but +of sporadic occurrence and attained no importance for the +life of society as a whole, Nordau falls into a grave error. +Mental diseases, and especially hysteria, have, from the earliest +times to the present, exercised a tremendous influence +upon the current <i lang="de">Weltanschauung</i> or metaphysical conception +of the universe and upon the whole mental development, +and that precisely because they not only occurred +sporadically, but, as we shall soon see, attacked the masses +in the form of epidemics, and so became of the highest significance +and importance for the life of society as a whole.</p> + +<p>Religious enthusiasm and proneness to the mystic and +the occult formed, even in the highest antiquity, an important +factor of those degenerate and hysterical individuals +who entertained the delusion that they were in communication +with good or with bad spirits, and who by that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>channel influenced the masses not a little. A great number +of the priestesses who delivered oracular responses to +the Greeks “with strong quakings of their body” were +psychopathic subjects undergoing the hysterical convulsions +well known to us to-day. Hence epilepsy, which in those +days was not discriminated from hysterical cramps, came +to be called the <i lang="la">morbus sacer</i>, or sacred disease. Plutarch, +in his description of the Pythian priestess, delineates the +typical image of a hysterical subject who, in ecstatic convulsion, +stammered unintelligible words, into which the +priests injected some sense. But hysteria, with its inclination +to religious enthusiasm, was not limited to separate +persons. On the contrary, we meet with it among all peoples +and in all periods of history; and among all peoples we +meet with it in the form of epidemics of various kinds. But +never did this disease find a better or more fertile soil in +which to thrive than in the Middle Ages of northern Europe, +marked as they were by ignorance and superstition; and, +accordingly, we find that epidemics of hysteria then assumed +dimensions surpassing those of any similar outbursts in other +centuries. A great many fine books have been written about +the individual and epidemic crazes of those ages. The +French have made particularly careful researches into the +matter. Let it suffice here to adduce a few examples in +order to show how great an influence hysteria, in its collective +manifestation, exercised upon the social relations and +entire development of civilization of those times.</p> + +<p>Calmeil⁠<a id="FNanchor_106_106" href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> describes a great number of hysterical epidemics +of different forms. One of the principal eruptions +in Germany was demonomania, or <i lang="de">Teufelswahn</i>. “In the +year 1549,” says Calmeil, “a delusion called <i lang="fr">Vaudoisie</i> prevailed +in Artois, that the devils carried many secretly in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>the night to the assemblies, where compacts were made +with Satan and where carnal intercourse took place. +Without knowing how, the participants of the nocturnal +meetings found themselves next morning back in their +dwellings. At the place of assemblage is a devil of human +form whose face, however, is seen by none. He reads +his commands to them, and then every one has to offer an +indecent salute; and he gives them money, wine and food +in great quantities. Thereupon each takes a woman—for +there are women and men together there—the light is extinguished, +and they carnally converse. Suddenly every one +is back at the place whence he came. On account of this +delusion many persons of Arras, both gentle and simple, +were imprisoned and stretched on the rack.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_107_107" href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>A manifestation equally widespread in Germany was +anthropophagy—that is, the delusion that the Devil and his +worshippers lived on human flesh. Men were believed to +live in the neighbourhood of Berne and of Lausanne who +had given themselves to the Devil and who ate their own +children. Hundreds of men were for this stretched on the +rack or burned at the stake. Indeed, there were a number +of insane persons who thought that they themselves were +in league with the Devil, and that they slew children. A +woman who was executed at Berne testified: “We lie in +wait especially for unbaptized children, but also for those +who are baptized, particularly when they are not protected +by the sign of the cross. We kill them by our words and +ceremonies as they lie in their cradles or by their parents’ +sides. So people suppose they have been stifled or have +just died of themselves. Then we secretly steal them out +of the earth and boil them until, after separating the bones, +the whole meat becomes fluid and potable. Of the more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>solid parts we make a magic salve for our arts and transformations. +We bottle the juice, and when a neophyte +drinks a few drops of it he has a share in our science.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_108_108" href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The bull of Innocent VIII, which appeared in 1484, +showed how deep-rooted the devil-delusion was in Germany. +Everywhere people talked of how there was a +great league with devils whose votaries committed deeds +of shame in their assemblies; of how they were under obligation +to destroy and consume newborn babes before they +were baptized. In one year after the publication of the +bull, forty-one women were executed in Burbia because in +their nocturnal assemblies they always strangled, boiled, +and ate a child. Midwives were on the Rhine feared more +than ordinary witches. Since their calling brought them +daily into connection with newborn babes, it must plainly +be of the utmost consequence to the Devil to win them over +to his service. A midwife who was burned alive at Dann, +near Basel, accused herself of having killed more than forty +children.⁠<a id="FNanchor_109_109" href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> Bodin adds that she afterward by night disinterred +the bodies and ate of them, baking the meat in a +stove.⁠<a id="FNanchor_110_110" href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> Among the persons who were burned in Strassburg, +one woman was distinguished by her insensibility to +the most terrible tortures. She declared that this freedom +from pain was due to her being embrocated with the fat of +a newborn child.⁠<a id="FNanchor_111_111" href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> This sort of delirium was very widely +spread under Innocent III. “The inclination to worship +the Devil appears in many families to be hereditary and in +many localities to be endemic.” The religious delusion +was, as is commonly the case, connected with states of +sexual excitement and delusions belonging thereto.</p> + +<p>Toward the middle of the sixteenth century there broke +out in many places in Germany, especially in convents, epidemic +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>convulsions which exhibited the typical image of +<i lang="fr">la grande hystérie</i> and were connected with symptoms of +religious delusions and of sexual excitement. Calmeil cites +the following report upon the malady in one convent: “The +majority of the nuns had at that time been living for +more than fifty days exclusively upon turnip juice. Their +sickness would begin by the vomiting of a black liquid so +sharp and acrid that it would take the skin off their tongues +and lips. Their nights soon became restless. They would +suddenly walk in their sleep. They would think they heard +a sound of human lamentation, and on hurrying to the spot +would find nobody. When they had passed their urine, +they immediately afterward wet the bed or their linen. +They often had the sensation of being tickled on the soles +of their feet, and could not keep from laughing. They +were thrown out of bed and rolled on the floor, as if they +had been pulled out by the feet. Their arms and legs +were contorted in every direction, and their faces were +convulsively drawn up. They would leap high and then +fling themselves with all their force upon the floor again. +Many bore bruises on their bodies. Often, when they +seemed perfectly quiet and sane, they would suddenly fall +down, lose the use of speech, and remain stretched on the +ground as if they had completely lost consciousness. Then +they would throw themselves out of their apparent immobility +convulsively into the air with such violence and +strength that those about could hardly hold them down. +Many found it too hard to keep themselves erect, and +crawled on their hands and knees. Others clambered up +to the roof beams, and let themselves hang head down.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_112_112" href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Such cases of typical hysteria appeared everywhere in +the form of epidemics, and with special frequency in convents. +Of one convent we read: “It was singular that as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>soon as one nun had her fit, the others, even in distant parts +of the building, would immediately go off into fits as soon +as they heard the noise of a person falling. The nuns had +no power of will at all; they bit themselves, struck and bit +their mates, knocked against one another, and endeavoured +vehemently to wound strangers. Upon any attempt to control +the indecency of their conduct, their tumult and exaltation +would become more angry. If they were left to themselves, +they would soon come to biting and wounding without +seeming to feel the least pain.” Such subjects were +considered to be bewitched or possessed of the Devil. They +were treated by exorcisms and conjurations which often increased +their sufferings.</p> + +<p>Not women alone were attacked by the disease; men +were visited in the same way. Gilles de la Tourette⁠<a id="FNanchor_113_113" href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> gives +an account of such an epidemic, according to a description +by Hecker.⁠<a id="FNanchor_114_114" href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> We read: “In Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1574, troops +of men and women from Germany were seen labouring +under a common madness and displaying in the streets and +churches this singular spectacle. With clasped hands, and +carried away by an inward compulsion which they could +not master, they danced for hours and kept up the spectacle +without being abashed by those who were about, until they +would fall exhausted to the ground. Then they would complain +of their great agony, and would groan as though they +were going to die, until people wrapped their abdomens with +linen cloths, whereupon they would come to themselves and +be free for a time from their sufferings. The object of this +was to dispel the wind which set in after the attack. People +often resorted to the simpler method of planting blows +of the fist or kicks upon their abdomens. During their dance +the subjects had visions. They did not see or hear; but in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>their imagination they beheld spirits whose names they pronounced, +or rather shrieked out.... In well-developed cases +the fits began with epileptiform convulsions. The subjects +fell snorting to the ground without consciousness, and foamed +at the mouth. Then, all at once, they got up and began +their dance with frightful wrenchings. In a few months +this plague extended from Aix-la-Chapelle as far as the Netherlands.”</p> + +<p>Like the men and women, children were likewise attacked. +Calmeil adduces the following example: “Toward +the end of the winter of 1566 the majority of the foundlings +in the hospital of Amsterdam were seized with convulsions +and delirium. Thirty children (other accounts say seventy) +suffered from the malady. They tumbled suddenly to +the ground, rolled from half an hour to an hour upon the +floor, as if possessed, and when they then stood up they +awoke as from a deep sleep. They did not know what had +happened. Prayers, conjurations, and exorcisms of such +power that they would certainly have driven out the Devil +were of no avail. After a longer duration of the disease the +children finally began to vomit. They threw up nails, +needles, wool, pieces of linen, bits of skin, and other foreign +bodies which they had secretly swallowed down. They +climbed like cats upon the walls and roofs, spoke in unknown +tongues, and had such a terrific look that it scared people. +This was more than sufficient for regarding them as possessed. +At the sight of many women they made peculiar +gestures, and such women were regarded as witches.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_115_115" href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>A phenomenon often seen to-day in insane asylums is, +that patients think themselves to be beasts, such as dogs, +cats, monkeys, wolves, etc., and behave accordingly. In the +Middle Ages this gave rise to the superstition of the Werewolf. +The word is formed from <i>wolf</i> and the obsolete word +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span><i lang="de">wër</i>, in Gothic <i>vair</i>, in Latin <i lang="la">vir</i>, man. Such persons, who +during epidemics were sometimes found in great numbers, +ran about the woods on all fours, lived and behaved exactly +like beasts, fell upon men who might pass by, attacked even +riders and vehicles, and stole children and devoured their +flesh. Such things were known to the ancients too. The +Scythians, according to Herodotus, knew the werewolf; the +Greeks, especially the Arcadians, spoke of a <span lang="grc">λυκάνθρωπος</span>; +and the Romans of the <i lang="la">versipellis</i>. Toward the end of the +year 1573 the peasants in the vicinity of Dôles were authorized +to hunt werewolves. The parliamentary license ran +thus: “In the territories of Espagny, Salvange, Courchapon +and surrounding places, it is known that for some days a +werewolf has been seen. It has secretly stolen and killed +several children, and has also attacked riders who have +escaped it with difficulty. In consideration of all these +things, this court of justice, wishing to avoid greater damage, +allows the inmates and inhabitants of the said places and +others, contrary to the edict concerning hunting, to come +together with spears, halberds, pikes, crossbows, and sticks +to hunt and pursue the said werewolf in all places where +they can find him, and to bind him and to kill him without +punishment or revenge.... Given in the council of the said +court of justice this 13th day of September, in the year of +grace 1573.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_116_116" href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> A man captured as a werewolf confessed that +he was changed into a beast, and asserted that his skin grew +inside out so that the fur was not seen. They cut off his +arms and legs, to make sure he spoke the truth, and he bled +to death.</p> + +<p>The disease of demonomania continued to spread. According +to one report, a thousand dancers filled the streets +of Metz. Young people of both sexes fled from their +parents, and servants from their masters, and allowed themselves +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>to be carried away by the epidemic, and to take part +in the insane proceedings.⁠<a id="FNanchor_117_117" href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In the electoral see of Trèves, within a few years, six +thousand five hundred men were executed as enchanted +and as bewitched.</p> + +<p>“In 1609 the Government was informed that all Labourd, +the district approximately coinciding with the present Département +des Basses-Pyrénées swarmed with devil-worshippers. +Seven-and-twenty parishes were attacked by the +malady. The difficulty was greatest in Siboure, St. Jean de +Luz, Andage, and the neighbourhood of Bayonne. The +account of this epidemic is a shining contribution to the +history of insanity as a social disease.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_118_118" href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> All these sufferers +were considered as bewitched and possessed. The +ministers of Henry IV held it to be imperatively requisite +to bring the whole power of justice against witches; and +hundreds of human beings were burned or incarcerated. +The judges worked the rack actively in order to get +complete confessions from the bewitched and from those +who were sold to the Devil. Often the victims fell into +ecstatic convulsion, and boasted, when they were tortured +nigh unto death, that they felt inexpressible joy at finding +themselves brought near to the Devil, who doubtless stood +in their minds for the great adversary of the court. Many +made vain efforts to utter a word when they were virtually +throttled. A report says: “The Devil sought to vex them +so that, even if they wished to confess, they should be unable +to bring out a word. We saw with our own eyes that, +as soon as they had spoken one word of confession, the +Devil sprang at their throat, and that a hindrance mounted +from their chest to their chin, just as when a plug is put +before the opening of a cask in order to hinder the flow +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>of the liquor.” This describes a common symptom of hysteria +which we call <i lang="la">globus hystericus</i>.</p> + +<p>The influence which hysterical subjects exercised upon +the whole metaphysics, or view of the universe (<i lang="de">Weltanschauung</i>) +of those times, was tremendous. While superstition +and fanaticism may truly be called the best fertilizers +to yield a crop of hysteria—and they have vastly contributed +to its extension and large growth—at the same time, hysteria, +in its turn, with its astonishing symptoms, far beyond +the classificatory powers of those ages, has had the effect of +enormously feeding and propagating superstition. In short, +the two phenomena, hysteria and superstition, played into +one another’s hands; each was alternately cause and effect; +and between them they called forth that dismal period in +which the human mind was loaded with fetters, and postponed +for centuries its free possession of its heritage. The +author who is capable of saying that before this our time +“hysteria only showed itself sporadically, and had no importance +in the life of the whole community,” is not acquainted +with the history of insanity and the biography of the human +race. In order to pass judgment upon the present times +from a psychological point of view, the very first requisite is +an acquaintance with times gone by, and a tracing out of the +path which has brought our culture to its present height.</p> + +<p>Before passing on to the study of the present, let us first +ask why and how it was that diseases of the mind took +on an epidemic character. Most of those authors who have +made hysteria the subject of deep investigations agree in +this: that <i>suggestibility</i> (using this word approximately in its +psychological sense) is a particular mark of the state of soul +of the hysterical.⁠<a id="FNanchor_119_119" href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> Every man is to a certain degree susceptible +of <i>suggestion</i>. Everyday life shows this. Merely seeing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>somebody else laugh, gape, hawk, or cough, makes +other people do so; and so it is with other semi-voluntary +acts. Hence it is that people are accustomed to say that +laughing and gaping are “contagious.” In hysteria, <i>suggestibility</i> +is present in greater or less measure, according +to the intensity of the disease. The subjects usually possess +little or no force of will, but are receptive of outward influences. +This characteristic becomes particularly apparent +during emotions, such as anxiety, fear, terror, etc. An +infinity of examples shows that grave states of hysteria are +brought on by passionate emotion. Frequently it is a concatenation +of such emotions that results at last in hysteria; +whence the extreme importance of education, and of the +collective impressions of childhood for persons of the sort +considered, becomes apparent. As long as children drew +in mystical tendencies with their mother’s milk, and were +kept in fear and terror by the belief in the apparition of the +Devil and in witchcraft, it is self-evident that the doors for +the development of hysteria were opened, and <i>suggestibility</i> +and emotivity appeared in full blossom.</p> + +<p>Unintermittent religious observances, imaginary converse +with supernatural beings, such as saints and angels, led +first to hallucinations and ultimately to morbid phenomena of +hysteria. To look upon an ecstatical state, or upon a case +of hysterical cramps, was sufficient to excite similar states +in a circle of companions much disposed to the same thing +by anxiety and surprise. Physicians who devote themselves +specially to diseases of the nervous system and who enjoy a +large practice know only too well that, when their anterooms +are thronged, as often as one woman goes into a hysterical +fit several others among those who happen to be there +are pretty sure to follow the example. How much more +strongly must the <i>suggestion</i> act if the individual who originates +it is supposed not to be diseased, but, on the contrary, +to have driven some astute bargain with Satan or to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>deep in the lore of the Chaldeans, so that the attack is regarded +as an evidence of superiority!</p> + +<p>Severe diseases of the mind proper, such as mania and +paranoia, have undoubtedly also played their parts, and no +unimportant ones, in the production of epidemics. All the +phenomena of those diseases which are now speedily confined +to asylums, continued in former ages before the public eye, +and fell like sparks upon the magazine of superstition and +mysticism in the people. Those who raved were supposed +to be witches; and weak-minded persons who imagined themselves +to be animals, etc., were taken for werewolves at least. +As for those who were attacked by religious delusions of +greatness, they were rated as holy souls endowed with the +grace of God’s Spirit. The influence of these subjects upon +the mass of the hysterical, with their high-grade <i>suggestibility</i>, +must, of course, have been a quite fatal one. Conditions +which in the one were produced by insane ideas and imperative +motions were called forth in the mass of the others by +the force of <i>suggestion</i>, and were terribly spread.</p> + +<p>The influence of these phenomena—that is to say, of +insanity, but more particularly of endemic eruptions of hysteria, +upon the whole culture—is shown in the literature of +that time. Ideas of sorcery, of the apparition of the Devil, +and of witchcraft prevailed not only among the rude populace, +the mass of the people, but also among scholars of renown +and consideration—men who had accomplished great +things in their generation. Bulky tomes were devoted to +the discussion of matters of witchcraft and possession. +Pierre Delancre, a councillor of the Parliament of Bordeaux, +wrote three large volumes on the subject; and his +conclusion is, that to spare the life of a single person who +is even suspected of sorcery⁠<a id="FNanchor_120_120" href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> is a crime.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span></p> + +<p>With the gradual awakening of science and the beginning—or, +more accurately speaking, the restoration—of the +doctrine of mental diseases, the fatal consequences of superstition +became milder, and the extension of hysterical +epidemics was narrowed. To recognise that possession +does not imply dealings with the enemy, but is simply a +disease, was to break off the poisoned tip from the arrow +of suggestion, and thenceforward the morbid impulse to +imitation of the insane symptoms lost much of its strength +and asserted itself less frequently.</p> + +<p>No doubt hysterical epidemics based upon religion +continue even to this day. The last century was by no +means poor in such phenomena. They are to be met with +still. The religious epidemics which broke out in Sweden +in the years 1841 and 1842, and which have been described +by the Swedish psychiatrist Sonden, are good examples.⁠<a id="FNanchor_121_121" href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> +To this very day, among certain religious denominations—the +Methodist Church of the United States, for instance—phenomena +can still be observed bearing a close resemblance +to the mediæval epidemics. I myself had an opportunity +of attending a Methodist camp-meeting, and was +there enabled to assure myself of the overwhelming force +<i>suggestion</i> may exert upon a crowd of thousands of people. +Men and women, children and superannuated persons, behaved +for all the world like mad. They howled and +shrieked until they were too exhausted to bring forth a +sound. Here and there one would leap up. He was “inspired,” +and would communicate to the crowd his divine +inspirations, drawn in reality from hallucination or auto-suggestion. +I saw one young man climb a tree, imagining +that he saw Christ in it.</p> + +<p>The principal causes of the spread of epidemics of +insanity and of the so-called secular hysteria are, then, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span><i>suggestibility</i>, emotionalism, the impulse to mimicry, and +the tendency to mysticism. These important symptoms +form the well-ripened dung heap for the growth of whatever +mushroom crop of occult and supernatural ideas you +will, whether from the spawn of superstition and fanaticism +or from that of a lore that drolly mimics a true and living +science. During the <i>Renaissance</i> of literature and art, which +was followed by that of science, the religious fanaticism of +the Middle Ages gradually lost its energy. The corresponding +phenomena of our century may be called runners from +that dismal period. But secular hysteria has by this time +gradually assumed a different character. Belief in the +devil and witches has faded quite away. Nowadays +phenomena that seem unaccountable are produced in great +variety by the hysteria which still subsists, and lead to +crazy doctrines and errors, but they are new ones. Spiritualism, +which flourished most in the middle part of the century, +had such an origin. All those surprising phenomena +that in earlier times had been referred to the agency of the +devil and of witches were now treated as evidences of spiritual +presence, telepathy, etc. Hysteria and religious superstition +had formerly communicated each vitality to the other; now +hysteria and pseudo-science intensified and propagated one +another. The literature to which spiritualism has given +rise is perfectly enormous, and forms a pendant to the +old books on witchcraft. Scientific men of standing write +in our times thick books to discuss the evidences of the +most incredible theories about spirits, about veracious +dreams, about prophecies, about telepathy, about clairvoyance, +about premonitions, etc.</p> + +<p>Such teachings could not fail to exert a decided influence +upon the <i>suggestible</i> and mystically inclined mob of +hysterics. The belief in ghosts continually spread, spiritualistic +societies were formed everywhere. The social psychological +situation was strongly analogous to that of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>Middle Ages in regard to witchcraft. The differences were +chiefly extrinsic, although it must be confessed that they +were not unimportant, for nobody was any longer burned at +the stake or stretched on the rack.</p> + +<p>The success of a spiritualistic sitting required that there +should be among the company one strongly stamped morbid +case, such as a person subject to cataleptic seizures or +to hallucinations, or something of the sort. This person, +who would have been considered a witch in the Middle +Ages, was now termed a “medium,” a middle term or <i lang="la">tertium +quid</i>, through which the spirits of the dead could be +brought into communication with the living. The mysterious +darkness in which the sittings were held, the communion +hymn that was softly intoned by the company, the +excitement and strain with which the manifestations were +expected, the medium’s voice of awed assurance—these +things, together with physiological conditions to which we +need not refer, beclouded the brain and heightened the already +high <i>suggestibility</i> of the hysterical circle. In this +way appearances of ghosts of their lost ones were <i>suggested</i> +to great numbers of persons. To the visions were joined +auditory delusions. They heard the ghosts speak, and conversed +with them; and with actual conversation all remnants +of doubt of their living reality were swept away.</p> + +<p>The psychological conditions were thus essentially the +same as in the religious epidemics of the Middle Ages. +There appearances of infernal spirits and of witches were +<i>suggested</i>; here the ghosts of dead relatives were seen and +heard. Hysteria, with its high <i>suggestibility</i>, accompanied +by external circumstances adapted to excite it, acted as +common cause in the two cases.</p> + +<p>Transmission of delusions and hallucinations, or, so to +say, “psychical contagion,” is, in the experience of the +practising psychiatrist, by no means a phenomenon of the +extremest infrequency. In that form of mental derangement +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>which goes by the name of <i lang="fr">folie à deux</i> two persons +share the same hallucinations and deluded ideas. One of +them is usually chronically insane, the other a degenerate, +weak-minded, or hysterical person to whom deluded +ideas and deceptions of sense are suggested by the former. +I have myself had opportunities of observing a number of +such cases. Among others, there was a man, chronically +insane, who had erected a completely systematic structure +of delusions. He was the deputy of God on earth. It was +his duty to promulgate God’s will and to better humanity. +In consequence of his high mission, he had to endure many +enmities and snares. He was persecuted (so he fancied) in +every possible way. Attempts were even made (he thought) +to put him out of the way. Moreover, his ideas of grandeur +and persecution were nourished by corresponding deceptions +of sense. Now, this patient had a wife. This wife +regarded her husband as the delegate of God, believed +every word he said, and was completely inoculated with +his delusion. He <i>suggested</i> to her his hallucinations; so +that she confirmed every assertion he made. She was a +weak-minded person, who, under other outward circumstances, +would most likely have exhibited no peculiarities +out of the ordinary.</p> + +<p>In company, and still more in large assemblies, the <i>suggestibility</i> +of almost everybody is heightened.</p> + +<p>Thus, then, morbid symptoms are propagated in any sort +of crowded meeting, and since at spiritualistic reunions +the above-mentioned outward conditions are particularly +favourable to <i>suggestion</i>, it is not necessary that people +should be downright weak-minded. It is only requisite +that there should be among them a goodly sprinkling of +<i>suggestible</i> persons of somewhat hysterical disposition; and +when these are once attacked, the strength of <i>suggestion</i> that +is brought to bear upon the remainder of the company +will be multiplied.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span></p> + +<p>It has been fully proved, and is generally admitted by +spiritualists themselves, that from the beginning a great +deal of trickery—partly mischievous, partly mercenary or +otherwise deliberate—was mingled with the delusions. Besides, +hysterical subjects are apt to be untruthful. At the +same time mere jugglery would not have gone far if it +had had nothing but cold understanding to work upon. +Very often fraud was not present, and still oftener was +superfluous. The real cause of the spiritualistic movement, +broadly considered, was mental and nervous derangement.</p> + +<p>Spiritualism has now, in the main, died out nearly as +much as religious superstition and fanaticism have done. +It is at present almost entirely in the hands of swindlers +and their weak-minded victims.</p> + +<p>With our present knowledge of hysteria, its causes and +symptoms, men of science and all who are enlightened by +its teachings are under a positive obligation, which can not +be shaken off, and must not be shirked, to combat everything +which tends to further superstition or to nourish the +inclination of the people toward mysticism. Our duty it +equally is to set our faces against those pernicious practices +which are calculated to favour and augment that fatal +symptom of hysteria, a heightened <i>suggestibility</i>. The very +first of these practices is that of hypnotism. The hypnotic +state is brought about by <i>suggestion</i> alone. It greatly increases +the suggestibility of the subject. A number of the +most eminent authors have become convinced that hypnotism +is always a morbid state closely allied to hysteria. +Charcot has asserted this most decidedly. His most eminent +scholar, Gilles de la Tourette,⁠<a id="FNanchor_122_122" href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> says: “We believe +that with Cathelineau we have shown by irrefragable proofs +that hysteria and hypnotism are two morbid affections +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>which are closely allied, and, in particular, that hypnosis +is only possible in persons who have a tendency toward +hysteria, although this disease may not have as yet otherwise +manifested itself. It is easily to be conceived, then, +what an influence hypnotic experiments must have upon +the calling forth of hysterical phenomena.” Jolly,⁠<a id="FNanchor_123_123" href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> too, +comes to the conclusion that “habitual hypnotics do not +differ essentially from hysterical subjects.”</p> + +<p>Although not all authors accept this conception of +hypnotism, to which, for my part, I give in my full adhesion, +yet all do agree that hypnotism in the hands of the laity, +used as an amusement and a curiosity, may have the most +unwholesome consequences. I know one case in my own +experience in which such irresponsible fooling, kept up in +spite of emphatic warnings, was followed by severe hysterical +attacks. It is absolutely revolting that public exhibitions +of professional hypnotizers are allowed to exercise their +baleful influence unchecked. The subjects whom the hypnotizer +selects from the audience are persons of high <i>suggestibility</i>, +inclined to hysteria. The persons present are +convinced of the real power of the hypnotizer, because the +subjects are people with whom they are acquainted, who +perhaps are members of their own family, so that all collusion +and trickery are excluded. But fathers and mothers +ought to reflect that it is a morbid state which is being +induced in their daughters, that they are inoculated with a +dangerous poison whose consequences may be destructive. +The young ladies who are put into a cataleptic condition at +the exhibition, who are made to eat raw potatoes for apples, +and the like, are led to show off a mental weakness, and to +be brought into a state of absolute idiocy to excite the +hilarity of the audience. These are the persons who in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>spiritualistic <i lang="fr">séances</i> think they see ghosts of the departed, +and who some centuries ago would have been joining in a +wild dance in the street, or who would have committed +actions leading to their execution, as persons possessed of +the devil. Such exhibitions ought to be prohibited, as they +are in France, for their pernicious influence is beyond question. +As for the employment of hypnotism as a therapeutic +agent, that is a question into which I do not here enter.</p> + +<p>The above study of the causes and mode of origination +of the so-called secular hysteria shows very clearly that +this morbid phenomenon can be brought about under the +most diverse outward conditions, and that, in fact, we meet +with it in history in the most widely separate fields. The +psychological conditions are, however, everywhere the +same—suggestibility, excessive emotionalism, the impulse to +mimicry, and the inclination to mysticism.</p> + +<p>It is highly important to recognise public hysterias in +good season, in order to work against the pernicious influence +of morbid suggestions. It is therefore indubitably a +service to the public to sound in time the warning voice, +and thus protect humanity against great harm. Such a +duty Nordau thinks that he fulfils when he tells us that we +stand “in the midst of a severe mental epidemic, a sort of +black death of degeneration and hysteria.”</p> + +<p>Whether diseases of the nerves, and particularly degeneration +and hysteria, considered as sporadic cases, are at +present more frequently to be observed than in earlier +times can not be determined with certainty. Pertinent +statistics are wanting; and, indeed, all but a small percentage +of cases of hysteria and degeneration remain +without medical treatment, and consequently escape all +statistics. Some general remarks of Nordau—as, for example, +that people nowadays grow gray and bald earlier +than they used to do, and that we lose our power of optical +accommodation earlier than our forefathers did—seem +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>to be assertions without one particle of proof. Now, without +proof they can have no weight, unless we are to allow +our own opinions to be formed by <i>suggestion</i>.</p> + +<p>The chief arguments for Nordau’s opinions are therefore +drawn not from the observation of individuals, but from +the social phenomena of the period, our mental civilization, +in which he believes that he detects the grave malady of +universal degeneration and hysteria. Criticisms, some +judicious and some not so, of fashions, dress, furniture, +and the mode of life of modern society, bring him to the +conclusion that while “to the Philistine the current terms—caprice, +eccentricity, affectation of novelty, imitation—afford +a sufficient explanation” of the phenomena, yet to +the physician, “especially to the specialist for diseases of +the nerves and the mind,” two definite states of disease are +to be diagnosed: to wit, degeneration and hysteria. I must +confess that I myself must, for that “specialist in diseases +of the nerves and of the mind,” Dr. Nordau, fall into the +class of Philistines, inasmuch as I am unable to perceive +that a “thin moustache” or “wild moustache,” that very +short hair or very long hair, afford sufficient grounds for a +diagnosis of degeneration or of hysteria, or that the <i lang="fr">coiffure</i> +and dress of a modern lady, however eccentric and <i lang="fr">outré</i>, +constitute a morbid symptom, indicating a black death of +degeneration. Nay, I must with shame confess that, far +from finding fault with the fashions, it had appeared to me +that the present dress of ladies bore, in many respects, the +marks of sounder sense than the costumes of other epochs. +I recall, for example, the hoop skirts of 1850, or those of the +reign of Queen Anne, before “the age of degeneration and +hysteria” had set in; the side puffs of 1850 extending laterally +six inches right and left from the head, or the vast +structures which were carried on the heads at an earlier +period. Another point may be recollected: In former +days—say in 1850, as a time perfectly remembered by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>many—the iron rule of fashion was such that every kind +of beauty was forced to decorate itself according to one +strict model, while ladies now follow their own individual +tastes and consult their own convenience much more. +Again, that barbaric custom of wounding the female person +in order to stick shiny trinkets into the apertures so +effected is becoming rapidly extinct.</p> + +<p>As for the habitations of modern society, or, in Nordau’s +phrase, the “stage properties and lumber-rooms, rag-shops +and museums,” where a “friar’s cowl” or the “red mantle +of Fra Diavolo” wraps the master of the house “like a +Jackpudding”—these things, if such things there be, are +shocking enough, I readily grant, to the feelings of an +æsthetician. But, after all, I am unable to detect in them +anything worse than coarse taste and coarse ostentation, +qualities which surely have never ceased to mark the majority +of the human race. These things are heirlooms from +our monkey ancestors, not marks of recent degeneration. +When Dr. Nordau declares that the “specialist physician +for diseases of the nerves and of the mind” recognises +degeneracy and hysteria “at first glance” in the passions +and tastes of the “fashionable world,” I do not believe that +he speaks for any great proportion of the profession.</p> + +<p>Whether or not there is such a thing as “correct” taste +or “incorrect” taste is a question that has been endlessly +disputed in spite of the sensible proverb, “<span lang="la">De gustibus non +est disputandum.</span>” If, however, a certain kind of taste is +to be regarded as a symptom of insanity, it will plainly be +necessary to agree first upon some standard of correct taste. +Now, who shall be the arbiter in that matter? Shall +it be the specialist for nervous diseases? If so, what a +revolution will be imperative in our medical schools! Instead +of students devoting their time to anatomy and pathology, +they must be busy forming their tastes, attending +lectures on ladies’ dress, and, in short, must give themselves +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>over to things of that kind. Is it not to be feared lest +after that sort of culture dealings with the insane should +offend their supersensitive organizations? Yet however +exclusive their devotion to aesthetics, differences of artistic +opinion would still subsist among the “specialists in nervous +diseases.” Among them might still be found those who, instead +of seeing a “plague of degeneration” in modern dress, +would think it a happy release from the ideas of those +good old times when, in the absence of secular hysteria, +men wore embroidered coats and had their hands half +covered with lace, and when a long-queued bagwig covered +their heads.</p> + +<p>In short, Nordau does not give a single plausible reason +for treating modern customs and fashions as symptoms of +advanced degeneracy and hysteria. Ever since women became +women they have taken pleasure in the adornment +of their persons. That feminine passion has existed at all +times. Nordau does not tell us why, in modern women, +it is to be taken as a sign of an epidemic disease peculiar to +our age. The simple truth is, that he does not like the present +fashions; and that is enough to make him accuse the +rest of the civilized population of the globe of being degenerate +and hysterical.</p> + +<p>One of the most important symptoms of universal degeneration +is, according to Nordau, incapacity for adaptation, +powerlessness to accommodate one’s self to the existing +order of things. Here, as elsewhere, he goes too far, setting +down anarchists and revolutionists as degenerates, +without further examination. He speaks of a “silly need of +being refractory” on the part of the degenerate, a “union +against taking off one’s hat to people.” In this regard Nordau +must consider his own doctrine as the most striking of +all the signs of the times, in supporting its own contention, +for he himself not only protests against pointed beards, +partings of the hair, and cuts of the clothes, but declares the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>whole population, with the possible exception of those who +share his tastes, to be diseased in mind.</p> + +<p>That is what driving the business of psychiatry in Nordau’s +wholesale style comes to. Whoever judges of a state +of mind merely by comparison with his own sentiments and +feelings, and treats every opinion which departs from his +own as morbid, simply makes a layman’s diagnosis; and +such, in plain truth, is the psychiatric dilettantism of Nordau’s +whole book. No doubt Nordau finds in his “mentally +decayed contemporaries” all the symptoms of degeneration +which Morel, Magnan, and others have described. But his +way of employing the conceptions of psychiatry marks his +complete dilettantism. Every collector who, with a collector’s +passion, buys old bric-a-brac suffers, according to Nordau, +from <i>oniomania</i>, or the mania for purchasing. Whoever +occupies himself more with any matter than Dr. Nordau +deems fitting has imperative ideas. Whoever writes what +Dr. Nordau does not approve is a graphomaniac. Whoever +composes a drama of love suffers from erotomania. Whoever +opens the discussion of a problem concerning which +Dr. Nordau has formed his opinion suffers from the mania +for disputation or the mania for doubt. In this way it is +easy in any given man to detect any given symptom of insanity.</p> + +<p>The reader of Nordau is inclined to regard him as a +humourist rather than as a strictly scientific man. But +comical and, in part, diverting as his psychiatric performances +are, even to the professional man, yet, after all, the +matter has its serious side, especially since his book is addressed +to the laity, among whom such dilettantism may +have quite fatal consequences. We shall therefore be unable +to leave it unnoticed, however little pleasure there may +be in the discussion of such unprofessional opinions.</p> + +<p>“The severe mental epidemic,” “the black death of degeneration +and hysteria,” finds its principal embodiment, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>according to Nordau’s statement, in the art, poetry, and +philosophy of the present time. It may here be objected +that artists and poets form only a minute percentage of the +community, and that it is impossible from them, and nothing +more, to conclude anything in regard to the whole population, +and to base on this such a smashing diagnosis. To +that Nordau replies that the degeneration of our time shows +itself in art and literature, and that the great secular hysteria +is marked in the influence which a degenerate art can exercise +upon the public. Modern art would correspond to the +witch superstition of the Middle Ages which exercised its +baleful influence upon the masses. It is admitted that the +secular hysteria of the Middle Ages forms but a feeble pendant +to our modern disease, for Nordau expressly assures +us that in former times hysteria had no importance for the +general life of society, while it now crushes down the whole +human race. As for that art and literature which are, in +Nordau’s estimation, the embodiment of degeneracy, I shall +consider them in the next chapter. We here concern ourselves +only with their effect upon the masses—that is, with +secular hysteria. Nordau takes as a sample a number of +eminent poets and <i lang="fr">littérateurs</i>, and, having reached the conviction +that every one of them is a degenerate, he hangs +some sort of <i>-ism</i> upon each and thinks that in this way he +has produced a new form of disease, in comparison wherewith +the demonomany and lycanthropy of the Dark Ages +were innocent phenomena. For instance, Nordau specifies +an Ibsenism, a Tolstoiism, and various other such <i>-isms</i>.</p> + +<p>It would, at any rate, be exceedingly interesting if Dr. +Nordau could furnish us with accurate analyses of these <i>-ism</i> +diseases, and tell us in what they consist. But of this there +is not one word. He just mentions the authors, labels each +with his cheaply manufactured <i>-ism</i>, and thus the plague of +the great secular hysteria receives its names. To judge by +what Nordau tells us, Ibsenism and Tolstoiism are symptoms +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>of a disease which has attacked the population and which +manifests itself in states of high emotion. Surely, then, +since there is supposed to be a terrible and pestlike malady +whose symptoms are Ibsenism, etc., these phenomena must +greatly surpass all previous hysterias of the masses. But in +point of fact there is not the slightest trace of anything of +the sort. Like every new phenomenon, the writers named +have excited public interest in a certain measure; but there +never has been observed any morbid state or affection of +the masses due to the influence of any of those writers. If +by Ibsenism, Tolstoiism, etc., Nordau means morbid conceptions +of the world, of art, of social relations, etc., it only +amounts to this: that those authors’ ways of thinking do not +accord with his own. In the place of objective proof of disease +Dr. Nordau leaves a blank.</p> + +<p>Anybody acquainted with modern society must agree +that the influence of those poets and writers to whose +names Nordau attaches the termination <i>-ism</i> is a pretty +slight one. How many people have ever heard of Ibsen +and Tolstoi? For most persons art is but a pastime. +They only go to the theatre for recreation and distraction. +Well-to-do people, especially in the great cities, may have +seen a play by Ibsen. The worthy matron pronounces that +Nora did wrong in running away from her husband and +children. But they trouble their heads very little with +any purpose the writer may have had. That is all the +Ibsenism that is prevalent.</p> + +<p>As for Tolstoi’s philosophical view’s, they are neither so +well known nor so influential that one can speak even of a +school of Tolstoiism. The unhappy and insane Nietzsche +does not represent the way of thinking of the public, and +never attained such importance that we could conclude +from his success that his doctrines represented the general +state of mind.</p> + +<p>For an echo of the alleged degenerate art we shall therefore +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>seek in vain in the mass of mankind; and as for +the thence inferred “putrefaction” of our contemporaries +and the “black death of degeneracy and hysteria,” they +are mere phantoms of the pessimistic fancy of Dr. Nordau +and his learned colleagues.</p> + +<p>Had Nordau in his sharp critique of existing conditions +in the fields of society, literature, and art made no pretension +to any other standpoint than that of the æsthetician +and art critic, his work, in spite of its many eccentricities +and falsities, would undeniably not have been without service, +for he lays the scourge that is their due upon many +a folly and absurdity of our time. But when he wraps himself +in the solemn garb of science and, assuming the position +of a psychiatrist, hurls the ban of degeneracy and hysteria +upon everything that does not meet his approval, he can +only be called a psychiatric <i>dilettante</i>.</p> + +<p>It may be granted that a sort of secular hysteria really +does exist. No doubt many erroneous doctrines of art and +science are propagated by the <i>suggestibility</i> and emotionalism +of the hysterical masses, and many evils are partly due +to these phenomena. At the same time, it is certain that, +thanks to the progress of science, the influence of mental +disorders upon the general culture is decidedly less at +present than in former periods of history, and that to-day +hysterias of the masses, such as broke out in the Middle +Ages, are relatively infrequent. This, however, does not +imply that the number of isolated cases of derangement +is less than it formerly was.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="ART_AND_INSANITY"> + ART AND INSANITY. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>A psychological judgment of a man demands a double +estimation of his mental action. We have to consider that +action, in the first place, as strictly personal, and in the +second place as a link in the great chain of growing humanity. +Every epoch has its errors and falsities, and every +man is subject to the spirit of his times, from which he is +powerless to free himself. Even those mental heroes who +outstripped their age in hardy flight and turned culture +into new paths clung in part to the erroneous views of +their contemporaries, and, as Goethe says, were connected +with their century by their defects. We need never consider +the errors and perversities of the time as a morbid +symptom, for then all mankind would always have been +mad. What one period of history has held to be high +and holy another has derided and scorned; and absolute, +irrefragable truth no age has been able to bring forth. +The error of the time must not, therefore, be confounded +with that phenomenon which was described in the last +chapter under the name of secular hysteria. In this latter +we have a typical image of disease observable at all times +and particularly characterized by definite sensational ideas. +It makes no difference what the matter of the ideas is; it is +rather the whole behaviour—the collective phenomenon of +the persons concerned—by which they are marked as sick. +The same persons who, in the Middle Ages, danced through +the streets as bewitched, might perhaps, in other eras, have +become fanatic revolutionists; or they might hold intercourse +with spirits of the departed in spiritualistic circles, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>but they would always exhibit the same typical image of +hysteria. On the other hand, the error of the time affects +all alike, the strong-minded as much as the weak-minded. +Everybody in the Middle Ages believed in witches and +devils, so they can not be called insane for that. They +simply partook of the universal error of their age. If Luther +had been born in the nineteenth century he probably +would not have believed in a personal devil at all.</p> + +<p>It would therefore be absurd to judge of mental sanity +by comparing the subject’s opinions with our own. Our +only fixed standard is the body of society. If a scientifically +educated man of our day were to pay divine honour +to a bull, and ascribe to it almighty power, there would be +a plain pathological state. But in early Egypt such a belief +would accord with the universal notion of the universe, and +in a subject of Pharaoh would bespeak only the error of his +time and no derangement of mind. A few centuries ago +astrology was practised by even the most eminent men. +How firmly Wallenstein believed in such things is well +known. So great a man as Kepler wrote as follows: +“According to the configurations of the rays of the stars +at the birth of a man, life flows to the new-born in this or +that form. If the configuration is harmonic, a fine form of +heart arises, and this builds itself a beautiful habitation. +At the same time the strong are born of the strong, the +good of the good. Single cases stand under the might of +God and under his permission in the strength of the tutelary +spirit. If the heart is prepared for evil, one must +endeavour to improve it. Harmony is completeness of relations. +Only the Infinite knows the harmony of the +spheres in their full extent; the earth-ball has but a feeble +after-feeling. This after-feeling animates the earth-soul and +makes the man cleverer for thinking and for every deed.”</p> + +<p>Just as we look back upon the errors of the past and consider +them as a weakness of humanity gradually overcome, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>so will future generations perhaps look back upon us. +What we to-day hold for irrefragable truth, coming generations +may indicate as the mightiest errors. The world has +always erred, and so long as there are men there will be +errors.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0" lang="de">Es irrt der Mensch, so lang er strebt.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">(As long as man strives he errs.)</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>We grow up in the errors of the time, we have them before +us from childhood, and the average man takes them +without consideration as true. Religion, art, morals, manners—all +human culture—have their inheritance of weakness +and error handed down from generation to generation and +from century to century.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Es erben sich Gesetz und Rechte</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wie eine ew’ge Krankheit fort.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">(Law and rights are inherited like a disease that never dies out.)</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>One of the chief characteristics of those powerful natures +whom the world has to thank for its progress and its knowledge +of new facts is, therefore, an absolute doubt of the truth +of everything. “He who does not doubt,” says Hagen,⁠<a id="FNanchor_124_124" href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> +“whether what is known concerning any matter may not be +false, has no capacity for discovery; and for the finding out +of new ways and laws, not only is he unfitted who has little +understanding, but so is he, too, who has merely understanding, +who is unable to conceive how it is possible to +think otherwise about things concerning which the world +has long since made up its mind.” Hagen here quotes an +admirable remark of Lichtenberg: “The common man always +conforms to the reigning opinion and reigning fashion. +He holds the state in which things now are to be the only +one possible, and assumes an altogether passive attitude. It +does not occur to him that everything, from the form of the +furniture to the finest hypothesis, has been resolved upon in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>the great council of men of which he is a member. The +great genius, on the other hand, always asks, Might not this +be untrue?”</p> + +<p>While, therefore, we should certainly be guilty of a great +error if, judging of an individual, we were to lay the errors +of the time to his account, yet we should proceed in a thoroughly +amateurish way if we were to regard as deranged +those great thinkers who doubt the truth and the value of +existing relations, or who in their sentiments and views depart +from common sense. The great crowd has a way of +calling everything “crazy” which it does not understand or +which departs from its ancient habits, however irrational +those ways and habits may be. But whoever is acquainted +with the psychical development of humanity will see in this +only a matter of course—phenomena that are necessary and +that continually occur.</p> + +<p>To judge an individual, then, it is not so important to +consider <em>what</em> he thinks and does as <em>how</em> he thinks it, or +what his motives for doing it may be. “<span lang="la">Duo cum faciunt +idem non est idem.</span>” That which in one man may be +the symptom of mental derangement is perhaps in another +brought on by a perfectly healthy and rational mental +action. The psychiatrist must therefore not halt at the +outward phenomenon, but will have to consider the casual +connection of the psychical condition, and must endeavour +to find the secret springs of the acts or words in question.</p> + +<p>National psychology has to proceed in a similar way in +judging of single phenomena. The spirit of the time, the +soul of the people, which is expressed in the most diverse +departments—politics, philosophy, art, literature—can only +be appreciated and correctly understood when it is considered +in its causal connections as a link in the great chain +of historical development. Torn from its connections, no +epoch of art or literature can be comprehended, and such +fragmentary data will give rise to mistakes, while the creations +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>of art as parts of a great whole, as links of a great +chain, shed great light upon the thought and feeling of their +time. An exact knowledge of the way in which single phenomena +have arisen, an ascertainment of the motives of definite +artistic expressions, are absolutely requisite for the correct +judgment of art as a symptom of the contemporary soul +of the people, as a partial manifestation of the spirit of the +times. Whoever considers our modern art relations as +things in themselves and leaves unnoticed their connection +with times past and their psychological origin, will surely fail +if he wishes to appreciate the same as material for a judgment +upon the collective spirit of the times.</p> + +<p>If one walks through a modern exhibition of paintings +and observes there the viewers of pictures, how they sometimes +stand shaking their heads before this picture or that +without being able to make out what it was at all that the +artist was trying to paint; if he considers the peculiar collections +of colours, the glaring contrasts, the vague outlines, +the peculiar ground tone, he will be led to say to himself +that our time has introduced a new method of pictorial representation, +and both the art critic and the psychologist must +seek the <i lang="fr">raison d’être</i> of the new art.</p> + +<p>Nordau says: “All these new tendencies, realism or naturalism, +‘decadentism,’ neomysticism, and their sub-varieties, +are manifestations of degeneration and hysteria, and identical +with the mental stigmata which the observations of +clinicists have unquestionably established as belonging to +these.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_125_125" href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> Certain peculiarities in painting are explained by +Nordau as due to defects of vision of the painter. “The +curious style of certain recent painters—‘impressionists,’ +‘stipplers,’ or ‘mosaists,’ ‘papilloteurs,’ or ‘quiverers,’ ‘roaring’ +colourists, dyers in gray and faded tints—becomes at +once intelligible to us if we keep in view the researches of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>the Charcot school into the visual derangements in degeneration +and hysteria.”⁠<a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> Vagueness of outline is produced, +Nordau says, by nystagmus, or trembling of the eyeball. +Insensibility of patches of the retina occurs among degenerates. +The result must be, he says, that the subjects do not +see distinctly rounded images. If such a person paints what +he sees he will be inclined to put spots, larger or smaller, +side by side, the spots not being united together, or only +imperfectly. Some painters, according to Nordau, are +capable of only certain colour-sensations and perceptions, +and sometimes see but a single hue. This affords his explanation +of peculiar colourists, the preference for particular +colours, and the monotone frequent in modern art. Dun-coloured +painting is a consequence of complete absence of +the sensation of colour, or <i>achromatopsia</i>.</p> + +<p>Some colours have, according to Nordau, peculiar effects +upon the nervous system. Thus red has a “force-producing” +or “dynamogenous” property; and thus, says Nordau, +it is easy to understand “that hysterical painters revel +in red, and that hysterical beholders take special pleasure in +pictures operating dynamogenously and producing feelings +of pleasure.” Other colours, especially violet, have an inhibiting +and debilitating effect upon the nervous system. +“The sight of this colour has a depressing effect, and the +unpleasant feeling awakened by it induces dejection in a +sorrowfully disposed mind. This suggests that painters suffering +from hysteria and neurasthenia will be inclined to +cover their pictures uniformly with the colour most in accordance +with their condition of lassitude and exhaustion. +When the entire surface of walls in <i lang="fr">salons</i> and art exhibitions +of the day appears veiled in uniform half mourning, this predilection +for violet is simply an expression of the nervous +debility of the painter.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span></p> + +<p>These remarks of Mr. Nordau may seem to many quite +clever. It must be confessed that the audacity and self-importance +with which he enunciates the most incredible +propositions, as if he were giving information of irrefragable +truth, is startling, at least. Nor does he on any single +occasion make the least attempt to bring any evidence to +support his arbitrary assertions, or to prove them by objective +observations. All that Mr. Nordau tells us of impairment +of vision of painters, of the defects of their retinas, +of their nystagmus, etc., is the product of his fancy, of his +imagination. Why did he not actually investigate a number +of painters and convince himself how far his imaginations +corresponded with facts before he put them before +the world as new discoveries? Mr. Nordau has nothing to +utter but unfounded assertions. Not only is proof of them +entirely wanting, but their falsity is in every instance capable +of ready demonstration. Whoever has had the opportunity +of coming in contact with painters knows that they +are not colour-blind and have no trembling of the eyeball, +even if they belong to new schools of art. With the +same logic with which Mr. Nordau, from the colouring +of modern painters, diagnoses a “weakness of the nerves,” +he might, in the great painters of the Renaissance, who gave +expression in their pictures to the religious ideas of the +time, find a general religious insanity. It can hardly be +necessary to examine more closely such superficialities, +which ought to make no pretension to a scientific character.</p> + +<p>Before I undertake the psychological analysis of the +phenomena of the world of art of to-day let me be permitted, +for the sake of avoiding misunderstandings, to define certain +philosophical concepts which have been transported +into the language of art criticism. I mean the variously +applied designations, Realism, Naturalism, Idealism, and +Romanticism.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span></p> + +<p>By Realism I mean the aim to reproduce everything +just as it is perceived by the eye in colour, form, and light, +without adding or subtracting anything for the sake of +beauty. Its contrary is Idealism, which takes for its task +to weed from every fact its most beautiful aspect, and to +suppress the unbeautiful by silence and by cloaking it, so +that beauty may shine forth in all its lustre. Thus these +two terms refer exclusively to the outward form of art, to +its mode of presentation. A centaur playing with a nymph, +or any other subject, can be painted realistically just as well +as it can be painted idealistically. By Naturalism I mean +an artistic aim which takes for its subjects such things as +the world of observation (<i lang="de">Natur</i>) affords, and renders only +actual facts, actual creatures. Romanticism, on the other +hand, gives free rein to fancy, enriches the world with +angels and devils, and draws its subjects from religious or +mythological sources.</p> + +<p>These different elements have from of old, and at all +periods, played a great rôle in the history of art. They +mostly depended on the spirit of the times. They answered +to the feeling and thought of the people, and manifested +themselves at the same period in different branches +of art in the same way. According to the above definitions, +ancient Greek art was prevailingly romantic. The character +of this ideal, myth-forming people expressed itself distinctly +in its art. Gods and heroes were the subjects of the +masterpieces of Greek statuary; gods and heroes were sung +by the poets who inspired the people through the theatre. +This Romanticism was coupled with the Idealism proper +to the Greeks. The beautiful alone seemed to them worthy +of being represented. Symmetry of limb and a bold, courageous +eye were to them as indispensable in sculpture as +euphony and rhythm were in the drama. In the rough +presentation of the fights of the Lapithæ and Centaurs, of +gods and giants, they always knew how to vindicate the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>rights of the beautiful. By pictorial grouping, by rich +drapery of the vestments, by the beauty of the forms, +the agreeable and conciliating were kept constantly before +the sight.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, a certain Realism and Naturalism are discernible +even in Greek art. Among the numerous portrait +statues dug up at Olympia we find not seldom realistical +busts whose faces had been abraded or bruised in boxing. +The cherries of Zeuxis, at which the birds picked, are an +example of realistic Naturalism. This aim in art was yet +more active with the Romans, without, however, rising to +be the prevalent tendency.</p> + +<p>After Art had gone to sleep in the decadence of Greeks +and Romans, it was reawakened in an age when a new idea +and a new metaphysics, or conception of the universe, filled +the minds of the peoples. Christianity, after a struggle of +centuries, had conquered the world, and it offered a new +romantic world to art. Hence arose that art of the Christian-romantic +ages which prevailed until recently. Among +single artists a certain inclination toward Naturalism showed +itself during the whole period; but it could not endure in +opposition to the all-ruling Romanticism which provided +its subjects partly from Christianity and partly from antiquity. +It was not until the nineteenth century that an +open warfare broke out between Romanticism and Naturalism, +while Realism at the same time sought to displace +Idealism. What value Realism and Naturalism may have +in comparison to Idealism and Romanticism let professed +art critics decide. Our part is only to examine the phenomena +from a psychological standpoint and to discover the +motives which produced those phenomena.</p> + +<p>In the course of time, as in all new movements, parties +and schools were formed which waged the fiercest warfare, +every man holding his school and his method to be +the only right one. It is easily understood that in a matter +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>of this kind, in the effort to make one’s own point of view +as important as possible, a contestant will shoot far over the +mark he had originally set before himself. So it happened +that the realists, who in the beginning only opposed idealism +in so far as to say that the task of art is to represent +Nature in its truth, without concealment and without prevarication, +were spurred on by opposition to mark their +effort in their work much more strongly than was needful, +so that they not only presented the ugly and disgusting, +because they would not deny the existence of those elements, +but went so far as to seek it out, and at last quite +forgot the beautiful and overlooked it in their attention to +the ugly.</p> + +<p>It is the same with the Naturalists in their attitude toward +Romanticism. Their zeal to represent real life just +as it is went beyond all measure. The stronger the opposition +to the new movement, the more zealously did they try +to bring forward the ugly and common, while entirely overlooking +the good. In this way genuine Realism and Naturalism +were corrupted, and the picture often became little +better than a burlesque.</p> + +<p>The inclination, in the pursuit of a new idea, to press it +far beyond what was originally intended is a phenomenon +grounded in the normal human character, and found not +merely in art, but in every department of human production.</p> + +<p>Carl Gussow was the founder of the latest Realism in +German painting. His endeavour was to represent Nature, +unadorned, in its truth, without shrinking at any blemish +whatever. His peculiar colouring, the new manner of his +technique, his tendency to give special prominence to ugliness, +raised at the first appearance of his pictures in Berlin +a decided and general disapproval. But voices of wrath +soon became weaker and weaker, adherents and admirers +began to appear, imitators arose, and a new school was +founded.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span></p> + +<p>Somewhat earlier, but in exactly the same way, a yet +more extreme Realism and Naturalism had been started in +France. Manet was the founder of a new school in which +we see a radically new artistic aim. While hitherto painters +had hastily sketched in the open air what they observed, +and afterward in their studios had repainted it, +drawing largely from fancy in the process, and indifferent +to the difference of light, Manet carried on his painting +<i lang="fr">en plein air</i>. The image, just as it presented itself to +the sight, and at that very moment, must be put upon the +canvas. Of course, these “impressionists” had voluntarily +to renounce all finer technique. They clutched at the +coarsest methods, in order that they might quickly, and +without sophistication, reproduce the impression seen. The +soft transition of colours which the old masters thought +they perceived in Nature did not exist for Manet. For +him every object bore its own abrupt colour. In a landscape +illuminated by a dazzling sun, the green of the fields, +the blue of the sky, the red of the roof tiles, stood unmitigated +and abruptly adjacent.</p> + +<p>This sort of Realism, combined with a corresponding +Naturalism, called forth a veritable hurricane of censure. +Again and again were the canvases of Manet rejected by +the <i lang="fr">Salon</i>, so that he had to hold an exhibition of his own. +Nevertheless, a group of young men collected about him, +and it augmented as time rolled on; so that at last he became +a factor in the history of art. The endeavour to bring +unfalsified Nature upon the canvas led to special studies +of light. Previously the pictures produced in the artist’s +studio had a certain conventional illumination. Now there +was an effort to reproduce with the brush the colours as +they were presented to the artist’s sight under bright sunshine, +in the dusk, in bad weather, by artificial light, etc. +Thus arose the dazzling colours which represent the effects +of direct sunlight. The violet landscapes show the attempt +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>to reproduce the illumination of the dusk; the “wan painting,” +as Nordau calls it, is intended to represent the mist-filled +landscape of the great heats of summer. It is not +our part to decide how far the painters who have pursued +this aim have been justified by success. The only task of +psychology is to ascertain the psychical processes which +were the reason of the production of the picture. To criticise +it does not belong to psychological or to psychiatrical +science. The psychiatrist as such is a layman in the department +of art, and would be guilty of transgressing the +limits of his competence were he to undertake to give a +judgment of a work of art, especially to draw from it psychiatric +conclusions.</p> + +<p>As for the general end of art, we have seen, in considering +the psychology of genius, that fixed rules for it do not +exist. The kind of art considered needs neither a creative +fancy nor a refined feeling in order to express the peculiar +moods of the painter in artistic form, for painters who attempt +that are rare. They wend their solitary way, without +following the army of any school.</p> + +<p>Nordau sees in the “formation of close groups or +schools” a symptom of degeneration and hysteria.⁠<a id="FNanchor_126_126" href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> He +says: “Healthy artists or authors in possession of minds in +a condition of well-regulated equilibrium will never think +of grouping themselves into an association.... True talent +is always personal. In its creations it reproduces itself, +its own views and feelings, and not the articles of faith +learned from any æsthetic apostle.” This assertion is not +true. Nordau confounds genius and talent; and this shows +how important it is to be clear in such expressions. Simple +talent by no means possesses the properties stated by +Nordau.</p> + +<p>Jean Paul Richter⁠<a id="FNanchor_127_127" href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> drastically styles the man of talent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>“the gaily imitating ape of genius.” Men of talent to whom +Nature has denied creative power have from of old formed +groups and schools. Even Schiller became the founder of +a school, although Goethe said his scholars could learn no +more than his language. In the formation of schools nobody +ever before saw a morbid symptom. But does Mr. +Nordau see what he is doing when he classes as degenerate +and hysterical all painters who possess only talent and are +wanting in the creative power of genius? His great saint, +Lombroso, to whom he has consecrated himself, says that +“if in the nature of a genius signs of an abnormal disposition +are wanting, there must be some deceptive circumstance.” +Yet Nordau holds those artists to be degenerate +who have only talent and not genius. According to this, +we must come to the conclusion that if a man has genius +he is insane, and if he has only talent he is degenerate. +Here the great doctrine blossoms out into its essential absurdity. +But as for groups and schools, in what department +are they worse nuisances than in science, and in +particular in those branches to whose advocates Mr. Nordau +appeals by preference?</p> + +<p>In realistic and naturalistic movements some great +painters, I admit, were concerned; and these embodied +their own intuitions and sentiments in their art. But they +are scattered sparsely, rising like rocks here and there out +of the dead level of the ocean.</p> + +<p>Böcklin was a painter whose pictures contain the sentiments +and moods of an artist. He tried by colouring and +by the peculiarity of his colour tones to lend to his pictures +a mood which should affect the spectator like the tones of +music, like the harmonies of an organ. In this idealistic +garment of painting he wrapped, as a rule, a romantic subject. +His figures are centaurs, nymphs, satyrs, bacchantes, +mermaids, etc. He does not trouble himself much about +the correctness of his drawing, so that the grossest errors +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>in that respect are common enough with him. All he +aimed at was to embody certain moods in painting, and +this he fully succeeded in doing in his Isle of the Dead, +his Elysian Fields (<span lang="de">Die Gefilde der Seeligen</span>), his Leviathan +(<span lang="de">Meerungeheuer</span>), and his Prometheus Bound. Böcklin +is justly called a poet in painting. He knew how to +speak in colour tones and how to awaken the most diverse +kinds of moods. In spite of all enmities, he soon found adherents +and imitators, who have had no slight influence on +the subsequent development of art.</p> + +<p>Let these brief sketches suffice to describe the mode of +psychological origination of modern phenomena in this department. +What we have here seen are but repetitions of +facts often to be observed in history. New ideas, especially +when they emerge suddenly and without preparation, and, +above all, if they contain great departures from ancient +customs, have always a rough fight to make. They have +generally excited a storm of abuse and an apparently invincible +opposition. It may be said that just those ideas +which later appeared to have opened the paths of advance +the most met at first the most stubborn resistance. It is in +human nature to hold fast to the ancient inheritances and +to turn away from them unreadily. Hence we must deduce +the proposition that all novelties ought to be met in as fair a +spirit as possible, and that we must always reflect that we +are apt to have an unconscious prejudice against new ideas +which depart from our habits.</p> + +<p>But there is another class of men who, on the contrary, +think everything new to be sublime and beautiful. Since +they really understand neither the new nor the old, they +cherish the vague feeling that the more strange and unintelligible +a proposition is, the more judicious and “profound” +it must be. They speak in raptures and ecstasy of +the new art, and think it extremely clever to throw out as +many technical terms as they may have picked up without +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>precisely understanding them. Nordau terms these “persons +of superior intelligence who look down with pity upon +the Philistine” who can not rise to their genius for understanding +art, as all hysterical. I can not share this conception. +It seems to me rather a characteristic due to social conditions +and to imperfect education. The ostentation and vanity +which so often show themselves in externals, such as furniture, +etc., are still more manifest in men’s acting and thinking. +Many parents educate their children, not for the sake +of making of them well-prepared and serviceable men, but +for the sake of being able to make a show with them. Not +the happiness of their children, but their own vanity, is, unfortunately, +but too often the leading motive. Children are +taught music, not to form their heart in the beauty of art +and to ennoble their sense, but from vanity, to bring them +forward as trained monkeys. This vanity, this passion to appear +more than they are, is inculcated into many children of +so-called good society from their childhood up. They have +to dazzle by their many-sided capacity, by their understanding +of art and learning. Evidently, it is for the most part +hollow, and if the thin covering of superficiality is raised, +nothing but a desert void is found. But they show well, +and that is the main point. In society, it of course belongs +to good tone to chat about philosophy, literature, and art, +whether one knows anything or not. Indeed, the more +strange and unintelligible anything is, the more they feel +obliged to surround themselves with an appearance of intelligence. +If the question is about painting, they prate +about the powerful “mood”; in music the “working up of +the counterpoint” impresses them, without their having the +slightest understanding of such things.</p> + +<p>I should never think of declaring anybody diseased on +account of such traits of character as these, nor should I +excuse his silliness in that way. No, it is not hysteria, but +simply bad education that is in question. Educate your +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>children to candour and integrity, impress upon them that +truth is the most indispensable of all virtues, that there is +nothing more contemptible than the wish to appear to be +more than one really is, and thus clear the world of such +fools!</p> + +<p>The sort of men whom I have here described are in +their inculcated superficiality of course aware of no inclination +to take up a serious calling. They would like to be +imposing and to make themselves spoken of; that is their +highest ambition, and often the highest ambition of their +pretentious parents for them. Some feel themselves called +upon to become actors; others, musicians; others, painters; +others, to delight the world with their literary performances. +No serious study is contemplated, of course. With a +certain enthusiasm they range themselves with any new +aim in art. They do not comprehend the spirit of it, but +they mimic the externals of the masters.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How he hawks and how he spits,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To spy that out they’ve used their wits!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">When they have daubed a canvas violet or dark blue +they think that they have created a mood. If they can +handle a brush like a broomstick and smear about with +it so that one can not tell whether the picture is upside +down or right side up, they call themselves, with pride, +modern realists and naturalists.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly there are a number of hysterical and degenerate +subjects among this class of people. But, in order +to establish this, it is necessary thoroughly to investigate +every single case, since this trait of character alone does +not constitute disease. It would also be extremely fallacious +to reason from this sort of men to the population in +general. They are, at all events, exceptional individuals. +Moreover, such people have existed at all periods of history. +We have seen that Kant painted them in 1788 as a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>well-known category of society, calling them the “monkeys +of genius.” And in no age can the existence of such persons +escape the sharp observer.</p> + +<p>The phenomena whose acquaintance we have made in +the department of painting have their analogues in modern +literature. Here, too, the Romanticism and Idealism of an +earlier period of art are, in accordance with our scientific +metaphysics, displaced by Naturalism and Realism. Thus +the historical drama, whose subjects poets used to take +from prehistorical times and whose characters they altered +and idealized at will, as well as the romantic drama, in +which the fantastical and supernatural came to expression, +belong to times gone by. The modern poet draws his subjects +not from early ages, but from the present. He does +not create his characters, but seeks to reproduce what he +has himself observed. He does not conceal any defect or +weakness of his stage heroes, but deals out equal justice to +the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. The +language of which he avails himself is not poetical, sonorous, +or metaphorical. His heroes spout no iambics, but +speak, for all the world, like all of us. In short, we are +living in the Bessemer-metal age of literature, and poetry +sounds ridiculous to us.</p> + +<p>This realistic and naturalistic impulse in literature, which +for its outward form uses the novel as well as the drama, +first found vent in France. It has very often shot far beyond +its mark, just as it has done in painting. Anxiety not to conceal +ugliness in a weak preference for beauty, and to tell the +truth that evil as well as good exists, has egged on writers +to hunting up whatsoever things were hideous and whatsoever +things were revolting, and has made them lose sight of +the beauty and the good that really do exist.</p> + +<p>Other motives, however, may contribute to this effect. +A number of writers prefer to paint whatever is unlovely, +and especially immoralities, not in the above-described and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>half-involuntary way, but for the sake of the moral. They +do not look upon their art as descriptive merely, but as +partly rhetorical. That is to say, they do not paint life +truthfully without having an ulterior design. They do so +because the truth must awaken the moral sense of the people +and their aspirations for a better life. While the idealist, +in the pursuit of the same object, paints man in a lofty +and scarce realized perfection, the realist points out the +shortcomings and feebleness of what actually exists. He +paints vice, not with the false glamour which an inclination +for it would shed upon it, but in the true hideousness of its +details, so that the contemplation of it may excite horror.</p> + +<p>It is not my task to pass judgment upon the value and +justification of the different aims of art. I only analyze them +psychologically. I therefore pass at once to another class +of writers, who have the same preference for painting immoralities +from a third motive.</p> + +<p>These are those same uneducated and unintelligent ignoramuses +whom we mentioned above; for literature, too, is +reduced to hack work in their hands. Many persons whose +capacities were sufficient to make them good artisans, who +might have been taught, perhaps, to make a really good +pair of shoes, or otherwise to fulfil a useful function in the +world, stick to the pen, because a bad writer is more respectable +than a good mechanic. They write, not because +they have any calling for literature, but because they know +no other trade. These factotums of the great literary army, +shooting up like toadstools from the dung heap, seize upon +every dripping of filth that they can smell out, and ask themselves, +“How much money can I make with this production?” +The question, “What is the literary value of this +fact?” does not occur to them. That the task of art and +literature is to ennoble the taste of the public they have +clean forgotten, even if they ever thought of it. On the +contrary, they speculate on the baser impulses and evil qualities +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>of the rabble. They have spied out the externals of the +modern Naturalists and Realists without attempting to penetrate +into the spirit of their works. Like senseless monkeys, +they wade through vulgarities and obscenities in order +to excite the hankerings of the great crowd, in order to be +known as writers of the modern school, and in order to succeed +in a financial sense. The shameful influence of this +sort of authors—or, rather, writers—upon the population is +rooted in the disproportions of modern society. A reform +in this respect can only come from their gradual removal +and from the elevation of the culture and taste of the people.</p> + +<p>Here, again, we meet, too, those unfortunate degenerate +subjects who possess a certain literary gift, but whose +whole mental action is morbid. They often show that +marked inclination for every kind of vileness and coarseness +which is called moral insanity. This can not fail to +betray itself in their writings. The frivolous and vulgar +attract them, because they answer to their own thought and +feeling. The more obscene and indecent is the subject +with which they deal, the more they feel themselves in their +own free element. But we must not reason from the character +of these last writers to that of authors as a whole. +It is not they who give literature in general its purpose. +They only ape the form of genuine authorship without +being able to comprehend its purpose.</p> + +<p>Thus the Realism and Naturalism which are found in +all departments of modern art and literature are not, as +Nordau thinks, marks of a universal putrescence and nervous +prostration, a “pestilential malady of degeneration and hysteria.” +Though those endeavours often overshoot their +mark, they are simply signs of that universal spirit of the +times that desiderates truth and fact, and gives the lie to +all that is mystical and supernatural.</p> + +<p>The foregoing inquiries show that the same phenomena +in art may be produced in ways most diverse psychologically. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>It is the most unscientific levity to treat them +summarily and to say, as Nordau does, that whoever paints +violet pictures has weak nerves, or whoever paints in the +manner of Manet has lesions of the retina, etc. In a psychiatric +diagnosis it is requisite strictly to individualize; +and thus we are brought to a question of the highest importance +for the psychiatrist: <em>How far can we, from a work +of art or literature, diagnose a mental disease of its author?</em></p> + +<p>The influence of derangements of the mind upon the +action of the subjects depends, in the first place, upon the +kind of disease. In a great number of cases the disease +does not manifest itself at all in action. In others, in consequence +of diminished efficiency, the value of the work is +diminished, and finally positively insane ideas may be manifest +in products of the insane.</p> + +<p>In an acquired disease accompanied with gradual decay +of intelligence, as in general paresis, the disease may be detected +by comparison with previous performances, and occasionally +the typical perversities in the works of these +patients lead to recognition of their misfortune. In the +congenital weakness of mind of degenerate artists and <i lang="fr">littérateurs</i> +case is different. The example of Courbet shows +that a weak-minded man may paint very nice pictures while +sane persons sometimes mine out the vilest stuff. For this +reason the value of a work of art is not decisive in the diagnosis +of the mental condition. Nor, as I said before, is the +psychiatrist, as such, competent to express an opinion concerning +the value of such a work.</p> + +<p>Sometimes delusions make their appearance in everything +the insane person does. A painter may, in consequence +of religious delusions, paint nothing but pictures of +saints. But to maintain the converse—that whoever paints +nothing but saints is suffering from religious insanity—would +be ridiculous. No diagnosis, therefore, of insanity can be +made from a painting or similar work of art, nor from a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>musical composition. A musician under melancholia may, +owing to his morbid mood, compose only elegies and funeral +marches; but that does not authorize us to presume that because +a composer only writes elegiac music he is probably +insane. The assertion of certain supersubtile minds that +certain compositions of Schumann’s betray his morbid state +of heart rests upon mere words, and deserves no notice.</p> + +<p>But with writers it is quite otherwise. Their action is +much more comprehensive, and commonly affords a much +deeper insight into the psychical life of the author than a +painting can do. It is within the power of a poet or a +writer to disclose in his creations a mirror of his whole +inner life, his sentiments, and his thoughts. Hence we +shall sometimes be quite able to diagnose the insanity of a +<i lang="fr">littérateur</i> from his works.</p> + +<p>But even here we must proceed with the utmost caution +and reserve. The descriptions of the poet can only attain +a diagnostic value when they have express reference to his +own individuality. The objective description of situations +and characters can usually afford no inference concerning +the psychical life of the poet, and we should commit a +gross error were we, without any particular information, +to identify him with a character created by him. Elegiac +and melancholy verses, even when they bespeak the sentiments +of the poet, can not, taken by themselves, justify us in +presuming a pathological condition. We have seen how +Goethe frequently grieved nigh unto death, and really +contemplated suicide, yet we should not be justified in +assuming melancholy in the psychiatric sense.</p> + +<p>Where manifest delusions are described we can, in many +cases, state positively that the writer is insane. We shall +do so with all the greater certainty when it is not merely +insanity in general that is indicated, but the description +takes on the type of a well-known morbid form.</p> + +<p>Rousseau is a good instance in point. His Confessions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>and Dialogues afford proof positive of insanity. A +typical delusion of persecution is manifest in his saying that +“the Kings of Russia, England, and France, all nobles, the +women, the priests, and mankind in general,” wounded by +some statements in his works, “had banded themselves together +and declared a dreadful war” upon him. A full +examination of the insanity of Rousseau, with special reference +to the above works, has been undertaken by Möbius.⁠<a id="FNanchor_128_128" href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Tasso, who suffered from <i lang="la">melancholia agitata</i> complicated +with hallucinations, wrote in a letter: “My sadness is so +deep and persistent that people often think me crazy, and +I am forced to assent to the opinion myself when I am not +able to shut my thoughts up within my breast, but break +out into long monologues. My hallucinations are human +and demoniac. The human express themselves in shouts +and cries, such as men, and particularly women, utter, and +in bestial laughter. The demoniac express themselves in +songs, etc. I take a book in my hand to gain some information, +and at once voices sound in my ears and I distinguish +the names of Paolo and Fulvia.” A quite typical +example of a modern poet whose insanity can be determined +from his works is Strindberg with his passionate misogyny +and his other absurdities. A comprehensive account of the +state of mind of this author as betrayed in his writings +would fill a volume. I will therefore merely note the most +important points in a single writing which fully suffice to +render the diagnosis of his insanity certain.</p> + +<p>In <span lang="de">Die Beichte eines Thoren</span> (The Confession of a Fool) +Strindberg describes his ten years of married life. His +wife had been divorced from her first husband, a baron. +The book is, in substance, a serious complaint against this +wife, whom he accuses of infidelity. If a sane man thinks +himself betrayed by his wife, he will either leave her or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>forgive her. But in either case, both for the sake of his +own honour and for that of the children—and Strindberg +had several—he will endeavour, as far as possible, to screen +such family affairs from publicity, and will rather lead the +public to suppose the fault is his than call the mother of his +children a harlot before all the world. True, departure from, +this principle is not of itself a symptom of insanity; yet it +must be admitted that it is at least very surprising that a +man should write a book for no other purpose than to accuse +his married wife, the mother of his children, of infidelity.</p> + +<p>Let us, however, consider the grave charges which +Strindberg publicly makes against his wife. From the +moment the woman left her first husband in order to +marry him he becomes suspicious and believes she has +intercourse with other men. He does not suspect any +individual in particular, but every single man with whom +she comes in contact for a long series of years awakens his +doubt and jealousy. Though he is never able to adduce +one single real fact by way of proof, he is yet unceasingly +tortured by the idea of the infidelity of his wife. She not +only has illicit relations with other men, but even extends +her unnatural desires, in <i lang="la">amor lesbicus</i>, to her own sex. She +can not make a call, nor even kiss a young girl, but he believes +he detects an unlawful, sexually contranatural act; +and in his mind’s eye he continually sees his wife in prison +for her infractions of the moral law, etc. In spite of it all, +he loves his wife, and can not leave her. Though he is fully +convinced of her crime and depravity, yet the sight of her +“foot in its black stocking,” or even of her “garter,” is +enough to make him fall at her feet and, “with tears in +his eyes,” implore her pardon. Still the pangs of jealousy +torment him anew. No less than six times he “escapes,” +and that into distant countries. But scarcely is he away +when desire seizes upon him. He is “shackled, not with +chains of iron, which he might break, but with chains of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>India rubber, which draw him back.” He either returns or +has his wife and children follow him. There is a <i lang="de">Wiedersehen</i> +with great emotion, and straightway new pangs of +jealousy. Every waiter in the hotel, the <i lang="fr">concierge</i>, a lieutenant +who comes to the <i lang="fr">table d’hôte</i>, are objects of his wife’s +love. Once he was with his wife in a boat which was managed +by a sailor who wore very high boots. His wife +looked at the boots, and forthwith he was beside himself, +detecting in that look a sexual aberration. The same pangs +of jealousy were excited by any intercourse of his wife with +any female. Thus he describes an old “devilish-looking +person” whom he says his wife hugged and kissed in a +“lustful” way. Once when his wife came to him she +seemed to him to have the face of “that old devil’s dam,” +and he at once concluded that she had been with her, and +had committed illicit acts. Thus, no matter whether it +were man or woman, young or old, ugly or beautiful, in +every living being he detected a partner of his wife’s sin, +and was driven by continual pangs of jealousy into that +desperation in which he wrote the book. It ends with +the words, “This, beloved, is my vengeance.” Such is his +own account. The <i lang="la">audiatur et altera pars</i> may here be dispensed +with. It is a manifest case of jealous insanity. The +image of the disease is, however, essentially completed by +the nature of his description. The satisfaction with which +he speaks of himself, the self-glorification which appears in +all his descriptions, is either one of the signs of mental degeneration +or, what is more probable, there is a delusion of +grandeur. He always speaks of himself as the “great poet,” +the “renowned scholar,” etc. In one place he says that +people are jealous of his great talent, and therefore might +put him out of the way, which is a characteristic manifestation +of the delusion of persecution.</p> + +<p>Among the most important symptoms of such maladies +are the so-called referential ideas. The patients refer all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>that goes on about them to themselves. In every look, in +every harmless remark of a stranger, they fancy they detect +a hidden slight intended for them. Whatever is said in +their hearing they connect with their own individual selves, +and find in the simplest things strong confirmation of their +delusions. If people stand up in a shop, it is because they +are present. If anybody in the street spits, he means to do +it at them. All the articles in the newspaper are meant to +apply to them. In short, everything that happens has reference +to them.</p> + +<p>This symptom is strongly marked throughout Strindberg’s +book. He misunderstands the most harmless remarks +of his wife. In travelling, if anybody speaks to him, +either they do it to mortify him or to make advances to his +wife. The most ordinary counsels of those about him he +takes for cunning traps.</p> + +<p>It would, of course, carry me too far to inquire into all +the particulars set down in this bulky book in reference +to this morbid phenomenon. It may suffice here to mention +one marked example of such referential ideas. When +Strindberg first read Ibsen’s Wild Duck, he immediately +thought the whole piece was intended for him and was only +written on his account. He expresses himself as follows:</p> + +<p>“It was a drama of the famous Norwegian spy, the inventor +of equality madness. How the book fell into my +hands I could not say. But now everything was clear, and +gave occasion to the worst suspicions concerning the reputation +of my wife. The plot of the drama was as follows: A +photographer (a nickname I had earned by my novels +drawn from real life) has married a person of doubtful +repute, who had formerly been the mistress of a great +proprietor. The woman supports the household from a +secret fund which she derives from her former paramour. +In addition to that, she carries on the business of her husband, +a good for nothing who spends his time drinking in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>the society of persons of no consequence. Now, that is a +misrepresentation of the facts committed by the reporters. +They were informed that Maria [Strindberg’s wife] made +translations, but they did not know that it was I who +gratuitously corrected them and paid over to her the sums +received for them.</p> + +<p>“Matters become bad when the poor photographer discovers +that the adored daughter who comes before her +time into the world is not his child, and that the wife has +warned him when she induced him to marry her. To complete +his disgrace, the husband consents to accept a large +sum as indemnity from the former lover. By this I understand +Maria’s loan upon the baron’s security, which I +indorsed after my wedding. But as for the birth of the +daughter, I can see no trace of analogy, for my daughter +was not born until two years after the wedding. But hold! +The dead girl! There, I am on the track! The dead child +which forced us to a marriage which otherwise would not +have taken place!</p> + +<p>“I prepared a great scene for the afternoon. I wished +to catch Maria in cross-examination, to which I wished to +give the form of a defence for us both. We had been +equally attacked by the scarecrow of the masculinists, who +had been paid for the pretty job.”</p> + +<p>This is a perfect example of such a referential idea, than +which nothing more typical can be imagined. Let it be +observed how every detail of Ibsen’s play is made use of +in order to establish a connection with the delusion. I +have therefore no doubt at all that Strindberg was insane. +His malady took a well-known form, called <i lang="la">paranoia +simplex chronica</i>.</p> + +<p>Such patients are, in the true sense of the words, dangerous +to society. Strindberg himself tells how one day, +“without direct occasion,” without being able himself to +account for his act, but following a sudden impulse, he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>fell upon his wife unawares and beat her unmercifully, so +that she only escaped further abuse by the cries of the children, +who came running to her. Immediately after this +conduct he surrendered himself to full sensuous love for +this wife. He remarks himself that it is a peculiar union +in which one drubs his wife by day and enjoys her embraces +at night.</p> + +<p>That a psychiatrical diagnosis is not to be based on +isolated facts, under pain of error, but that the underlying +motives of the suspicious behaviour must be examined most +thoroughly, has been repeatedly said above. I do not +know how I can better render my position clear than by +placing into juxtaposition with the above case, in which I +myself diagnose insanity, one or two others in which I +can not accept such diagnoses. These will illustrate the +extreme errors into which one may be led either by an +insufficient examination or by an arbitrary delimitation of +the latitude of health, and by accepting a definite type as +the normal man.</p> + +<p>That Dante had epileptic fits, is announced by Lombroso +in a recent paper.⁠<a id="FNanchor_129_129" href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> “In the Divina Commedia, Dante himself +describes several fits in which he fell headlong and lost +consciousness.” The passages referred to are two, as follows: +After Charon had driven together the apostates from +God, in order to carry them over the river, and Virgil had +described the terrors which awaited them, Dante says:⁠<a id="FNanchor_130_130" href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a>⁠</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He ceased. The gloomy region shook amain!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still its mere memory bathes with sweat my brow.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rumbled that land of tears with moaning wind;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A light, vermilion-coloured, flashed from hell;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, wholly vanquishing my palsied mind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even as a man whom sleep o’ertakes, I fell.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Parson’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span></p> + +<p>Another passage is as follows:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Meanwhile he moaned so much, compassion took</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My sense away, and like a corse I dropped.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Parson’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Lombroso thinks himself forced by these passages to +diagnose epilepsy in Dante! Are we to take this seriously? +If one of the comic papers had undertaken to parody psychiatry, +how could it have been more extravagant? It +would seem to me almost ludicrous to pay attention to +such assertions and to parley with them. Lombroso, however, +is not only a professor of psychiatry, but he is the +founder of a “school,” and has many adherents, not to say +warm advocates. He is said to be “one of the loftiest mental +phenomena of the century.” He has “poured a veritable +flood of light, which those alone have not perceived +who obdurately close their eyes or who are too shortsighted +to derive benefit from any enlightenment whatsoever.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_131_131" href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Lombroso thinks, then, that Dante, in the verses quoted, +describes an actual state in which he found himself. But +what justifies such a presumption? To be logical, he ought +to take all the other descriptions in the Divina Commedia for +actual events. He ought to suppose that Dante actually +saw and heard everything he describes in hell and in purgatory; +in other words, he ought to consider Dante to be +an hallucinant. Why does he not infer this from such lines +as the following?</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A leopard, glittering in a dappled hide,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That would not flee, though light and full of speed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hindering my way, before me I descried,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And often turned, as doubtful to proceed.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Parson’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span></p> + +<p>On the same principles, we ought here to diagnose +hallucinations, imperative ideas, or consecutive delusion. +Dante addresses this supplication to Virgil:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Behold yon monster in my road, whose rage</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thrills through my veins until my pulses quake;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Defend me from her, thou illustrious sage!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Parson’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Why does not Lombroso infer from the “rage which +thrills through the veins” that Dante had hallucinations of +sensation? All this is inferable by the same logical principle +as the epilepsy. The verses from which he infers +epilepsy only describe the crushing sensations which the +sight of the terrors of hell occasion in him.</p> + +<p>In the Purgatorio, Dante describes three phenomena +which he saw in a dreamlike state.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To the next cornice we had come; here fled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All power of speech, mine eyes were ravished so.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For, seized with ecstasy, I seemed to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rapt in a sudden vision of a crowd</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Met in a temple.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Parson’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Soon as my mind, that from itself had swerved,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came back to true things that outside it lie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I knew my dreams false, but their truth observed.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My leader then, who could perceive that I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Walked like a man by somnolence unnerved,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Said: “Come! what ails thee that thou canst not keep</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy footing straight, but more than half a league</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast moved with faltering steps, as if by sleep</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or wine o’ercome, and eyes that show fatigue?”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Parson’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Lombroso says: “It will be seen that the fits in the Purgatorio +take more of the dreamy, somnambulic cast; those +of the Paradiso more of the ecstatic.” Such a state he infers +from the following:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So steadfast and attentive were mine eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent4">In satisfying their decennial thirst,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">That all my other senses were extinct,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And upon this side and on that they had</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Walls of indifference, so the holy smile</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Drew them into itself with the old net.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Longfellow’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>If from such poetical expressions a somnambulic condition +is presumable, then all poets suffer from that malady. +Not only poets, but all ordinary human beings make use of +expressions equally somnambulic. They say: “I did not +know whether I was on my head or my heels,” “I was +senseless with joy,” “The world swam before my eyes,” “I +saw blood,” “I can give no account of what I did, but when +I came to myself I was miles away.” Just such terms, +clothed in poetic garb, are adduced by Lombroso as evidences +of a somnambulic or ecstatic state. So he quotes +the following:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">At this voice saw I many little flames</div> + <div class="verse indent4">From step to step descending and revolving,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">And every revolution made them fairer.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Round about this one came they and stood still,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">And a cry uttered so loud a sound</div> + <div class="verse indent4">It here could find no parallel, nor I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Distinguished it, the thunder so o’ercame me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So did my mind, among those aliments</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Becoming larger, issue from itself,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">And that which it became can not remember.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Longfellow’s Translation.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">Such are the evidences upon which “Master Lombroso” +rests his thesis that Dante had epilepsy accompanied with +somnambulic and ecstatic states. His disciples say that +only the “obdurate” and the “imbecile” can fail to perceive +the great wisdom of this new doctrine.</p> + +<p>In his chapter on Examples of Insane Genius in his <span lang="it">Genio +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>e Follia</span>, Lombroso adduces Schopenhauer as a case in point. +Let us consider upon what this diagnosis rests. Lombroso +says: “Schopenhauer suffered from melancholy. Dread of +smallpox scared him away from Naples; the idea that he +had used poisoned snuff ousted him from Verona. From +Berlin he fled before the cholera, having once before left +the same capital because of a levy of soldiers.” No evidence +whatever is adduced that Schopenhauer suffered from +melancholia. On the contrary, Schopenhauer had all his +life long an enormous self-conceit, while genuine subjects +of melancholy are marked by the absence of that trait, +considering themselves rather as bad and incapable. Unless +it be proposed to identify an earnest and pessimistic +temperament with melancholy, there is no reason for saying +that Schopenhauer had melancholy. As for timidity about +smallpox, cholera, and the conscription, it is not a symptom of +insanity. Lombroso enlarges upon his great feeling of anxiety, +his fear of men, etc. But these are phenomena found +in all neurasthenic subjects, and are not in the least indicative +of mental disease. “He hated Jews, women, and, +above all, philosophers. Dogs, on the other hand, he loved +so that he remembered them in his will.” If hatred of Jews +is to be taken as a morbid symptom, the world is in a bad +way! Schopenhauer’s hatred of philosophers can readily be +explained. His essay on women is eccentric and passionate. +But is that insanity? Lombroso himself, in his own book +on women,⁠<a id="FNanchor_132_132" href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> has far overtrumped Schopenhauer on this +point; so that he ought to be cautious about considering +misogyny as a morbid symptom. “Everything,” continues +Lombroso, “was for him an object of reflection and of +earnest discussion. He sought after the causes of the most +insignificant things, such as his own excellent appetite, of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>moonlight, etc.” The only peculiarity here is the juxtaposition +of his appetite and moonlight, which is not Schopenhauer’s +doing. Then we read: “He believed in the table +communications of the spiritualists, was convinced that his +dog’s crooked leg could be straightened by magnetism, that +he could recover his hearing in the same way.” I know +nothing about Schopenhauer’s belief in spiritualism. As far +as I know, he wrote nothing about it. Lombroso ought to +elucidate this, and state his authority for the assertion. +But what I do know is that Lombroso himself was so befooled +by a spiritualistic she-swindler that he wrote: “I +heartily repent and am ashamed that I have so stubbornly +contested the spiritualistic facts.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_133_133" href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> There is nothing additional, +except matters which may be called little <em>traits</em> of +character, but are certainly not morbid symptoms. “He +who so often suffered from the intolerance of others, raised +against Moleschott and Büchner the most grievous and unjustifiable +menaces. He hid his joy from nobody when he +learned that they had been forbidden to teach.” Just because +Schopenhauer had suffered so much at the hands of +his adversaries, he became malicious and filled with hate +against them. We further read: “He also considered +himself as the object, as the victim of a widely disseminated +conspiracy of professors of philosophy directed +peculiarly against him, that they had come to an agreement +in Gotha not to mention his works, but to kill them +by silence. On the other hand, he feared that they would +express an opinion on his works.” But this opinion of +Schopenhauer, whether quite true or not, had a sane reason +in the hostile attitude of the university professors toward +him. It would therefore be a great mistake to diagnose +from that a delusion of persecution, especially since the +whole mode of manifestation of the idea had nothing in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>common with a clinical symptom. Thus Lombroso’s data +afford no presumption that Schopenhauer was at any time +mentally diseased, and I can but pronounce the attempt to +range him in the category of insane genius to be distinctly +unsuccessful.</p> + +<p>Nordau, for whom every assertion of Lombroso’s is an +oracle, goes a step further, and pronounces that “the congregation +of Schopenhauer is made up of the degenerate and +insane.” Of the man himself he says: “Imagine a Schopenhauer +who had written no astonishing books, and we should +have before us only a repulsive <i lang="la">lusus naturæ</i>, whose morals +would necessarily exclude him from all respectable society, +and whose fixed idea that he was a victim of persecution +would point him out as a subject for a madhouse.” Now, +quite independently of the gross blunder about the delusion +of persecution, this proposition is psychologically entirely +incorrect. At best it amounts only to this: that had Schopenhauer +not been Schopenhauer, then he would have been +another man than he was. I have shown, in speaking of the +psychology of genius, that the little peculiarities of character +and manners were readily explained by the peculiar +mental action of men of genius. It is therefore illogical, to +say the least, to subtract his genius and leave his peculiarities +as a remainder.</p> + +<p>The special diagnoses that Nordau sets forth from the +writings or art works of famous men are quite of a piece +with his judgment of the population generally, and form a +fit pendant to Lombroso’s diagnosis of the epilepsy of +Dante. But Nordau considerably surpasses the method of +his master. Lombroso limits his efforts to the discovery of +symptoms of insanity, and proceeds according to the well-known +method, “<span lang="de">was nicht herausinterprätiert werden kann, +das wird hineininterprätiert</span>,” or what can not be made out +by exegesis is to be made in by inegesis. Nordau, on the +other hand, is an æsthetic critic. With the professional omniscience +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>of his craft, he criticises whatever falls within the +domains of philosophy, literature, music, and painting, +and as soon as the criticism turns out unfavourable to +the author, down comes the diagnosis of degeneration. +Thereupon, by Lombroso’s method, a list of symptoms +are <i lang="de">hineininterprätiert</i>, or made in, and the justice of the +verdict is beyond all cavil. The boyishness and amateurishness +of such a proceeding need scarcely be pointed out.</p> + +<p>Zola, as everybody knows, is the founder of modern +Naturalism in literature. His “Naturalism” is, however, +not Naturalism in the sense defined above, though perhaps +the definition may agree with his theoretical views. But +practically his Naturalism is that which—in its endeavour to +exhibit life without any sort of falsehood, without ignoring +all that is grievous and base in it, nor pretending that there +is more of the agreeable and the elevated than there really +is—so widely overshoots its mark as to search out the vile +and the degraded. He does not fairly sample human life +upon the average; the characters he paints do not afford a +type of the time in its general character. On the contrary, +all his novels describe the members of one degenerating +family which is subject to extreme deficiencies, mostly of +morals. Upon this aim of Zola’s Nordau pours out the +critic’s bitterest vials, and in fact he flies into a rage with +the founder of Naturalism. “He,” says Nordau, “who +ridicules the ‘idealists’ as being narrators of ‘exceptional +cases,’ of that which ‘never happened,’ has chosen for the +subject of his <i>magnum opus</i> the most exceptional case he +could possibly have found—a group of degenerates, lunatics, +criminals, prostitutes, and ‘mattoids,’ whose morbid nature +places them apart from the species, who do not belong to a +regular society, but are expelled from it, and at strife with +it; who conduct themselves as complete strangers to their +epoch and country, and are, by their manner of existence, +not members of any modern civilized people whatever, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>belong to a horde of primitive wild men of bygone ages.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_134_134" href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> +Does the reader not see against what an enormous and crass +contradiction Mr. Nordau here bumps his head? What! +He who, in most self-sufficient fashion and in his most resonant +chest tones, proclaims that for the last half century +the good society of all civilized countries has been in a +progressive mental dissolution, a state of “putrefaction,” +and that we are now “in the midst of a grave endemic, a +species of black plague of degeneration and hysteria”—<em>he</em> +asserts all at once that the degenerate, the weak-minded, the +criminal, “are the most exceptional case” that could be +found, that degenerates not only belong to no regular society, +but that they only “belong to a horde of primitive +wild men of bygone ages!” Well, well! Why, wherein +does Zola conflict with Nordau? Zola describes a group +of degenerate persons, and, being a naturalist, he is understood +to imply that this is a type, a fair sample, a representative +of a family of our times. Is not this a Nordau +in the shape of a novelist? Nordau’s purpose is to instruct +us that the society of our time is in a state of putrefaction +and that we are in a black plague of degeneration. +Anybody can see that he is Zola dressed up like a scientific +man. But when Nordau looks in the glass and sees his own +caricature grinning him in the face he loses his temper and +declares that such a society, just as he himself had painted +it, is, of all things that exist, “the most exceptional case.” +Nordau, like the witch of the fairy tale, has unwittingly +passed judgment upon himself, and has destroyed his +whole theory with his own hand. But here as everywhere +he exaggerates beyond all bounds. To say that +Zola’s degenerate family naturally belongs to some “horde +of primitive wild men of bygone ages,” is for its inaccuracy +and its screaming tone on a par with his “black +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>plague of degeneration.” Nordau thus takes up a peculiar +attitude, for he declares that “Zola’s novels do not prove +that things are badly managed in this world, but merely +that Zola’s nervous system is out of order”;⁠<a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> and his reason +is that Zola fancies he sees in a degenerate family a +type of modern society, which seems to be precisely what +Nordau himself says.</p> + +<p>But the way in which Nordau, in order to support the +correctness of his diagnosis from Zola’s novels, endeavours +to refer all possible symptoms of insanity to the author is +the most comical thing that ever was. Even Lombroso, +though he is utterly unjustified in using the fancies of +the poet as data, does nevertheless adhere to what Dante’s +language, taken literally, expresses, for Dante does say, +“<em>I</em> fell down,” etc. Nordau, however, without the slightest +reason, identifies the novelist with his quite objectively +described characters. Although Nordau himself finds their +originals in the Karangal family, yet he saddles the author +with all the faults of the degenerate personages of his +novels. Thus he says: “Zola is affected by <i>Coprolalia</i> to +a very high degree.” Coprolalia means an involuntary +utterance of maledictions and vulgar speech. It belongs +to the series of imperative acts and is often observed in +degenerates. Zola himself is adjudged to exhibit this +symptom because he puts curses and dirty language into +the mouths of the degenerates described by him. From +his pictures of prostitutes and narratives of sexual perversities +and exacerbations Nordau, without further information, +concludes that Zola himself is sexually insane. +Because Zola, in his naturalistic endeavour to paint everything +unfalsified, minutely indicates the various smells, Nordau +presumes that he has a morbidly developed sense of +smell. “He shows at times an unhealthy predominance of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>the sensations of smell in his consciousness and a perversion +of the olfactory sense which make the worst odours, especially +those of all human excretions, appear to him particularly +agreeable and sensually stimulating.” “Smellers +among degenerates,” says Nordau, “represent an atavism +going back, not only to the primeval period of man, but infinitely +more remote still, to an epoch anterior to man. +Their atavism retrogrades to animals among whom sexual +activity was directly excited by odoriferous substances, as +it is still at the present day in the musk deer, or who, like the +dog, obtained their knowledge of the world by the action of +their noses.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_135_135" href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a> To this category Zola belongs, because his +novels have many mentions of smells! What should we +come to were we to judge all poets according to this example, +and identify them with their creations?</p> + +<p>A phenomenon, interesting in many respects, which has +given occasion to various psychiatric discussions, is that of +Tolstoi. Both poet and philosopher, he is of most interest +to us in our present inquiry in his quality as philosopher. +Already in early years the writings of Tolstoi displayed, besides +a remarkable gift of graphic description and notable +psychological character study, also a struggle for a metaphysics +which might appease the doubts and contradictions +born in his soul. That civilization which consists in bringing +pleasure and joy to a slender minority at the expense of +the mass of humanity seemed to him worthless, and property +the source of all evils. In The Cossacks and Cholstomêr +he gave expression to these views. Later he became +engrossed with the problem of death—the connection +between being and non-being. In Three Deaths he paints +the disparity between Nature and civilization in respect to +death. The solution of this problem gradually absorbed him +more and more. New doubts continually arose, until he at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>last came to deny every end of life, and suffered, according +to his own narrative, unspeakable anguish about it.</p> + +<p>In My Confession he describes how for a long time he +sought in vain to answer the question, “Wherefore do I +live?” Whatever he undertook, this question pressed forward—“To +what end, and what then?” If at death all +ceases, he asked himself, to what end are we producing and +working? What is the use of being respected and renowned? +“Any day disease and death may come to those +I love and to me, and nothing but putrefaction and worms +will be left. My actions, however great they may be, will all +be forgotten—whether sooner or later is indeed indifferent. +The chief matter is that I will no longer be in existence. +To what end, then, are all these cares? That a man should +see this, and seeing it, go on living, is indeed a matter for +astonishment.”</p> + +<p>Powerfully does he describe his sensations in the following +words:</p> + +<p>“It is now a long, long while since that Oriental tale was +told of the traveller in the desert who is pursued by an animal +that has grown wild. In order to escape it he jumps +into a waterless well, at whose bottom, however, a dragon is +lying, with open jaws, ready to devour him. The unfortunate +man dares not creep out, lest he be torn to pieces by the +savage animal; and he also does not dare to jump down to +the bottom of the well for fear of being devoured by the +dragon. So he remains clinging to the branch of a wild +shrub which has taken root in a rift of the well. But his +hands begin to get tired, and he feels that it will soon be +quite impossible for him to escape the destruction that awaits +him on either hand; nevertheless, he still holds on, but now +sees that two mice—a black one and a white one—are running +about the trunk of the very shrub to which he is clinging +and nibbling it away. Soon—aye, soon!—will the shrub +break off and precipitate him to the bottom of the well into +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>the jaws of the monster. The traveller sees this and knows +full well that he is irrevocably doomed to death; yet, while +he still clings to the shrub, he looks about him and discovers +drops of honey on its leaves. He reaches out to +these with his tongue and licks them.</p> + +<p>“Just in the same way do I hold on to the branch of life. +I know that I can not escape the dragon of death, who is +waiting, ready to rend me, and I can not comprehend why I +have been condemned to this torture. I try to suck the +honey which in earlier years gave me comfort, but it +delights me no longer, and the white and the black mouse +gnaw day and night at the branch to which I am clinging. +I see the dragon quite clearly, and the honey is no longer +sweet on my lips. These alone I do indeed see plainly—the +unavoidable dragon and the mice—and I can not turn +my gaze away from them. This is no fairy tale, but +a real, irrefutable truth which is comprehensible to every +one.</p> + +<p>“The earlier delusion caused by the joys of life, which +made me forget the horror of the dragon, cheats me no +longer. They may say to me as often as they like: ‘You +are not able to comprehend the meaning of life; do not think +about it—live.’ I can not do that any more, because I have +done so indeed too long already. Now, it is no longer possible +for me to avoid seeing the days and the nights which +are hurrying by and carrying me toward death. I see only +this because it is the truth. Everything else is untruth. +Those two drops of honey which more than anything else +diverted my eyes from the horrible truth—the love of my +family and love of writing, which last I called ‘art’—seem +no longer sweet to me.”</p> + +<p>In vain had he endeavoured to gain enlightenment from +science on the question that tormented him, “Wherefore +do I live?” And so he sought to find the solution in life +itself: “And I found that the people of my class have four +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>ways of getting out of this dreadful position in which we all +are situated.</p> + +<p>“The first way out is that of ignorance. It consists in +this: that one does not need to know, does not need to +understand, that life is an evil and devoid of sense. The +persons belonging to this category—who for the most part +are women or very young or stupid men—have not yet +comprehended that question of life which Schopenhauer, +Solomon, and Buddha set before themselves. They see +neither the dragon that is awaiting them nor the mice that +are gnawing at the shrubs to which they are clinging, and +they lick the drops of honey....</p> + +<p>“The second way out is that of the epicurean. It consists +of this: that having come to see the hopelessness of life, +one simply enjoys the good it offers, looking neither at the +dragon nor the mice, and sucks up carefully every drop of +honey, especially if there is a great deal of it....</p> + +<p>“The third way out is that of the strong and energetic. +It consists in destroying life as soon as the knowledge is attained +that life is an evil and devoid of meaning....</p> + +<p>“The fourth way out is that of the weak. It consists in +this: that, in spite of the fact that the evil and its lack of meaning +are comprehended, one does not cease to live, though +knowing that nothing will be attained in the end. The persons +who form this group know that death is better than +life, but lack the courage to act rationally by making an end +of the deception as quickly as possible and taking their own +lives. Yet they act as if they still expected something. +That is the way out of the weak; for why do I not procure +myself the greater good, which I know full well, and which +lies within my grasp?... To this group it was that I belonged.”</p> + +<p>In his further researches, Tolstoi arrived at the conclusion +that “rational knowledge” could only extend to that +which we are in a position to apprehend.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span></p> + +<p>“What did I do when I sought for an answer in the +philosophical sciences? I studied the thoughts of those +who found themselves in the same position as I, but they +had no answer to the question, Wherefore do I live? It is +obvious that I, too, could not learn anything more than +what I already knew—that one is not able to know anything.”</p> + +<p>He came to this conclusion: that “rational knowledge” +can apply only the finite to the finite and the infinite to the +infinite, and that it is therefore impossible to find in “rational +knowledge” any answer to his question. Only the assumption +of something which is beyond our capacity of apprehension, +and therefore not capable of being established by +rational knowledge, can give an answer to his question, and +that something is the joining of the finite with the infinite—faith. +“Thus I inevitably came to see that in addition to +the rational knowledge, which at an earlier time I had considered +to be the only thing, all mankind possesses still another +knowledge, an irrational one—faith, which makes life +possible.” Thus it was that Tolstoi, at the age of fifty-five, +returned to the orthodox Christian faith in which he was +originally trained, and in which he now again found that +calm and contentment after which he hankered.</p> + +<p>Nordau does not agree with Tolstoi’s philosophy, therefore +Tolstoi is a degenerate. Now, unless the conception of +psychical degeneration is to be completely turned upside +down, it can not be assumed that a person can suddenly become +a degenerate in the fifty-fifth year of his life. One +may get an attack of mental disease at any age, but degeneration +means disturbances of development; and therefore if +a person has not manifested any disturbances of this kind +before his fifty-fifth year, he is not a degenerate. If it is to +be assumed that Tolstoi’s views were caused by some diseased +mental process, then it ought to be proved that he +had become mentally diseased, that he had suffered from delusions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>or other phenomena of the same kind, or psychical +disturbances must be found in his whole past life.</p> + +<p>Nordau does none of these things. He contents himself, +in his customary manner, merely with criticising Tolstoi’s +philosophy, and sets up his own infallible, sole, proper metaphysics +in opposition to it, and the degree of deviation from +his opinion defines the degree of the “degeneration” of the +other.</p> + +<p>This is not the place, nor do I feel any special inclination, +to undertake a discussion of Nordau’s philosophy; but, as he +fancies that he sees a symptom of disease in every deviation +from his own opinion, it will be as well for us to consider at +least its principal points.</p> + +<p>Tolstoi was tormented by the question, “Wherefore do +I live?” That is in Nordau’s eyes a sign of degeneration, +for he considers this question a superfluous one, since it can +be answered quite satisfactorily without any special difficulty. +The man who has faith, says Nordau, will have no +occasion to ponder over this question. “The unbeliever, +who is convinced that his life is a particular instance of the +universal life of Nature, that his individuality has blossomed +into existence as a necessary law-governed operation of +eternal, organic forces, knows also very well not only ‘wherefore,’ +but also ‘what for,’ he lives. He lives because, and +as long as, life is to him a source of gratification—that is to +say, of joy and happiness.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_136_136" href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a> According to this view, life +ought to be for all living people a source of joy and happiness, +since, as Nordau says, one lives only so long as this is +the case. But does this view correspond with the facts? +Do not thousands of persons live who have no faith, whose +life is to them anything but a source of joy and happiness? +Any one who really knows the world in which we live will +know that there are thousands of persons devoid of faith +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>whose life gives them nothing but unspeakable suffering, +torments, and misery, and who would yet not voluntarily +leave this world. We often see persons who have been deprived +by incurable and painful disease of every joy and +hope yet clinging to life with every fibre of their being. +Joy and happiness, therefore, are not the causes of our continuing +to live. It is a powerful instinct residing in all living +beings which lies at the root of our clinging to life—the instinct +of self-preservation. This instinct is compounded of +a number of impulses and sensations, such as the impulses to +eat, drink, sleep, etc. It is the satisfying of these impulses, +which in the case of human beings are refined to a high degree, +as we have seen in another place, that forms the joys +of life. The latter, therefore, are only the results of our +continuing to live, and not, as Nordau maintains, its causes, +in which light the instinct alone can be regarded.</p> + +<p>Quite apart from its general incorrectness, therefore, +Nordau’s explanation is no answer to Tolstoi’s question, +“Wherefore do I live?” Our instincts form one cause of +our existence. It is not, however, into this, but into the +aim that Tolstoi inquires. If, nevertheless, the satisfying of +the impulses—that is, the joys—of which Nordau speaks is +considered to be the aim of life, if consequently it is maintained +that we live in order to eat, while we yet eat in order +to live, then one is guilty of a voluntary perversion of +the facts.</p> + +<p>The question as to the aim and meaning of life has occupied +many philosophers before Tolstoi, and will continue, in +spite of Nordau, to be frequently a subject of reflection, and +no symptom of degeneration need be seen therein. Nordau, +of course, according to his well-known method of perverting +and misusing scientific terms, calls this investigation of +the philosopher a “mania of doubt and brooding thought.” +He says: “It is not, then, the noble desire for knowledge +which forces Tolstoi to be ceaselessly occupied with questions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>concerning the aim and meaning of life, but the degenerative +mania of doubt and brooding thought, which +is barren, because no answer, no explanation, can satisfy +them; for it is obvious that be the ‘therefore’ ever so +exhaustive, it can never silence the mechanically impulsive +‘wherefore’ proceeding from the unconscious.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_137_137" href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a> Does +Nordau really consider his “therefore” clear and exhaustive? +That the real mania of doubt of the degenerate +can never be satisfied is perfectly true, but it would be +ridiculous to turn this proposition around and say that every +one who fosters doubts for which he is unable to find any +satisfactory explanation is a degenerate. Besides, Nordau +has here once more defeated his own ends, for Tolstoi did +after all find satisfaction, and that in religious faith.</p> + +<p>I freely concede that it is psychologically a peculiar phenomenon +that any one who has occupied himself so much +with natural sciences as Tolstoi has should suddenly become +an orthodox believer; but if the nature and manner +in which he has come to this do not correspond with a clinical +form of disease, then faith as such does not entitle us in +any way to assume a pathological process. Religious faith +can be reconciled with the metaphysics of the present day, +and is to be considered as a symptom of disease only when +it manifests itself, as in paranoia, as a delusive idea.</p> + +<p>Nordau is an optimist, and therefore declares the whole +system of pessimism in philosophy to be a symptom of disease. +His interpretation of the riddle of life “explains optimism +and pessimism simply as an adequate or inadequate +vitality, as the existence or absence of adaptability, as health +or illness.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_138_138" href="#Footnote_138_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> He overlooks completely the fact that optimism +and pessimism in philosophy are entirely the results +of intellectual action, that it is in an objective manner that +the philosopher attains his conclusions, and that these are +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>independent of his subjective sensation, or exert only a secondary +influence upon it. Schopenhauer, in spite of his pessimism, +desired a long life. What Nordau means, what he +designates as health and disease, refers entirely to subjective +sensation, and therefore to the love of life and weariness +thereof. That philosophical pessimism may in many cases +be the result of a diseased feeling of weariness can be conceded +without further discussion, but this is by no means +invariably the rule, and therefore here also, as always is the +case in psychiatry, there is need of a rigid individualization. +Were Nordau less superficial he would know that subjective +optimism—the love of life—may be just as complete a symptom +of disease as the weariness of life. The power of easy +endurance in the insane paretic who finds himself in a +happy state of mind, and to whom the world appears in its +rosiest aspect, is a classical symptom of this disease. The +weak-minded person whose imbecility prevents him from reflecting +on the seriousness of life, and who is imbued with +a sense of his own importance and greatness, generally feels +himself happy and contented, whereas, as we have seen in +our discussion about the man of genius, great, powerful +minds are just those that are always discontented and dissatisfied. +That optimism and pessimism are to be conceived +of as health and disease, is therefore another of those arbitrary +assertions of Nordau which lack all scientific foundation.</p> + +<p>In his researches into the subject of morality it was especially +modern marriage which occupied Tolstoi, and he +endeavoured to study its nature and right of existence from +all sides. The Kreutzer Sonata, in which he developed +his views upon this point, very soon gained a world-wide +reputation, and gave rise to the most violent discussions and +misunderstandings. The conclusion to be extracted from +this work (which, in fact, has been extracted therefrom) +is that, according to his moral teaching, the destruction of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>the human species should be brought about by absolute continence, +and that mankind should die out with the present +generation. On the strength of this theory there were people +who fancied that they recognised in Tolstoi a sexual psychopath, +and traced to this fact his surprising doctrines. In +consequence of these misunderstandings Tolstoi was induced, +after repeated requests, to explain in a special commentary +what had been his real intention in writing the Kreutzer +Sonata.</p> + +<p>After a detailed examination of matrimonial and extra-matrimonial +sexual intercourse in its sanitary and social relations, +he sets up absolute continence as an ideal worth +striving for. To the objection that in carrying out this +ideal the human race would become extinct he rejoins: +“Apart from the fact that the destruction of the human +race is no new idea for the inhabitants of our world, that it +is in the case of religious persons an article of faith, and in +the case of scientists an inevitable conclusion from the observations +regarding the cooling of the sun, there lies in +this objection a widespread and ancient error. It is said +that if mankind attains the ideal of perfect chastity it destroys +itself, and that therefore this ideal is not a true one. +But those who speak in this way confuse intentionally or +unintentionally two distinct subjects—the direction or precept +and the ideal. Chastity is not a precept or direction, +but an ideal, or a preliminary condition thereto. But +an ideal remains an ideal only so long as its accomplishment +is possible solely in the idea, in the mind, so long +as it appears to be attainable solely in eternity, and consequently +so long as the possibility of an approach thereto +is infinite. Could the ideal be attained (if we can conceive +of its accomplishment), then it would cease to be an +ideal.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly, Tolstoi merely attacks sexual immorality, +and neither this nor his other doctrines of morality, in which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>he preaches the love of one’s neighbour and the equal +rights of all men, contains any new feature.</p> + +<p>In questions of philosophy, of metaphysics and morality, +in which we are still very far from being able to establish +absolute truths, we ought therefore, more than on any other +subject whatever, to practise toleration toward our antagonists. +Every one must be free to criticise his opponent, and +Nordau may say of Tolstoi that his “theory of life, the fruit +of the despairing mental labour of his whole life, is therefore +nothing but a haze, a failure to comprehend his own +questions and answers and hollow verbiage. His ethics—on +which he himself lays a far greater stress than on his +philosophy—is not in much better case than the latter.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_139_139" href="#Footnote_139_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>So long as Nordau confines himself to simple criticism, +freedom must be accorded to him to pass sentence on +Tolstoi. But every one will have the same right with reference +to Nordau’s ethics and metaphysics. To deduct, however, +a condition of disease from a deviation from one’s own +particular opinion is, and must always be, unscientific.</p> + +<p>Many persons would without doubt judge Nordau’s philosophy +and ethics in a similar manner as he does Tolstoi’s. +Take, for example, what he says about marriage: +“Marriage, moreover, was not instituted for the man, but +for the woman and the child. It is a protective social institution +for the benefit of the weaker part. Man has not yet +conquered and humanized his polygamous animal instincts +to the same extent as woman. It would, for the most part, +be quite agreeable to him to exchange the woman he possesses +for a new one.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_140_140" href="#Footnote_140_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> If every one who does not agree +with this view, as well as with very many others of Nordau’s +contentions on this point, is a degenerate, there would +not, I fancy, be many sane persons in this world besides Mr. +Nordau.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span></p> + +<p>If marriage, as he maintains, was instituted, not for the +man, but only for the woman and child; if the man enters +into an agreement for his whole life, not from ideas of self-interest, +but merely from ideas of compassion, and in order +to give “protection” to the “weaker part,” then marriage as +a whole would have neither title nor moral foundation. An +agreement only holds so long as it is founded on legitimate +mutual interests. When these fail, the agreement must be +dissolved, and no power in the world will be able to uphold +it.</p> + +<p>The idea that Nature intended man to be polygamic +but the woman not, is not original with Nordau. It has +been frequently brought forward, and has in later times +found upholders in Hartmann⁠<a id="FNanchor_141_141" href="#Footnote_141_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a> and others. I have never +been able to see in this idea anything beyond an endeavour +to furnish a scientific excuse for the immorality and excesses +of the stronger sex. Even though it should be +assumed that in general the sexual instinct is stronger in +men than in women, would this justify a morality which +permits the man to do what he likes, even to indulge in the +most dissolute debauchery, while the woman, on the contrary, +who lacks the strength even only once to withstand +an impulse, is branded as deeply fallen? Is this the protection +which the “stronger” sex gives to the “weaker”?</p> + +<p>But Nordau’s opinion—that man originally did not have +stronger sexual instincts than the woman, but that he has +“not yet conquered and humanized his polygamous animal +instincts to the same extent as woman”—is certainly new. +Therefore, according to him, the “weak woman,” who requires +the protection of the strong man, stands higher on +the ladder of development than the strong man himself. +What wisdom we do invent to palliate our own weaknesses!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span></p> + +<p>Nordau’s chief fault and error are that he considers +himself justified in drawing a psychiatric conclusion from +his purely subjective criticism of a work of art. The art-critic’s +point of view toward a work of art must be an essentially +different one from that of the psychologist or psychiatrist. +The first merely considers the work as such according +to its value; the latter, on the other hand, seeks to +ascertain from the work of art the psychical processes of +the author. It is evident that to do this it is indispensable +to get at the purpose of the artist or writer which lies at the +root of his work. Nordau, however, exercises criticism +primarily, and troubles himself little about the real purpose +of the writer.</p> + +<p>In the same way he judges, among others, also Ibsen. +The literature with reference to this writer is enormously +large, and opinions about his purpose are very diverse. By +many Ibsen is not generally regarded as a Naturalist, but it +is fancied that in his characters are to be found symbolical +incorporations of poetical and philosophical ideas. That +his later writings, in particular the Master Builder, are to +be regarded in an allegorical light, seems, indeed, pretty +well established. Nordau, however, treats them throughout +as purely naturalistic productions, criticising the individual +characters without at the same time reflecting whether it +was at all the writer’s purpose to describe real characters +taken from life.</p> + +<p>It would carry me too far if I were to indulge here in +further researches as to whether the view Nordau has +adopted regarding Ibsen’s writings corresponds with that +writer’s intention. In any event, Nordau’s psychiatric judgment +of Ibsen is again entirely based on a purely subjective +criticism of his works.</p> + +<p>How important it is for the psychologist and psychiatrist, +in judging a work of art, primarily to ascertain the purpose +of the artist—the motive which lies at the basis of his work—I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>will make clear by an example, which shows to sufficiency +into what errors one may fall when, in forming +psychiatric expert opinions, he confines himself to subjective +criticism of a work of art, instead of investigating the +psychological sources to which it owes its origin. This example +is that of Richard Wagner, who has already given +manifold occasion to psychiatric errors. As this case is instructive +for many reasons, and at the same time of general +interest, I shall investigate it a little more in detail, and +treat of it in a separate chapter.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="RICHARD_WAGNER_AND_PSYCHOPATHOLOGY"> + RICHARD WAGNER AND PSYCHOPATHOLOGY. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It is beyond the scope of this work to give anything like +a connected biography of Wagner, even though it would +conduce largely to a better understanding of our researches. +I must therefore refer the reader to the copious literature +which exists on the subject of Wagner’s life, and especially +to his own statements, in his Gesammelte Schriften und +Dichtungen. I shall confine myself here simply to calling +attention to those points in his life which are requisite for +an explanation of the psychical processes to which his +artistic creations owe their origin. My treatment of the +latter will not aim at anything like an artistic critical study, +but will proceed wholly from a psychological point of view +in so far as may be requisite for the formation of a psychological +analysis.</p> + +<p>Wagner was born at Leipsic on May 22, 1813. His father +is described as a clever and intelligent man, by occupation a +clerk of police, who died as early as November, 1813—that is +to say, half a year after the birth of his son. Shortly afterward +the child’s mother married a friend of her late husband, +Louis Geyer, an actor, painter, and poet, who died when +Wagner was only seven years of age. The latter’s education, +consequently, was chiefly directed by his mother, who devoted +herself to this duty with all love and conscientiousness. +He attended the Dresden school of art and later the Nicolai +school in Leipsic.</p> + +<p>Wagner was no infant prodigy. Yet even at an early +age he gave evidence of a lively fantasy, indulging in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>manifold poetical attempts; but it was not until the period +of his youth that he first displayed any decided talent for +music. It was at the Gewandhaus concerts in Leipsic that +he first came to know Beethoven’s compositions, which +made a strong impression on his youthful mind. With +ardent zeal he buried himself in the study of Beethoven, and +Dorn thus expresses himself with regard to him: “I doubt +whether there has ever been a young composer who was +more conversant with Beethoven’s works than Wagner was +at the age of eighteen.”</p> + +<p>Even in the years of his youth that impulse made itself +felt in Wagner which we have learned to recognise as a +characteristic of great men—the creative impulse. He himself +was perfectly aware of it, and put it in a poetical form +when he said that a fairy had stood beside his cradle and +granted him a gift that is frequently disdained—“The spirit +that is ne’er content, which always thinks of something new.” +This impulse to create was manifested during the period of +Wagner’s artistic development in two different ways. Two +opposing elements struggled in him for the mastery; sometimes +the one gained the upper hand, sometimes the other, +until, tried by this struggle, he followed his true artistic nature +and remained true to it to the end. These two elements +were the impulse to give expression to his artistic sensations +and feelings, which impulse we have found to have been the +guiding principle of all the creations of Goethe, and the +objectively formed craving to create, which was excited from +without.</p> + +<p>After a number of minor attempts in the way of writing +poetry and composing, Wagner put together a libretto called +the Fairies, the idea of which was borrowed from one of +Gozzi’s tales. He says, to be true: “What I constructed +was certainly nothing else than just what I wanted—namely, +a libretto; and I set it to music in accordance with the impressions +that Beethoven, Weber, and Marschner had made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>upon me.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_142_142" href="#Footnote_142_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> But he adds: “And yet, not the suitability for +a libretto which I had discovered in Gozzi’s tale alone drew +me toward it, but the subject itself touched me to the +quick.” In the poetical subject of the fairy who gave up +her immortality that she might possess the man she loved, +Wagner had unconsciously given artistic expression to the +mood within him.</p> + +<p>At the same time an impulse had made itself felt in his +case which perfectly harmonized with his age and the external +influences working upon him—an impulse toward a +brilliant artistic career, an ardent longing for fame and +honour. “An impulse grew within me, amounting in intensity +to a consuming yearning, to rise above the littleness and +wretchedness of the circumstances that controlled me. This +impulse, however, had only a secondary influence on my +actual life itself; primarily, it aimed at a brilliant career as an +artist.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_143_143" href="#Footnote_143_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While in this state of mind Wagner wrote a second +opera—Forbidden Love, or the Novice of Palermo—for which +he had adapted the plot of Shakespeare’s Measure for Measure. +In the summer of 1834 he had accepted the post of +musical director at the theatre of Magdeburg. With reference +to this he says: “My remarkable converse with singers +behind the scenes and before the footlights entirely corresponded +with my inclination toward diverse forms of amusement.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_144_144" href="#Footnote_144_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a> +During this period he completed the composition +of Forbidden Love. His sole purpose was to please, to +win fame and approbation. “For a holiday performance +on New Year’s day, 1835, I hastily prepared some music +which generally pleased. Easily-won successes like this confirmed +me very strongly in the view that, in order to please, +one ought certainly not to consider too scrupulously the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>means at one’s command. And it was upon this principle +that I proceeded with the composition of my Forbidden +Love.”</p> + +<p>We perceive an essential difference between the origin +of the Fairies and that of Forbidden Love. Wagner himself +recognised this, and says on the subject: “If this subject +is compared with that of the Fairies, it will be noticed +that the possibility was open to me to develop myself according +to either of two fundamentally different tendencies; to +the sacred earnestness of my original sentiment there opposed +itself a bold tendency, nourished by the impressions of +my life, toward wild, sensuous impetuosity, toward a saucy +joyousness, which seemed to contradict the former most +emphatically.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_145_145" href="#Footnote_145_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> Farther on he says: “Whoever chooses +to compare this composition with the Fairies will hardly +be able to comprehend how so marked a conversion of tendencies +could be brought about in so short a time. My path +led me in the first instance to utter frivolity in my opinions +about art; this was the case during the first period of my +entry upon the practical career of musical director at the +theatre. The rehearsing and direction of those very pliant +fashionable French operas, the piquant and daring elements +in their orchestral effects, gave me many a childish joy when +I could send them out into the audience from my director’s +desk.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_146_146" href="#Footnote_146_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>In the autumn of 1837 Wagner went to Riga to take the +post of first musical director of the theatre there. Here he +found excellent material for his opera, and applied himself +“with much love to using it.” He composed for the singers +several interpolations for various operas, and also made up +the text for a two-act comic opera, the Happy Bear Family, +the subject of which he had borrowed from a narrative in +the Thousand and One Nights. He had already composed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>one part of this when he became filled with disgust at the +work and turned away from it with aversion. He now determined +“to do something really great—to write an opera, +for the production of which only the most important forces +should be appropriate,” so that he might not be tempted to +bring it before the public in the limited circumstances in +which he happened to be. It should be to him an incentive +to exert himself to the utmost to get out of the conditions +that were so loathsome to him.</p> + +<p>In this state of mind he sketched out the plan of a great +tragic opera in five acts—Rienzi, the Last of the Tribunes—the +material for which he had borrowed from Bulwer Lytton’s +story. He strove in this to create something great and +brilliant, which would satisfy his artistic ambition. “Even +here, in the composition of the text, there was in my mind +really nothing else than to write an effective libretto. The +Grand Opera, with all its scenic and musical splendour, its +effectful, passionate musical fulness, loomed up before me; +and it became the desire of my artistic ambition not merely +to seek to imitate it, but to surpass all it had offered hitherto +with unbounded lavishness.”</p> + +<p>One portion of this opera had already been completed +when Wagner resolved to break with his present life. Without +means, without preparation, without any prospects, he +straightway betook himself from Riga to Paris. During the +sea voyage, which lasted four weeks and in the course of +which he visited the coast of Norway, there recurred to him +the legend of the Flying Dutchman, with which at an earlier +period he had become familiar. This legendary figure now +made a deep impression upon his mind. “He gained spiritual +power from my own peculiar situation; from the storms, +the billows, the rocky northern shore and the activity of the +sailors, he got physiognomy and colour.”</p> + +<p>When Wagner reached Paris and became dazzled by the +brilliancy of its musical world, the figure of the Flying +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>Dutchman was at first blotted out again, and his efforts +seemed once more wholly directed toward the opera that +should make an impression. “When I was present at the +brilliant performances of the Grand Opera, an event, by the +way, which did not happen frequently, a voluptuous, wheedling +warmth mounted up in me, and gave me the wish, the +hope—nay, the certainty—that I would yet be able to triumph +here. This magnificence of accessories, applied with +enthusiastic artistic purpose, seemed to me to be the zenith of +art, and I felt myself not in the least incapable of attaining +this zenith. Moreover, I recollect that I was quite willing to +find inspiration in all phases of that artistic world which appeared +to bear in any way upon my aim; what was meretricious +and unsubstantial was concealed from my sight by a +brilliancy of sensuous externals such as I had never seen +before.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_147_147" href="#Footnote_147_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This mood, this striving after fame and splendour, was +not, however, destined to dominate the soul of the artist for +any length of time, but soon became transformed into a most +profound contempt for this artistic tendency. There arose +in him an unspeakable yearning which he was himself frequently +unable to judge correctly. To this were added the +unfortunate material circumstances in which Wagner happened +to be at that time, which constrained him to grasp at +the humblest means to gain his livelihood. In order to be +introduced by singers into the salons of Paris, he composed +several French romances, declared himself ready to compose +the music for a vulgar vaudeville for one of the theatres +of the boulevards, and finally had to occupy himself with the +arrangement of arias from “favourite operas” for the <i lang="fr">cornet-à-piston</i>. +In these circumstances, the yearning in him assumed +a more and more definite shape; the artistic world with its +brilliancy and glitter, as he now saw it, and the great Parisian +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>opera filled him with disgust and aversion, and from this +moment he longed to leave it all for a dimly perceived ideal +of intelligent affection. While in this state of mind, the Flying +Dutchman again occurred to him. In this mythical +character’s unspeakable longing for unselfish love, Wagner +saw the reflected image of his inmost soul. The “woman” +after whom the Dutchman hankered, and who unselfishly +sacrificed herself for him, represented that ideal human love +of which the artist himself stood in need. “It was this Flying +Dutchman who so repeatedly and with such irresistible +power of attraction sprang up within me out of the quagmires +and billows of my life; it was the first national poem +which made any deep impression on my heart and urged +me, as artist, to interpret and mould it into a work of +art.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_148_148" href="#Footnote_148_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It was in this mood that the poem and music of the Flying +Dutchman were brought into being. Wagner compares +the legend with that of Odysseus longing for his domestic +hearth, and of the Wandering Jew. But in the case of the +Dutchman, the woman he desired was no longer the actually +existing woman at home, but an ideal which did not yet +exist but only was perceived—the ideal of that human love +which sought no recompense. “The yearning of Odysseus +for his home, hearth, and wife had, after having been nurtured +by the sufferings of the Wandering Jew into a desire +for death, been strengthened into the craving after something +new, unknown, not yet visibly present, but already +felt.”</p> + +<p>Wagner fancied that he would be able to find the satisfaction +of his yearning in Germany rather than in Paris, and +while he was busy with the composition of the Flying +Dutchman, the object for which he longed assumed the +shape of home—not the home, of course, that he had left, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>but an ideal home, one still to be expected. “A delicate, +longing patriotism took possession of me, of whose existence +I had hitherto not had the slightest suspicion. This patriotism +was free from all political colouring, for even at that +time I was well aware that political Germany, as opposed in +any way to political France, did not possess for me the least +power of attraction. It was the feeling of homelessness in +Paris that awakened in me the yearning for my German +home; this yearning, however, did not have a reference to +anything that I had known of old, which could be gained +back, but to something felt and desired, new and unknown, +which I was to win for the first time, and about which I only +knew that I would certainly not find it here in Paris. It was +the yearning of my Flying Dutchman for the woman—not, +as I have said, Odysseus’s housewife, but the woman who +brought salvation, whose features did not occur to me in +any definite shape, but who merely hovered before my eyes +as the incarnation of the female element. And this element +assumed the appearance of home—that is, of closest companionship.”</p> + +<p>In the Flying Dutchman that artistic tendency had triumphed +in Wagner which corresponded with his true nature, +and from this time forward he remained true to it to the +last. No longer were splendour and fame the aims of his artistic +creation; art became to him solely a means of expression, +a means of communicating his inmost feelings and +moods, and his only wish was to be understood—that is to +say, to awaken by his art in others the same sensations to +which it owed its origin. It was no longer his aim to gain +admiration and create astonishment. “One thing kept me +up—my art, which was for me a means not for the acquisition +of fame and money, but for the communication of my +views to sensitive hearts.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_149_149" href="#Footnote_149_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a> All his artistic creations were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>henceforth, as it were, the mirror of his soul; his art was +the proclaimer of his inmost sensations.</p> + +<p>Just as we perceived in the case of the objective poet, +Shakespeare, two easily distinguishable factors in the artist +and his work, so we saw in every line of the subjective +Goethe the poet himself in his most intimate personality. +As I have already said in another place, we could not for +this reason love Goethe’s poems without also esteeming in +them the personality of the poet, for poet and artistic work +are there blended into one indissoluble whole. From this +point of view alone was Goethe able to comprehend art, and +he therefore said: “One must be something in order to +make something. It is the personal character of the writer +which makes him important in the eyes of the public, and not +the products of his talent.”</p> + +<p>Wagner had the same experience in this regard as +Goethe; he also is a subjective artist who can not be separated +from his art; every one of his artistic creations also +forms “a fragment of a great confession.” His art forms a +portion of his personality, and is therefore no more separable +from him than speech is from man. He could therefore +hope to be understood only where people felt and experienced +with him, not merely where they were ready to consider +a work of art in an objective manner. They must be +able to penetrate with fullest sympathy into his personal +sensations and moods. Wagner therefore says: “As such +[that is to say, as his friends, by whom alone he could hope +to be understood] I can not, however, regard those who pretend +to love me as an artist and yet think it right to deny +me their sympathy as a man. If the separation of the artist +from the man is something just as unthinkable as the divorce +of the soul from the body, and if it is established that an +artist can never be loved, that his art can never be comprehended +unless he be also (at all events, unconsciously and +involuntarily) loved as a man, and unless his life also be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>understood along with his art, so much the less, as things +are at the present day, and considering the despicably bad +condition of our public artistic conditions, can an artist of +my tendency be loved, and his art consequently be under, +stood, unless this understanding and that possible love be +founded before everything upon sympathy—that is to say, +upon compassion and fellow-feeling with the most human +part of his life.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_150_150" href="#Footnote_150_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a> Wagner was perfectly right in this, +though only with reference to “an artist of his tendency,” +and he agrees in this opinion with Goethe; but we have +seen that there is also an objective art to which this opinion +would not apply. Wagner, however, from his point of +view, could not come to any other judgment; he felt that he +could only be understood in those cases in which people felt +and experienced with him. His art appealed not to the intellect, +but to the feelings. “The artist appeals to the +feelings and not to the intellect; if an answer is given him +from the side of the intellect, it may be said that he has not +been understood, and the criticism amounts in truth to nothing +else than the confession of a lack of understanding of the +work of art, which can only be understood with the feelings.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_151_151" href="#Footnote_151_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Wagner saw, as Goethe expressed it, “the general in the +particular,” and it was in this that his artistic gifts lay. In +giving artistic expression to his own aspirations he unconsciously +touched the feelings of humanity. He felt that he +could only be understood by those who could feel artistically +with him, “who happened to be in a more or less similar +position with the artist, developed under similar conditions of +life, and who could sympathize with him from the bottom of +their nature and heart, so that they were, under certain circumstances, +in a position to assume his view as their own, +and were able to take the required intense interest in the +effort to give them expression.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span></p> + +<p>With a view to giving artistic expression to his feelings, +Wagner felt himself drawn toward a form of art +which permitted him to appeal in the most unlimited manner +possible to the receptive sensations, and this form of art +was the musical drama. Of course this form of art had to +be very different from the opera which had existed up to +this time, so as to be in conformity with the difference between +their respective aims. The aim of the opera of that +day was the satisfaction of the prevailing artistic taste of an +unintelligent mob, the satisfaction of a longing for diversion +and amusement. The opera had to do justice to all these +requirements. The dominating factor of the opera was the +music, to which everything else was subordinate. To create +“fine melodies” was the duty of the composer; the libretto +was a secondary consideration, and sound and word had no +intimate connection with each other. There was no desire +for anything like “sense” in a libretto; the words were +always merely the handmaids of the music, to suit which +they were put together. Just in the same way as the poet +was, so to speak, the train-bearer of the musician, the musician +became the slave of the interpreter. Airs and duets +were composed in order to give the singers the opportunity +of displaying their artistic skill; composers had no hesitation +in writing for particular singers, and in letting them +prescribe the nature of their work, in order to attain as +“powerful an effect” as possible.</p> + +<p>Between productions of this kind and a form of art +whose single aim it was to give expression to the emotions +and feelings of the artist, there must naturally be a fundamental +distinction. In Wagner’s eyes music was nothing +further than a means of expression which in a co-ordinate +manner stood opposed to the other factors of the work as a +whole, of the drama. The meaning of the music begins at +the point where that of the words no longer suffices. Temperaments +and passions may be described in every case by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>the spoken words, but they can not be immediately brought +to expression. Music, on the other hand, is the immediate +proclaimer of the sensations; the words appeal to the intellect, +the music appeals to the feelings.</p> + +<p>Wagner felt very well that he had begun his true artistic +career with the Flying Dutchman. “At that point my +career as a poet begins where I left that of a composer of +librettos.” His works of art originated thereafter no longer +in reflection, but in the impulse to communicate moods that +were present in him. “My treatment was new; it was suggested +to me out of my inmost mood, and forced upon me +by the impulse to communicate this mood. In order to deliver +myself of what was in me—that is to say, in order to +obey the inward pressure to communicate with persons feeling +like me—I had as an artist to enter upon a path that had +certainly not been suggested to me by outward experience, +and that which impels a man hereto is necessity, a deeply felt, +constraining necessity, though one not known to the practical +mind.”</p> + +<p>The Flying Dutchman was finished. The indefinite +yearning of the artist assumed a more and more tangible +form in the longing for home:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis strange, methinks, to give its name</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To every land to which I roam;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But not to find that dearest land</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For which I burn—the land called home.⁠<a id="FNanchor_152_152" href="#Footnote_152_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>It was in this state of mind that Wagner left Paris in the +spring of 1842. Meanwhile his Rienzi had been accepted +for the court theatre at Dresden; the Flying Dutchman was +to be produced at Berlin; the future smiled upon the artist +with rosy serenity, and with happy, joyous heart he set out +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>for home. “For the first time I saw the Rhine, and with +bright tears in my eyes I, poor artist that I was, swore +eternal fidelity to my German Fatherland.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_153_153" href="#Footnote_153_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a> In due +course he reached Dresden, where he was received with +love and sympathy. Rienzi was produced and proved a +brilliant triumph. “After a long struggle amid paltry circumstances,” +so Wagner writes, “after hard-fought battles, +sufferings, and condemnation amid the loveless Parisian +artistic and social life, I quickly found myself in surroundings +that acknowledged me, helped me, and frequently met +me in the most affectionate spirit.”</p> + +<p>Wagner had already been for some time acquainted with +the legend of Tannhäuser through an old book of folk-tales. +On the journey from Paris to Dresden he visited the Wartburg +for the first time, and it was in this way that this legend, +which in the book in question was loosely connected with +the singers’ war, came once more clearly before his eyes. +But in Dresden, where he again took part in the outward +pomp of modern artistic life, this impression gradually faded +away. The extraordinary success of his Rienzi, the veneration +and admiration which fell to his lot, deceived him once +again with respect to the condition of art as it really existed, +and caused him to regard it in an idealistic light. The +post of director of the royal opera at Dresden having at +this time been offered to him, it became perfectly clear +to him that the public life of art did not imply any true +art such as he had learned to know it, but only a “self-interest +which adorned itself with an artistic appearance.” But +the brilliancy of such a post in the eyes of others blinded +him also, and he became director of the royal opera.</p> + +<p>The production of the Flying Dutchman at Berlin had +come to naught; but, in consequence of the great success +which had attended Rienzi, the director of the court theatre +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>of Dresden decided to have the Flying Dutchman also produced. +The opera was quickly rehearsed under Wagner’s +own direction, but fell entirely flat. The public had expected +something like Rienzi, but this “new tendency” +left it perfectly cold and unsympathetic. His Rienzi was +repeated with so much the more enthusiasm, and it must +have been clear to Wagner which path he ought to tread if +he wished to make sure of fame and fortune. Once more +the temptation came to him to be untrue to his real artistic +nature. “The sensuous, luxurious mood,” so he writes, +“which had come upon me by virtue of the complete change +in my external circumstances, and in consequence of the first +enjoyment of an assured position, but especially also of a +certain amount of affection and admiration on the part of the +public, became intensified into a pleasurable self-content, and +soon led me more and more deeply into a misunderstanding +and misuse of my true nature as it had hitherto developed +itself, with its necessary consequences.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_154_154" href="#Footnote_154_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Once again the impulse came to Wagner to write a great, +brilliant opera in the style of Rienzi, and he therefore took +up a scheme which had already been sketched out at an +earlier period, an historical opera in five acts—The Saracens—of +which Manfred, son of the Emperor Frederick II, was +the hero. But this artistic tendency, which was merely calculated +for splendour and effect and was repugnant to his +whole nature, was bound very soon to fill him with aversion +and disgust. He himself describes this internal struggle: +“An impulse, such as in every person impels toward the +immediate present, now determined me, in my special circumstances +as an artist, to a tendency which was bound +again very soon and violently to disgust me. This impulse +would only have been appeased in life if I had also +sought as an artist to aspire to brilliancy and profit by a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>perfect subordination of my true nature to the demands of +the public taste. I would have had to sacrifice myself to +fashion and to playing upon the public’s taste, and here, at +this point, it was clear to my feeling that in actually entering +upon this tendency I would have to come to naught +from sheer disgust.”</p> + +<p>In this state of mind Tannhäuser again presented himself +to Wagner’s soul, in his longing henceforth to get out of the +world of sensuality and pleasure:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There’s more than joy affects my heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Midst my delight I seek for smart;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Far from thy realm I must me hie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Queen! O Goddess! Let me fly!⁠<a id="FNanchor_155_155" href="#Footnote_155_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>He turned from this artistic tendency with aversion, and +became filled with a mighty yearning after satisfaction in a +higher, nobler element, which, in antithesis to the sensual +world of enjoyment that was about him and that strove for +fame and splendour, must appear to him like a “pure, chaste, +maidenly, unapproachable and intangible loving being.” +“How,” thus proceeds Wagner, “could this yearning for +love, the noblest sensation which, taking into consideration +my nature, I could feel, be anything but the craving after +emancipation from the earthly present, after rebirth into an +element of infinite love, such as is not to be found on earth, +but seemed only attainable by death?”</p> + +<p>In this internal struggle his true artist nature had once +again come off victorious. Wagner had on many occasions +called music his “good angel”; now he was freed by it +through the irresistible impulse to truer, more unselfish devotion, +from the sensuous striving after external splendour +and fame. A sublime, unattainable ideal of the most unselfish +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>sacrifice, only tangible in death, hovered before him in +the form of a pure, chaste maiden, and within him sounded +the words of redemption:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">An angel prayed for thee on earth—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All blissful did she soar o’er thee:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elizabeth!⁠<a id="FNanchor_156_156" href="#Footnote_156_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>This was the state of mind to which Tannhäuser owed +its origin. How painfully must it have affected Wagner to +be so entirely misunderstood in his intentions and efforts! +He himself says: “How silly must those critics appear to +me who have become ingenious under the influence of modern +loose living, when they try to impute to my Tannhäuser +a specifically Christian, impotently heavenward tendency!”⁠<a id="FNanchor_157_157" href="#Footnote_157_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The figure of Tannhäuser had sprung from his inmost +soul; in it his true feelings and sensations found artistic +incorporation. He now found himself again on the path of +the only art which was capable of satisfying him, yet felt +that here he must always deny himself fame and splendour. +But he shunned neither struggle nor conflict; the freedom of +his artistic creation was of more value to him than the sensual +pleasures which had surrounded him.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nay, I must off the earth to see,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With thee I can a slave but be;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For liberty I still do crave,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For full free liberty I rave;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To toil and strife I must be near,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though ’tis to die and disappear;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So from thy realm I must me hie—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Queen! O Goddess! Let me fly!⁠<a id="FNanchor_158_158" href="#Footnote_158_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span></p> + +<p>Well did he know what a thorny path he would henceforth +have to traverse, for he says: “In writing this work I +signed my own death warrant. No longer could I now hope +for aught from the modern world of art.” Fully did he feel +the curse of Venus:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy shame will then dishonour breed;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Expelled and cursed, taunts follow thee;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crushed and oppressed I see thee come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy dishonoured head with dust defiled.⁠<a id="FNanchor_159_159" href="#Footnote_159_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Nevertheless, bravely and unhesitatingly he went forward +upon the only path that was possible for him.</p> + +<p>He felt that on this path he would alienate the public and +many friends who had hitherto honoured him; he knew that +he would not be able to offer an adequate substitute for the +amusing and pleasure-giving popular opera of the day; he +recognised that his works were entirely unfitted for the +artistic stage as it then was. Thus he says: “A piece that +is likely to draw good houses, that is likely to be produced +before the public for a lengthy period, or perhaps always, +alternated with other pieces like it, ought not to be derived +from any mood, nor to require for its understanding any +particular mood. For this purpose productions must be +taken that are either based on no mood in particular, or even +on no mood at all, and therefore do not aim to appeal to a +particular mood in the public. They should furnish, by the +splendour of representation, and through the sympathy felt +for the performers, a light form of entertainment.”</p> + +<p>The directory of the court theatre at Dresden decided +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>upon a production of Tannhäuser, which by this time had +been finished. The opera was lavishly mounted, and—met +with the same fate as the Flying Dutchman. The public +was once more disappointed in its expectations, and did not +hesitate to make known its extreme dissatisfaction.</p> + +<p>Wagner was overpowered by a feeling of utter isolation. +He had, indeed, found the means of giving artistic form and +expression to his feelings; he now possessed, indeed, a language +by which he could communicate his sensations, but +there was no one who understood this language, who shared +his sensations, who felt and experienced with him. “I had +now become conscious of my perfect isolation as an artistic +person to such an extent that it was only from this very feeling +of isolation that I could draw the impulse and strength +to endeavor to speak to those around me.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_160_160" href="#Footnote_160_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While in this state of mind there occurred to his fantasy +a legend which he had already studied in connection +with the Tannhäuser saga—that of Lohengrin. In Tannhäuser, +Wagner had swung himself free from a world of +sensuality, of outward brilliancy and vain aspiration; he had +succeeded in soaring aloft to the desired height of purity +and chastity. He had escaped from the world of weak indulgence +to the lonely height of noblest renunciation. But +on this height an inexpressible yearning filled him to get +away from this sunlike brilliancy of chastest purity to the +refreshing warmth of life, to the complete surrender of unselfish +love. He yearned, not to get back to the life which +he had left, but to be in a new ideal life which he had not yet +known. “From this height my longing looks perceived—woman, +the woman for whom the Flying Dutchman yearned +from the ocean depth of his misery; the woman who like a +star of heaven directed Tannhäuser from the dens of sensuality +of the Venusberg to the way upward, and who now +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>drew Lohengrin down from sunny heights to the cherishing +bosom of the earth.”</p> + +<p>Lohengrin did not wish to be looked up to and admired +by the woman whom he went to seek, for whose deliverance +he had been sent; he wished to be loved by her. This love +was not to consist of a trembling adoration of a higher being, +but was to be experienced in the inmost heart; it was to +rest upon a truer, more intelligent devotion. For this it +was necessary that Lohengrin should conceal his higher +origin. For himself alone was Elsa to love him; nor must +she ask who he was or whence he came:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ne’er venture to inquire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor proof from me desire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence I my journey trace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what’s my name and race!⁠<a id="FNanchor_161_161" href="#Footnote_161_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>“Thus he desired the woman—thus the human heart.” +Upon Elsa’s cry for help, which echoed up from the midst +of humanity to his dreary isolation, he came to her aid, and +saw in her the woman for whom he craved. Confidingly she +gave herself up to her brave hero:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Take me! Hero, saviour mine!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All that I am deem thou as thine!⁠<a id="FNanchor_162_162" href="#Footnote_162_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>But soon jealousy and envy set to work, and awaken +doubt and suspicion in the soul of the beloved woman. He +perceives that she adores but does not understand him. The +confession of his origin is forced from him, and he is compelled +to return, crushed in spirit, to the dreariness of his +isolation.</p> + +<p>This is the story of Lohengrin, of which Wagner says: +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>“In the character and the plight of this Lohengrin I now +recognise unmistakably the symbol of the only tragic material, +the only tragic element, in fact, of modern life.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_163_163" href="#Footnote_163_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>He himself felt this tragedy in his inmost soul on the +lonely height upon which he stood, and where he was consumed +by ardent longing. “Here at last I hit the chief +point of what is tragic in the situation of the true artist toward +the life of the present time—the same situation, in truth, +which received from me in Lohengrin its artistic shape. +The most necessary and most natural craving of such an +artist is, to be unreservedly accepted and understood by the +feeling; and the impossibility, caused by our modern artistic +life, of finding this feeling in such a state of ingenuousness +and undoubting trust as he asked—to be understood; the +necessity of having to communicate himself almost wholly +to the critical understanding only, instead of to the feelings—this +is indeed the first tragical element of his situation. +As an artistic person I had to feel this, and it was destined +to affect me in the course of my further development to +such a degree that I finally broke out in open rebellion +against the pressure of this situation.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_164_164" href="#Footnote_164_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Wagner describes how, during the elaboration of the +material, the true nature of Elsa came more and more clearly +before his mind’s eye. He saw in her not a woman filled +with curiosity or jealousy, but “the longed-for complement +of Lohengrin,” which blended with him into one whole, the +“other part of his own nature.” “Elsa is the unconscious, +involuntary element in which the conscious, voluntary nature +of Lohengrin longs to dissolve itself.” The involuntary impulse, +the motive force of his own efforts and creations, Wagner +recognised in this Elsa, before whom “manly egoism +even in its noblest shape had effaced itself totally.” “Elsa, +the woman—the woman whom hitherto I had not understood, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>but whom now I knew—this most necessary incarnation +of the purest sentient involuntariness—has converted me +into a perfect revolutionist. She was the spirit of the people, +the spirit in which I as an artistic person also longed for +my freedom.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_165_165" href="#Footnote_165_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>The home that had been yearned for in the Flying Dutchman, +Wagner had failed to find. He felt a stranger and +alone among those that did not comprehend him. His ideal +sense perceived everywhere the limitations of the human +mind by external circumstances, traditional usages, and convention, +and nowhere did he see that free man who stood +high above the trifling manœuvres of modern life, and for +whom he craved with a glowing desire.</p> + +<p>While in this state of mind he joined—I might say in an +ingenuous manner—the revolution, as he hoped to see his +ideal realized thereby. Thus he says: “From the degrading +yoke of slavery, of general handicraftship, with its pale +soul of money, we will soar up to a free artistic humanity +with its bright universal soul; from wretched, burdened +day-labourers, we will all become beautiful, strong men, to +whom the world belongs as an eternal, inexhaustible source +of highest artistic enjoyment.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_166_166" href="#Footnote_166_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>His rebellion was not directed against a governing power +but against a culture that had gone astray; his wrath was +not a political but a purely human matter which had been +developed by his individual artistic nature. When he had +to fly in consequence of his share in the uprising, he said, +therefore: “With nothing can I compare the agreeable sensation +which, after I had surmounted the first grievous impressions, +pervaded me when I felt myself free—free of the +world’s tormenting, always unfulfilled wishes, free from the +relations in which these wishes had been my only consuming +nourishment! Since no consideration any longer bound +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>me, the outlaw and fugitive, to any falsehood of any kind +whatsoever; since I had thrown behind me every hope, every +expectation from this now triumphant world, and could publicly +and openly shout to it, with the most unconstrained +candidness, that I, the artist, scorned it from the very bottom +of my heart—this world so hypocritical and apprehensive of +art and culture; since I could say to it that not a drop of +really artistic blood flowed in any part of its vital veins, that +it was incapable of pouring out a breath of human civilization, +a whiff of human beauty—I felt myself for the first +time in my life thoroughly and truly free, light, and happy, +even though I might not know where next day I should hide +myself that I might breathe the air of heaven.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_167_167" href="#Footnote_167_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While Wagner’s artistic creations had hitherto sprung +from one single mood, one special situation in life, he was +now impelled, as in the course of time all his sensations and +views had assumed a more and more comprehensible form, +to give to this inner life, these thoughts and feelings, artistic +form in a great work of art. To the idea which +chiefly filled him, the yearning after the free man who had +raised himself above culture and civilization, he had given +expression in his writings in the most various ways. Thus +he says in Art and Revolution:⁠<a id="FNanchor_168_168" href="#Footnote_168_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a> “Nature, human nature, +will lay down the law to the two sisters—culture and civilization: +So far as I am comprehended in you, shall you live +and bloom; so far as I am not in you, shall you die and +wither!” In another passage he says: “The real man will +therefore not come until his life is formed and governed according +to true human nature, and not by arbitrary political +laws.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_169_169" href="#Footnote_169_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a> In Art and Climate he says: “There is no higher +power than that of the communistic man; there is nothing +more lovable than communistic man. Only by the highest +power of love do we, however, attain to true freedom, for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>there is no true freedom except that which is common to all +men.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_170_170" href="#Footnote_170_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>At the time of the Revolution Wagner had already +plunged into the study of German mythology, by which he +felt specially attracted. He says: “In the effort to give +artistic form to the desires of my heart, and in the course of +my earnest investigation as to what attracted me so irresistibly +to the original source of the legends, I advanced step +by step deeper into that antiquity where I was finally to find, +to my unutterable joy, and that, too, right in the highest +antiquity, the youthful, beautiful man in the strongest freshness +of his power. My studies in this way led me through +the poems of the Middle Ages to the very foundation of +ancient German mythology; one vesture after the other, +which later poetry had thrown around it to its disfigurement, +I was able to sever from it so as finally to see it in +its chastest beauty. What I here saw was no longer the +historical conventional figure, whereof the vesture more +than the real form must interest us, but the real fundamental +man, in whom I was able to recognise every pulsation of the +blood, every twitch of the strong muscles, in unconfined +freedom—in short, the true man.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_171_171" href="#Footnote_171_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>This “true, free man” it was who hovered before him as +the ideal after which he yearned. He was filled with an +internal impulse to the artistic realization of the “purely +human being, free from all conventionality.” In Siegfried he +had found this ideal: “Elsa had taught me to find this man; +he was to me the manly incorporation of the eternal involuntariness, +of the doer of real deeds, of the human being in the +fulness of highest, most direct power, and most undoubted +worthiness of love.”</p> + +<p>If, in spite of Wagner’s unmistakable explanations, even +his earlier works were so entirely misunderstood, in which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>only single moods were treated, how much more likely was +his greatest work, into which he entered with all his soul, in +which he incorporated artistically his view of the world, to +give occasion to misunderstandings! If, therefore, I discuss +this work at greater length, I can only point in excuse to the +fact that, as we shall see later on, mistakes and false conceptions +have given rise to the most momentous results. Let +us therefore proceed to a consideration of the trilogy of the +Ring of the Nibelungs.</p> + +<p>The first scene of the Rhinegold shows us the three +Daughters of the Rhine in harmless, playful sport at the +bottom of the river. Alberich approaches them in a wild +passion of sensual love. He tries to overpower them. When +one escapes him he pursues the others. It is all the same +to him which one he overtakes, and that one always appears +to him to be the most beautiful whom he happens to hold in +his embrace. In him we see the representative of that sensuality +which forms the antithesis to ideal, unselfish love. +While he is thus engaged in pursuing the Daughters of the +Rhine, the gold glitters with a strong light and delights +with its splendour the Daughters of the Rhine, who artlessly +hail it. Alberich stands blinded in amazed embarrassment, +and listens to the proclaiming words of the Daughters +of the Rhine:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He gains the world</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As his own inheritance,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who from the Rhinegold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Creates the ring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which measureless might doth bestow.⁠<a id="FNanchor_172_172" href="#Footnote_172_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>It is not in every one’s power, however, to accomplish +this miracle:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Only who Love’s might</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Doth withstand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Only who Love’s joys</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drives away,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">None but he gets the secret power</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The gold to force into a ring.⁠<a id="FNanchor_173_173" href="#Footnote_173_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Now, what is the meaning of this ring, which thus bestows +“measureless might”—nay, the command of the +world? In it we must see the sensuous rendering of that +world from which Tannhäuser yearned to escape, from +which he was saved by Elisabeth—the world of sensual enjoyment, +the striving after outward fame and splendour, the +all-constraining, world-ruling power of gold. That the love +which he must renounce who longed to forge this ring, is not +sexual love, is indicated by the fact that Alberich had a son, +Hagen; it is, on the contrary, that ideal, unselfish impulse, +that self-sacrificing love—Elisabeth.</p> + +<p>The incarnation of sensuality, Alberich, cursed this love, +stole the gold, forged the ring, and won by its means that +measureless might which made him ruler of the world. +Everybody had to create and work for him; his insatiable +cupidity craved ever new treasures and wealth; even his +own brother he held in a “degrading yoke of slavery,” and +compelled him to make that wonderful piece of work, the +Tarnhelm.⁠<a id="FNanchor_174_174" href="#Footnote_174_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>After the ring and the hoard had been stolen from him, +Alberich cursed the gold:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">No joy shall please</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Him who it holds;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Upon no favourite of fortune shall shine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its brilliant light;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who it doth own</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let care devour,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And who has it not,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let envy gnaw!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All shall strive</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For what it brings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet none joy shall reap</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though it is used.⁠<a id="FNanchor_175_175" href="#Footnote_175_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>This curse weighed upon the gold from this time on, +and brought death and ruin on those who possessed it.</p> + +<p>The central figure of the whole action, in which all that +is tragic in the drama is realized, is the mighty form of the +all-governing god Wotan, the father of gods and men. Wagner +writes in an article:⁠<a id="FNanchor_176_176" href="#Footnote_176_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> “In my conception of the Ring +of the Nibelung I had, unknown to myself, confessed the +truth relative to human affairs. Everything here is thoroughly +tragic, and the will which would form a world after +its wish, can finally attain nothing more satisfactory than its +own dignified destruction.” This will, bereft of freedom +and conditioned and bound down by circumstances, is Wotan. +He feels the mighty power within him, yet can not put it +forth. He is bound by stipulations; he must resist his +desire.</p> + +<p>In contradistinction to him, the restless, forward-pressing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>will which always strives after new aims while it denies +itself, stands Erda, the representative of intellectual knowledge. +We meet her first in Rhinegold, when Wotan deliberates +as to whether he shall deliver up the world-governing +ring in order to recover the stolen Freia:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How all was, I know,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How all is,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How all will be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I see too:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Th’ eternal world</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ur-Wala,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Erda puts in your mind.⁠<a id="FNanchor_177_177" href="#Footnote_177_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Erda, true knowledge, sleeps, and in her place watches +Fricka, Wotan’s spouse. In her we have to see the representative +of right based upon pure convention. She protects +the right, not because of its intrinsic value, or because +she has recognised it as such, but because it exists and is +designated as right. She sticks to the letter, and law and +custom are the motives which alone determine her. The +deeper emotions of heart and feeling out of which true +right proceeds are strange to her; she is personified externality, +purely arbitrary formality.</p> + +<p>The second scene of Rhinegold discloses to us Walhalla, +the mighty burg of the gods, raising heavenward its shining +battlements. It signifies the irresistible will power, the +struggle for endless fame. Fricka is anxious and terror-stricken +at sight of the burg. As representative of the law, +of strict right, she first of all bethinks herself of the bargain +that has been made, and of the stipulated reward:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ready is the burg,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The pledge forfeited:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dost thou forget what thou didst give?⁠<a id="FNanchor_178_178" href="#Footnote_178_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>To the restless, onward striving will the bargain suggests +no cause for anxiety. Wotan rejoices at the sight of the +mighty citadel; he breaks the concluded agreement by +which he rules the world, but has to atone for his guilt, +since his will is fettered, bound by law and custom.</p> + +<p>To the giants who built the burg, Wotan had promised +Freia as a reward. Fasolt and Faffner now approach to +claim their reward, the building of the burg being completed. +Freia is the refreshing ideal, that “artistic humanity +with its bright universal soul,” that love which Alberich had +cursed—the unselfish love of human being for human being. +The partaking of her apples, which she proffers to the gods, +gives them everlasting youthful energy. But if they are +withheld from them they shall wither in joyless, fameless +old age. Wotan now recognises his mistake in sacrificing +Freia, and refuses the reward: “I will not sell Freia.”</p> + +<p>While the giants persist in claiming the reward for +which they had bargained, Loge approaches, the representative +of cunning, stratagem, and untruth, who had advised +the agreement. Very characteristic of the signification of +Freia and of the Rhinegold is Loge’s account of how he +sought to replace Freia and finally discovered the Rhinegold.</p> + +<p>Loge’s narrative arouses the cupidity of the giants. They +are ready to renounce Freia if the Rhinegold is given them +in her stead. Very characteristic of the difference between +the Rhinegold and Freia is the scene in which Fasolt and +Faffner exchange her for the hoard. Even the “awkward +giants,” the “rude clowns,” the representatives of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>coarsest materialism, the rough-hewn opposites of delicate +feeling—even they will not sever themselves from the ravishing +woman.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To lose the woman,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be sure, will grieve me sorely:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If then she from my sight must go,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The hoard of metal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Must so be heaped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That from my eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It wholly the fair one conceals!⁠<a id="FNanchor_179_179" href="#Footnote_179_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>With gold he will bury the gentlest higher emotion of +the heart:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas, still shines</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her glance on me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her eye’s bright star</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still lights my way:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through a small crevice</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I must her spy!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do I see the dear delicious eyes.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I can not leave this woman fair.⁠<a id="FNanchor_180_180" href="#Footnote_180_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>So soon as the giants have gained possession of the +hoard, the Tarnhelm, and the ring, the curse of Alberich +becomes fulfilled. Beset by jealousy and envy, they fall to +quarreling, and Fasolt slays Faffner, his own brother. While +the possession of the gold aroused in Alberich primarily lust +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>of power, it manifests itself in Faffner’s case as the mere +naked desire for possession itself. He does not know the +value and the power of what he possesses; he finds delight +merely in the fact that he possesses it. Through dread that +some of it may be stolen from him, he drags his possession +to a cavern, metamorphoses himself by means of the Tarnhelm +into a mighty dragon, and there looks after his treasure +in idle repose. “I lie and hold possession, let me repose,” +are Faffner’s words. If we look around us in our modern +world for Faffners, who seek to possess merely for the sake +of possessing, it will not prove a very difficult task for us to +discover a whole series of them.</p> + +<p>The second part of the drama, the Walkyry, represents +the hot struggle between Wotan, the mighty will which +struggles for freedom, and Fricka, the incarnation of inflexible +law, convention, and custom. Wotan recognises +the bondage of his will, the impossibility of unfolding himself +freely and unhampered:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I who by pact am a lord,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the selfsame pact am now slave.⁠<a id="FNanchor_181_181" href="#Footnote_181_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Eternal knowledge, Erda, had predicted his destruction, +“an ignominious end of the eternal.” He must fear Alberich. +Should he ever be successful in acquiring the ring,</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then would Walhall be lost:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who love did imprecate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He alone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With envy would use</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The runes of the ring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Giving the noble</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Infinite grief.⁠<a id="FNanchor_182_182" href="#Footnote_182_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span></p> + +<p>To defy the foe, to shield himself and Walhalla, Wotan +sent out the Walkyries to bring heroes, who should fight for +him. The Walkyries, Wotan’s daughters, formed a portion +of his personality. They formed the wish for liberty; they +were hostile to Fricka—hostile to her right. Their origin +“in wild love” of itself denotes their opposition to convention +and custom.</p> + +<p>But Fricka still reigns. The Walkyries form only a part +of Wotan; the agreements that bind him they are unable to +break. They, too, must submit to Fricka’s will.</p> + +<p>Wotan is aware that only a free hero, one who starts +up boldly and unhampered, will be able to defy the foe. +Through such a hero he had hoped to attain what he wished. +He betook himself to a noble stock which itself had sprung +from him—the Wälsung. He had thrust a sacred sword +into the trunk of an ash tree in such a way that only the +strongest hero should be able to withdraw it. Siegmund, +the Wälsung, the brave hero, he himself stimulated to the +deed. Siegmund felt in himself the impulse to freedom; +unhampered did his defiant spirit unfold itself. Then he +found Sieglinde, his own sister, in the enemy’s house, married +without love, courted without affection by Hunding. +The deepest love was kindled in the young pair; custom +and law failed to separate them; they followed solely the +true human feeling which moved the inmost recesses of +their hearts.</p> + +<p>How wrongly has this love between Siegmund and Sieglinde +been interpreted! After what has been said before, it +requires no further explanation that here, as in all of Wagner’s +creations, love is merely the symbolical expression of +certain sensations; that it was in no way Wagner’s purpose +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>to glorify in this relationship the impulse of sensual love or +the like, but that the myth was only made use of in an ingenious +way to incorporate artistically that already discussed +antithesis, unfettered human freedom and right based upon +custom and convention.</p> + +<p>Fricka, the inflexible law which deviates not from the +path of tradition, the conventional form, the personified externality, +is horrified at this unequalled delinquency. Wotan, +the will that strives for freedom, can not see anything wrong, +any misdeed in the act:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What deed so bad</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have these twain done,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whom spring united in love?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas affection’s charm</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enraptured them;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why should I blame affection’s might?⁠<a id="FNanchor_183_183" href="#Footnote_183_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Then he continues:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou see’st but one thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I another see,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the first is driven from my sight.⁠<a id="FNanchor_184_184" href="#Footnote_184_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>They are antagonistic principles—the right that is formed +by virtue of interest and convention, and the right that is +based upon a truer, more purely human experience. The +sharply antagonistic elements which are here dealt with, and +are so sharply opposed, one might specially refer to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>moral sphere, and call illegal morality and legal immorality.</p> + +<p>Wotan then proceeds:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Unholy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deem I the oath</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which without love unites;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of me in truth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do not require</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That by force I hold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What doth not cling to thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For where bold powers themselves array,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I must counsel open war.⁠<a id="FNanchor_185_185" href="#Footnote_185_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Fricka knows full well that she must regard the strong, +free hero as her foe; that his triumph means her fall, her +destruction, and she therefore demands of Wotan that he +will deny him his countenance. She gains the day in this +struggle with Wotan, and the latter is compelled to resolve +upon Siegmund’s end. He has to give up his own yearning; +he has to will against his wish:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In my own fetters</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Am I caught:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I, the least free of all!⁠<a id="FNanchor_186_186" href="#Footnote_186_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Such is Wotan’s plaint to Brünhilde, his and Erda’s +daughter.</p> + +<p>In her, the daughter of Will and Knowledge, Wotan sees +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>his own will, formed through knowledge, whose free unfolding, +however, he fears.</p> + +<p>Wotan recognises that in Siegmund he merely sees himself, +his own sword, his own energy, and he therefore determines +upon Siegmund’s death.</p> + +<p>Brünhilde, the daughter of Knowledge, knows that Sieglinde +bears already under her heart the greatest hero:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy wife trust to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On account of the pledge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which blissful from thee she received.⁠<a id="FNanchor_187_187" href="#Footnote_187_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>In her is kindled the struggle between Knowledge and +Will; the latter gets worsted, and she determines to save +Siegmund against the will of Wotan. The fettered will, +Wotan, has to will against his own wish, he has to destroy +with his own hand Siegmund, whom he loves. Against +Wotan’s spear, marked with the runes of the contract, his +sword breaks, and Siegmund falls.</p> + +<p>Wotan’s wrath, however, is only greater, his passion more +headstrong, his fury more savage at the disobedience of +Brünhilde; for he feels only more deeply his own bondage, +his own weakness and impotency.</p> + +<p>Thus Wotan casts off his child. But his heart is softened +and appeased by the prayers of the “brave, noble child.” +He will not yield her up as a prize “to the most cowardly +man for an easy booty”:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A true bridal fire</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall burn now for thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As ne er hitherto for bride it has burned!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let flaming glow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Warm the rock around;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With consuming terror</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let it cowards scare;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Let faint heart avoid</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brünhilde’s rock:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For one alone woos the bride,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who is freer than I, the god!⁠<a id="FNanchor_188_188" href="#Footnote_188_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Brünhilde, Wotan’s glorious child, pure, unalloyed, genuine +Knowledge, is sunk in a deep sleep and awaits the strong, +free hero, who, uninfluenced by law and custom, free from +human tradition, guided only by internal impulse to eternal +perception and true beauty, shall come to awaken her.</p> + +<p>Wotan, however, the fettered will, the denial of the will +to live, resolves upon his end:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Depart, then,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Imperious pride,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of divine splendour</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Braggart disgrace!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Break all together,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What I have built!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My work I renounce;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There’s but one thing still left:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The end——</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The end!—⁠<a id="FNanchor_189_189" href="#Footnote_189_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span></p> + +<p>At this point the tragic element of the drama reaches its +climax; “the will, which would form a world after its own +wish,” finds a fitting destruction. But the world of the +artist could not at the same time attain to a close. Borne on +the wings of an artistic and enthusiastic fantasy, the artist +soars in majestic flight to a height never foreseen. There +he has seen it—the daring, free being “with the bright universal +soul”; he has felt it, felt it deeply. In it Wagner saw +the human ideal. It is the free, uninfluenced human being +who acts according to the circumstances of this world without +being influenced or impelled from without, whose actions +are not conditioned by custom and convention, but who +strives after what is highest and noblest from free inward +stimulus. He only acts according to the dictates of his pure +discernment, his true knowledge, and his stronger will is +able to triumph over all the obstructions of the world.</p> + +<p>Wotan had longed for this hero when he said to Brünhilde:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But one has the power.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which I ne’er had:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A knight, whom to help</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I never inclined;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strange to the god,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Free from his grace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unconsciously,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Without command.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From his own need</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With his own weapon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Performed the act,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which I have to fear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Gainst which I gave no warning.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My only wish e’en wished it.⁠<a id="FNanchor_190_190" href="#Footnote_190_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span></p> + +<p>Siegfried was the brave, happy hero, “the real original, +human being in whom every pulsation of the blood, every +twitch of the energetic muscles, was to be recognised in unconfined, +fresh action”—the true, free human being. The +myth, which makes him one of twins, is here symbolically and +poetically turned to account; even his origin points to absolute +freedom from custom and convention. Siegfried instinctively +recognises in Mime the enemy, the traitor. In +the latter we see incorporated the lowest human passions—envy, +jealousy, and crudest egoism.</p> + +<p>For Siegfried, the strong youth, no glaive was destined, +as had been the father’s case. By his own strength he must +form it, weld together the strong pieces of the divine glaive. +The free man who is independent of conventional morality +can, of course, know no fear. He alone has the courage +and strength and activity to mount to the most beautiful +ideal, to true human freedom. The forging of the sword is +accomplished by Siegfried after a fashion quite counter to +custom and in violation of every ancient rule of the craft, +and his success greatly amazes Mime. The character traits +with whose representatives, Mime and Faffner, we have +made acquaintance, must disappear with the appearance of +the ideal free man. Hence, in the drama, both are destroyed +by Siegfried. With Nothung, the wonderful +glaive, he slays the evil dragon before the grudge hole +(<span lang="de">Neidhöhle</span>). The hoard of the Niebelung, and with it +the Tarnhelm and the ring, now belong to Siegfried. +He regards them, however, as useless toys, and does not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>trouble himself about the properties of that which he possesses:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What use you are to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I do not know.⁠<a id="FNanchor_191_191" href="#Footnote_191_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The beautiful, strong, free man, who is artistically embodied +in Siegfried, seeks in his inner worth alone happiness +and contentment, not in the heaping up of external riches +and goods.</p> + +<p>Siegfried now strides away to the mount that no craven +can approach without being consumed by the blazing fire. +His actions are determined solely by his own will, which +strives continually after what is noble. The restraint of +compacts is foreign to him. He does not, therefore, bow to +the spear of Wotan marked with runes of compact, which is +held in his way, and against which the glaive of the father +was shattered. Wotan is not able to withstand his might; +he shivers the holy spear with Nothung, his glaive welded +by his own strength. All hindrances, even the ocean of +fire, must yield to his power and his will. So the hero, who +“fears not the point of the spear,” advances, strides through +the fire, his strength quenching the flaming glow, and approaches +Brünhilde to awaken her from her long, inactive +sleep. The beautiful, strong, free man, whom the artist +sees in radiant light, awakens the world from long sleep. +True knowledge, pure cognition awakens humanity to holy +bliss. In self-forgetting and self-surrendering love Brünhilde +demands of her lover that he leave her, and that he go out +into the wide world to perform new and lordly deeds.</p> + +<p>We now see the strong, free man in connection with +the bad world, surrounded by plots and jealousy, envy and +malice. In Hagen we recognise the representative of those +properties for which Mime and Alberich previously stood. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>He is the antithesis of Siegfried, and his nature is shown by +his descent. While Siegfried is the issue of a fiery <i>liaison</i> of +love contrary to conventional law, Hagen, the son of Alberich, +owes his existence to a love bought with gold. Hagen +says of himself:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My blood would spoil your drink;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It flows not genuine</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And noble as yours,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stubborn and cold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It curdles in me;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My cheek will not blush,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherefore I remain far</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the fiery bond.⁠<a id="FNanchor_192_192" href="#Footnote_192_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Siegfried, in his intercourse with the bad world, acts +solely in conformity with his inner feelings. He believes +everybody with whom he comes into contact open and true +like himself. Hence all distrust is foreign to him, and he +acts as the moment suggests. This is the signification of +the drink of forgetfulness. Such a naïve, trustful behaviour +must in the wicked world lead to ruin and destruction. Reflection, +cunning calculation, and accurate recognition of the +wickedness of others are the weapons necessary to self-assertion +in the world. Thus Siegfried falls a sacrifice to hate, +cupidity, and envy. He, to whom the slightest false motion +of the heart is an impossibility, and whose soul is of divine +peerage and noblest purity, becomes in the eyes of the +world a criminal. He is accused of perjury, adultery, fraud, +and treason, and intrigue is able to prove its charges and to +require punishment therefor. But the true knowledge—the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>knowledge which, standing without the world, is conditioned +by nothing—Brünhilde recognises the eternal and celestial +faithfulness of him she loves.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Truer than he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Swore no man oath;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">More loyally than he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Held no man his pacts;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Purer than he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loved never another.⁠<a id="FNanchor_193_193" href="#Footnote_193_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">The ring, laden with the curse of the Nibelung, is restored +by Brünhilde to the daughters of the Rhine. The Walhalla, +with the old world of gods, collapses; but Brünhilde, in +radiant accoutrement, bears Siegfried on high upon Grane, +the courageous steed. The strife for outward glitter and +display, for riches and possessions, ceases. The world, +which had been governed by a will bound down to conventional +ideas, collapses; and in its stead the true, free will, +bound to nothing, but associated with pure knowledge and +true recognition, is lord over all.</p> + +<p>No more than Wagner intended in his Tannhäuser to +teach “a specifically Christian, impotently heaven-expecting +moral,” did he in Parsifal, his last artistic creation, have +specifically religious ideas in view. Parsifal has rightly +been called a continuation of the Nibelungen trilogy. That +free hero, who in the trilogy must be overthrown in combating +the wicked world, but whose final victory is there +only intimated, becomes in Parsifal the real saviour of +humanity.</p> + +<p>The wardens of the Holy Grail—the sensuous emblem of +the highest, holiest good of humanity, the human ideal, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>renunciation of the sensual life, greedy for wealth, fame, +and pleasure—were the knights of the Grail, who in the +holy grove in the Gralsburg, or Grail castle, far from the +ignoble impulses of the world, were dedicated to the service +of the Holy Grail. A pure cup of crystal containing the +blood of Christ was intrusted to the care of Amfortas, the +king of the Grail knights. Klingsor, the representative of +the element hostile to the ideal—that is, of selfishness and +lust of power—himself aspired to the possession of the Holy +Grail, not on account of its ideal graciousness, but from self-interest +and cupidity. But it was granted to the pure alone +to find the path to the relic:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye, who their service have attained to</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By paths no sinners ever gained to,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye know ’tis but permitted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The pure to be admitted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Mid those the Grail’s divinely magic power</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With strength for pious work doth dower.⁠<a id="FNanchor_194_194" href="#Footnote_194_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Klingsor, conscious of his incapacity to become the +master of sinful temptations, mutilated himself and so sought +to obtain the Grail:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Unable in himself to stifle thoughts of evil,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Quickly turned he his guilty hand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Resolved to gain the Grail’s command.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But scornfully was by its guardian spurned.⁠<a id="FNanchor_195_195" href="#Footnote_195_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Repulsed by Amfortas, Klingsor built a mighty enchanted +palace in the neighbourhood of the Holy Grail +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>castle, whither he knew how to decoy the knights of the +Grail, and they fell sacrifices to the seductions of sensuality.</p> + +<p>It left Amfortas no peace. He himself sallied forth to +fight the wicked enemy and to free the knights from the +danger, whereupon he himself fell a victim to the seductions +of the crafty one:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">While near the walls from us the king was taken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A woman fair as sin has turned his brain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He lay in transport her enfolding—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The spear escaped his holding;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A deathly cry! I rushed anigh:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But laughing, Klingsor fled before,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sacred spear with him he bore.⁠<a id="FNanchor_196_196" href="#Footnote_196_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>That holy spear, with which Amfortas might have conquered +the enchanter without trouble, had once shed the +blood of Christ. The spear and that holy vessel, the most +precious possession of all, had been conveyed by angels to +Amfortas’s father, the pious Titurel. They were to be +guarded in the holy castle as the holiest of holies—the +highest ideals of humanity. Now Klingsor had succeeded +in purloining the holy spear, and with it had inflicted upon +Amfortas a bad wound, which was never to be healed:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That wound it is, which none may make to close.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Klingsor, being in possession of the mighty and holy +weapon, hoped to exterminate the entire race of knights, +and to get the Holy Grail as well. Sinful humanity, which +found poetic shape in Kundry, is without will power in the +hands of the mighty Klingsor, in the grasp of unconquerable +passions. Kundry must do evil against her wish, against her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>will. She certainly felt within her an impulse to unselfish +conduct, and sought in constant self-sacrifice to throw off +the burden of her selfish propensities; but, driven as by +demoniac power, she is not mistress of her will. When, +struggling with herself, she cries out, “I will not!” Klingsor +answers:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Well wilt thou, for thou must.⁠<a id="FNanchor_197_197" href="#Footnote_197_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The sight of the Holy Grail gives rejuvenated life and +renewed strength to all that are noble and pure; but that +which refreshes and quickens others fills him who is condemned +to guard it with ineffable agony. The pains of the +frightful wound are by the holy lustre exacerbated to insufferable +torments; the conscience laden with guilt can not +bear the contemplation of the highest ideal. In vain Amfortas +seeks means for the alleviation of his pain, for relief +from his torments. There came to him one comforting +prophecy of the Grail:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Before the plundered sanctuary</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In pray’r impassioned lay Amfortas,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Imploring for a sign of safety;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heavenly radiance from the Grail then floated,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sacred phantom face</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From lips divine did chase</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These words, whose purport clearly could be noted:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“By pity lightened,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The guileless fool,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waits for him</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My chosen tool.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_198_198" href="#Footnote_198_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span></p> + +<p>The promised, long-desired redeeming hero, Parsifal, +approached, “by pity knowing, the pure fool.” Solitary, +unskilled in arms, he was attracted to the far desert. As +Siegfried had made his glaive, so had Parsifal himself made +his bow. From his mother he went out into the world, +and fighting made his way. Parsifal naively asks: “They +threatened me; were they bad? Who is good?” He has +not acquired the knowledge of good and evil, he can only +experience them in the depths of his human soul, whence +they can also resound pure and true, without being changed +by the prejudice of a conventional right. His knowledge is +neither erudite nor recondite, but results from the delicacy +and candour of sense and of sentiment. He approaches the +castle and is present when Amfortas uncovers the Holy +Grail. He is deeply seized by all the pains and torments +of the king; except that of the torment of guilt, which +causes those sufferings, he as yet knows nothing. For that +reason Gurnemanz indignantly pushes the “fool” out of the +door, whereupon the latter wends his way to the enchanted +palace of Klingsor. He strikes back with strong arm the +knights who oppose him; and the enticements of the lovely +maidens in the odorous flower garden fail to captivate him. +Kundry approaches in the magical beauty wherewith she +once seduced Amfortas himself, and tries under the ban of +Klingsor all her arts upon the lad. She tells him of his +mother, how she has died from love and care for him. +Then occurs to him what he has undertaken with his life +thus far. In overpowering pain he sinks at the feet of the +seductive woman:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Woe’s me! woe’s me! What did I? Where was I?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mother! Sweetest, dearest mother!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy son, thy son must be thy murderer?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O fool! Weak and frivolous fool!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Where couldst thou have been, thus to forget her?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus—ah! thus to forget thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Faithful, fondest of mothers!⁠<a id="FNanchor_199_199" href="#Footnote_199_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Kundry essays in this way to force an entry to his heart:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To thee now she sends</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Benediction from above,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In this first kiss of love!⁠<a id="FNanchor_200_200" href="#Footnote_200_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>But he starts up in horror, pressing his hand strongly +against his heart:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Amfortas!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The spear wound! the spear wound!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In me I feel it burning.⁠<a id="FNanchor_201_201" href="#Footnote_201_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Unspeakable sympathy with the torments of the king +seizes him; he feels the pains as though they were his own. +By them he knows and recognises the danger of seduction, +which he stoutly withstands. The holy spear which +Klingsor seizes as a last recourse and hurls at him remains +hovering stationary over his head. Parsifal snatches it, and +before the sign of the cross Klingsor’s magical magnificence +decays into nothing. “By pity lightened, the guileless +fool” approaches with the holy spear to bring welfare and +redemption. In the baptism of Kundry he purifies the +world, which lies in the bondage of sensual pleasure, and in +closing with the holy spear the wound of Amfortas, he frees +the world from the torment of conscious guilt. The ideal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span>of humanity, the Holy Grail, which was for a long time +secluded, is unveiled anew, with its radiant lustre reburnished, +its glowing light imparting new life and strength to +its reanimated knights.</p> + +<p>In contrast to the “understanding that is due to fellow-feeling” +stands the schematic, conventional knowledge +based on tradition, sprung from no penetrating warm sympathy +for humanity, but from the frigid letter and egoistic +calculation that strives after an endless accumulation of +stores of knowledge, losing sight of the end of wisdom, +which is the welfare of mankind. In Wagner, the assistant +of Faust, Goethe has scourged this aimless, egotistic, +self-admiring knowledge, which pursues no common +human good:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To study’s toil have I with zeal myself addressed.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I do know much: would I might know the rest!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">Faust, on the other hand, has come to see that true, +serviceable knowledge must owe its origin to sympathy +with mankind. He says:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My bosom, of the science-itch now cured,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Henceforth is closed to no pain that’s endured;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what to all mankind is parcelled out</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I wish with my own heart to know about,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The highest and the lowest Mine to keep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Every man’s weal and woe upon Me heap,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My private self to Man’s great self expand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though I be wrecked, great Man to understand.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>With the exception of two, we have now briefly considered +all of Wagner’s music dramas. The two excepted are +Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg and Tristan und Isolde. +In the former he has humorously painted his own position +in relation to modern art. The first idea of the latter occurred +to him during the musical composition of the Nibelungen-Trilogy. +It impelled him to paint in a drama of his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span>own the ideal unselfish love that he had studied in Siegfried +and Brünhilde.</p> + +<p>Thus Wagner’s poems form a coherent chain, and each of +them may well be termed “a fragment of a great confession.” +His moods and sentiments, vehemently pressing toward +artistic embodiment, formed the spring from which his art +productions sprang. Wagner repeatedly and expressly declares +that his art is merely the mirror of his feelings, and +must therefore be all but exclusively interpreted by heart +and sentiment. Hence we find in Wagner that refinement +and elaboration of the heart-life, those moods often inclining +toward gloom, with which we have been familiarized by the +study of the subjective poets, and in particular of Goethe. +“Heaven-high exulting, to death cast down,” was the temperament +of Wagner likewise. How often he yearned +after death, and believed his only rescue was to be found in +it! Wagner reminds us of those tears that Goethe shed in +reading Hermann und Dorothea, when he tells us how +often “in hot tears” he lamented the unavoidable severance +of Lohengrin from Elsa.⁠<a id="FNanchor_202_202" href="#Footnote_202_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a> Art for Wagner was simply a +means of expression. It was his tongue, in which he endeavoured +to impart himself. Like Goethe, he laughed at +the idea of being considered the founder of a “new school,” +or a “new departure,” or a “new aim.” More than once +he poked sarcastic fun at the new “tendency” that was +ascribed to him. In an essay on Opera-poetry, and in +Particular on Opera-composition,⁠<a id="FNanchor_203_203" href="#Footnote_203_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a> he says: “Not so much +the study of my works as their success seems to have led +many to follow my ‘tendency.’ What this consists of has +remained a mystery to me. Perhaps of a long-continued +preference for mediæval material. The Edda and the rude +North, in general, were regarded as mines of ‘good texts.’ +But the choice and character of the opera texts seem to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>not the only important items of the alleged ‘new departure’; +much else enters into it, especially ‘<i lang="de">Durch Komponieren</i>,’ and +above all the uninterrupted interposition of the orchestra +in the concerns of the singers, a practice which has been +followed the more liberally as a good deal of ‘departure’ +has arisen of late in the instrumentation, harmonization, and +modulation of orchestral compositions.” Interesting is +Wagner’s own description⁠<a id="FNanchor_204_204" href="#Footnote_204_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a> of how music gradually became +a mother tongue to him; of how, in composing, it could not +at all be his purpose to invent beautiful and original melodies +or harmonies, but how he simply expressed in this +tongue what he had to say in the only way in which it could +be expressed. The reader will recollect that, in the discussion +of the psychology of genius, I adduced a saying of +Goethe in which he gives us to understand how indispensable +the gift of verse was to him, since he was governed by +such manifold feelings and moods and could only find repose +and satisfaction in giving them artistic shape. This +impulse to give artistic shape to his sentiments was felt by +Wagner in the same measure, but neither the nature of his +art nor outward circumstances enabled him so easily to see +his artistic creations embodied as those of the simple poet. +A poem, even though its form be dramatic, is a completed +artistic work as soon as it is on paper; but a piece of music, +especially a musical drama, receives life and existence only +when it comes to be performed. Let an artist look upon +his art not as a means of gaining money and fame, but +merely as a means of expressing his sentiments, and if the +means of imparting them be taken from him, as was Wagner’s +case, owing to every imaginable obstacle being put in the +way of the performance of his works, or, worse yet, and still +more discouraging, if his works are arbitrarily altered and +cut, and, owing to a defective understanding of them, performed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>quite disfigured, so that what was originally intended +and felt is quite lost, then it will be quite psychologically +conceivable that he should feel a just resentment +and aversion toward those who, partly from want of understanding +and partly from envy and ill will, deprive him of +what to ordinary men is one of the highest of possessions—human +speech.</p> + +<p>In spite of all the obstacles placed in his path, Wagner +did not let himself be subjugated by pain, because art held +him erect. When he created his greatest work, the Ring of +the Nibelungen, he did not himself believe that he should +ever live to see it performed. It was not his purpose to +gain fame and glory by it, but it afforded him satisfaction +to unburden himself, as it were, by the artistic incorporation +of his ideas, and at any rate to impart them to some +friends, or even only to one. In such mood he wrote to +Liszt: “What I am now creating shall never, or only +under quite suitable circumstances, enter into life. Upon +that I will henceforth unite all my force, and all my pride, +and all my resignation. If I die before these works have +been performed, I bequeath them to you, and if you die +without their having attained a worthy performance, burn +them. That is settled.”</p> + +<p>The impulse to communicate, in some way or other, with +wider circles, as well as material need and cares, drove +Wagner repeatedly into the literary career. Here it is, +from a psychological point of view, of great interest for us +to see how the artist fatigues himself in vain in debating, +from a purely theoretical standpoint, the ideas that filled +him, and how vainly he labours to make himself understood +in a language which is wholly incapable of expressing his +meaning; for the only language of artistic sentiment is art. +Would Beethoven ever have been able to express the sentiments +of the heroic symphony in words?</p> + +<p>Whoever knows the writings of Wagner, especially his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span>larger works on Opera and Drama, The Art of the Future, +etc., will be acquainted with his inflated and often unintelligible +style; will have been offended by the many repetitions +and apparent contradictions; and will, perhaps, have had the +feeling that what the writer wished to communicate has actually +been left unsaid. He did not consider himself by any +means a writer, but wrote with great reluctance, driven by +necessity; and he himself perfectly recognised the cause of +his shortcomings. He knew that what he had to say could be +expressed in one language only—the language of art. Wagner +says: “Here again, and again and again, I have only +been able to express myself through the channel of writing. +What trouble this method of communication gives to me I +need not assure those who know me as an artist. They can +see themselves by the style of the literary works in which I +torture myself to express what I could so tersely, easily, and +gracefully render in art, so soon as its proper sensuous appearance +stood as nearly in my power as its technical notation +with pen on paper. But so odious to me is the whole +literary business, and the necessity which has forced writing +upon me, that I would that with this communication I might +appear for the last time as a <i lang="fr">littérateur</i> before my friends.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_205_205" href="#Footnote_205_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It is not my task here to inquire what the value of +Wagner’s art may be, nor what rank he is destined to take +in the history of art. For us, however, it is important to +ascertain to what psychical processes his works owe their +origin, and what psychical processes they produce.</p> + +<p>The former question finds its solution in the foregoing +considerations. The latter is an affair of observation and +experience. This observation is, however, not always easy; +it is sometimes decidedly difficult. The success of a work of +art, the applause or disapprobation of the public, establishes +but a very limited conclusion in regard to the mood called +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>forth by it. Too many deceptive factors enter into the phenomenon, +to permit us to trust to unconfirmed appearances. +Experience teaches that only posterity, which allows the +work of art to produce its effect unprejudiced and uninfluenced +by personal considerations, is able to decide the question +of the psychical effect. Along with this question posterity +is judge of artistic value. Not theoretical reasons, not +rules and statutes secure to a work of art enduring life, but +solely its psychical effect. If the artist succeeds in exciting +with his work in posterity the intended mood, its value is +fixed. If we wish to-day to account to ourselves for the +beauty of Beethoven’s music, we find nothing more to say +than that it is beautiful because we find it so. We do not +ask the why and wherefore, but surrender ourselves, as +Lohengrin desired Elsa to do, to love and pleasure, without +inquiring for reasons.</p> + +<p>We are to-day the beginning of Wagner’s posterity. +Now that the zealous flame of fanatical Wagnerianism has +died out, and—at any rate in the younger generation—prejudices, +personal motives, envy, and malice have passed +away, the moods and sentiments that Wagner’s music is able +to excite come out more clearly, and it is these alone which +are to give definitive judgment upon the value of this art.</p> + +<p>Wagner himself tells us how he gradually learned to +handle his art as his vernacular language, so as to communicate +his sentiments without impediment. The public, too, +has gradually to learn the language of the artist, and this it +must do, not with the intellect, but with the heart and sentiment. +This circumstance explains many things which will +not escape the close external observer. Most persons who +come to this art unprejudiced declare that the first impression +of a given work is neutral or even repellent; but after +frequent repetition the sentiment becomes greatly augmented, +reaching, it may be, to high enthusiasm. But older +persons, especially those who have grown up in another +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span>definite art departure, can not readily habituate themselves +to the “new departure.” They are in the same situation in +reference to it as they would be toward a new language, as +compared with young persons and children.</p> + +<p>Wagner, in his earlier works, was, so far as outward form +goes, especially in a musical respect, very much under the +influence of the art impressions under which he had grown +up. Gradually and unconsciously his own temper gained +greater and greater relative emphasis, until at last he was +altogether free from external influence, and stood quite upon +his own feet. But the further he departed from the land of +tradition, the harder it necessarily became for the public to +follow him and to learn the new language. Hence his +earlier works, in spite of the antagonisms and difficulties +which even they had to overcome, always had a better reception +from the public, and were more understood, than +his later compositions. Down to Lohengrin he was at all +events followed; but his later works excited a veritable +storm of indignation and opposition.</p> + +<p>It is human nature to condemn whatever is not understood; +and it is only at a late hour, and very often not at all, +that the question occurs, Might not the cause of the want of +understanding be our own incapacity? Had Wagner lived +five hundred years earlier, he might very likely have been +walled up alive or burned as bewitched. But in the nineteenth +century, such proceedings being no longer matters of +regular routine, the modern prescription for making everything +clear that is not understood was applied, and Wagner +was declared to be insane. The rubric was, “Tannhäuser +and Lohengrin are very beautiful; but the later operas are +crazy.” Such was the language of the seventies.</p> + +<p>Of course, such a diagnosis of insanity, based solely upon +the fact that the subject had created works of art which +were unintelligible to the public, was not a professional one. +Nevertheless, the universal cry, “Wagner is insane!” was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>destined to penetrate professional assemblies, until at last +a “specialist in psychiatry” was found who from a scientific +standpoint sought to demonstrate Wagner’s insanity according +to all the rules of the art. This “specialist in psychiatry,” +to use the designation which he expressly assumed, +was Dr. Theodor Puschmann, who in the year 1873 published +a work with this design.⁠<a id="FNanchor_206_206" href="#Footnote_206_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a> He says: “This pamphlet is not +intended to lead up to any preconceived doctrine. We are +not allied to any party, and are not ranged either among the +adherents or the opponents of Richard Wagner. We have +never held any political or artistic relations with him whatever, +and consider ourselves therefore able to preserve the +perfect objectivity of our judgment, which is a prerequisite +to all scientific investigation.” This general proposition is +quite unexceptionable; but is it a fact that Puschmann displays +such objectivity of judgment? Has he limited himself +to making out the psychical processes of Wagner’s mind? +Not at all. On the contrary, he judges of Wagner’s works in +a thoroughly subjective manner, as if he were the final court +of appeal; and then, because Wagner’s art finds no grace in +his eyes, he concludes that Wagner is insane. In short, his +procedure differs in but a single respect from that of a layman—namely, +that he styles himself a “specialist in psychiatry.” +Thus he says: “Apart from some reminiscences of +an earlier period, his later works bear the stamp of mental +mediocrity, hurried imperfection, and a wild raggedness. +The Meistersinger, Tristan und Isolde, Rheingold, etc., do +not in the least attain that mental elevation, that inward nobility, +which was effused upon his earlier works. In both +matter and form, in words and music, they are unbeautiful, +disjointed, and careless. The world has judged them with a +correct instinct. While Lohengrin and Tannhäuser have +won a place in the hearts of the people, his later works are +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>already buried before they have come to life.” Is this what +Dr. Puschmann calls “objectivity”? Is it the business of a +“specialist in psychiatry” to render such a judgment as this +upon a work of art?</p> + +<p>In another place he says: “We have already mentioned +above what poverty of ideas, what increasing mental desolation, +Wagner has shown of late years. All that is beautiful +and great in what he has ever accomplished was devised +and completed before he reached the age of fifty. Since +this time an impotent unproductivity has seized upon him. +His genius is extinct, and has given place to a lamentable +emptiness of mind. His wings are crippled; the heaven-storming +genius has fallen from his shining pinnacle, and, +like a poor, sick, pitiful bird, chattering senseless stuff not to +be understood, picks up the dusty corns that he and others +once rejected.... The long-forgotten ideas of his youth, +fugitive sketches such as a gifted man often produces and +as quickly tosses into the waste-basket as useless, are now +raked out and set forth with a quantity of <i>baroque</i> peculiarities +in words and music which snatch at originality. To +these are added a brain-shattering instrumentation and the +most horrible dissonances; so that, as a connoisseur says, +ear nerves must be thick as cables to go through such noise +undamaged and sound. Along with this is the most unheard-of +prodigality of decoration and machinery, such as +only the extravagant fancy of a madman rioting in transcendentalism +could imagine. And all this Wagner, in his morbid +delusion, declares to be such a work of art as never was, +and exacts of the world that it consider this unnaturalness as +genuine art, and insanity as genius.” I will not “exact” of +the respected reader to hear more of Puschmann’s criticisms. +I can only ask again, Is this the needful “objectivity” +of the “specialist in psychiatry”? Every layman must see +that the diagnosis of the mental condition of an artist has +nothing to do with deciding whether his works are “good” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span>or “bad,” and that the sole business of the psychiatrist is to +ascertain the psychical processes by which those works have +been produced. Supposing that Dr. Puschmann really were +the court of last appeal in reference to the artistic value of +Wagner’s art, and the world had to submit to his judgment +that the Meistersinger and Tristan und Isolde contain nothing +but “brain-shattering noise” and “frightful dissonances,” +would this be a reason for a real psychiatrist to diagnose insanity?</p> + +<p>Puschmann says: “In Tristan und Isolde we find so +many reminiscences of Offenbach’s Belle Hélène that we +might presume an affinity of soul between the two authors.” +Had Herr Puschmann been a “specialist in psychiatry” in +fact, and not merely upon the title-page of his pamphlet, he +would have had no difficulty in conceiving the distinction +between these two states of mind and soul. While we seek +in vain in Puschmann’s mode of passing judgment upon +Wagner’s artistic creations for his boasted “objectivity,” we +find that quality still more distinctly wanting in his mode of +quoting Wagner’s writings and his use of such quotations to +support his assertions. Although he puts the passages between +quotation marks, implying that they are given <i lang="la">verbatim +et literatim</i> and that their genuineness is guaranteed, yet +he alters both matter and form to suit himself. What is the +name of such a proceeding in plain English? And what becomes +of the “objectivity” of this “specialist in psychiatry”? +Without going into details here, I refer the reader +upon this point to a publication which gives the real and +pretended passages from Wagner’s writings in deadly parallels.⁠<a id="FNanchor_207_207" href="#Footnote_207_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>I do not unearth Puschmann’s pamphlet for the sake of +refuting it, for refuted it has been to satiety for twenty years. +Besides, it refutes itself by its contradictions and mendacities. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>But in considering the question of how far a diagnosis +of insanity can properly be based upon a work of art, it lay +in my way to show into what errors one might thus be betrayed, +and to give an example of how a psychiatrist should +not proceed. Puschmann collects a list of morbid symptoms +which Wagner is said to have suddenly manifested, such as +delusion of grandeur, delusion of persecution, moral insanity, +and erotomania. There really is no disease in which such +an abundance of symptoms is suddenly exhibited. But independently +of that, the data upon which Puschmann rests +his “symptoms” are based upon falsehood and error. A +few examples may be given. Referring to the friendship between +King Ludwig and Wagner, Puschmann says: “The +man who was so admired did not use the power which a +piece of good luck had afforded him to help his fellow-men +to do any good, or to produce anything great. He did not +justify the confidence of his royal patron, nor did he fulfil +the hopes which the world of art had built upon his gifted +youth. Sunk in the soft velvet of a palace <i lang="fr">fauteuil</i>, he gave +himself up to the enjoyment of a torpid repose. He basked +comfortably in the adulation which the fame of his past procured +for him, but created nothing more; at least, nothing +of importance after Lohengrin was worthy of a great master.” +This assertion needs no commentary. Whoever is +tolerably familiar with Wagner’s life and works must see its +utter falsity.</p> + +<p>Wagner’s “delusion of grandeur” is described by +Puschmann in the following words: “Herr Wagner suffers +from a self-conceit beyond all bounds and measure, a +vanity and self-boasting truly morbid, which blind him to +the merits of others, and allow him to regard himself as +the sole embodied ideal of the loftiest wisdom and ability. +The greatest masters of his art fade to nullity in his eyes; +the illustrious musicians Mozart, Gluck, and others have no +importance, nor title to mention in the history of culture, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span>except in so far as they may have served as his forerunners; +and even the immortal Beethoven is, at best, nothing +more than an easel upon which can be displayed the full-length +portraiture of ‘the greatest master of all the ages,’ +Richard Wagner.” Whoever has even cast a glance into +Wagner’s writings must recognise the total falsity of this +assertion. The masters mentioned—Beethoven, Mozart, and +Gluck—had no more glowing and enthusiastic worshipper +than Wagner. His candid veneration for them found such +oft-repeated expression in his writings that one is amazed +to find the very contrary opinion thus substituted for his. +In Opera und Drama we read as follows: “And here I indicate +to you again the masterly musician, in whom music +was quite that which it is able to be in man, when quite in +the fulness of its essentiality it is music and nothing else +than music. Look at Mozart!” This is only one among +numberless examples.</p> + +<p>In another place Puschmann says: “But all this was +not enough for his insatiable ambition. The world must +kneel suppliant at his feet, and give him incense like a +god.” These are empty phrases with no basis of truth. +This “specialist in psychiatry” rather incongruously interchanges +“ambition” and “delusion of grandeur.” But that +is no excuse for ascribing to Wagner motives from which +he was unusually exempt. Wagner did not wish to be +“supplicated” or honoured as a higher being; he only +desired to be understood. For that his soul thirsted—for +understanding and sympathy. It would have sufficed to be +understood by some few friends; to the world at large he +was entirely indifferent. He wrote to Liszt: “I feel myself +more than completely recompensed for all my endeavours, +for my operas, and for my art wars, when I see what impression +I have made by them upon you. To be thus +completely understood was my sole desire. To be understood +is the blissful satisfaction of my desire!” This +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>longing to be understood is so natural, and agrees so well +with the psychological <i>cadre</i> of the artist, that the “specialist,” +who should know how to enter into the psychical +processes of the artist, should certainly not take offence +thereat. Equally justifiable and psychologically motived +are the rancour and hatred of the artist for those who, +partly from want of intelligence and partly from personal +resentment, envy, and ill will, work to prevent his being +understood.</p> + +<p>Wagner’s hatred for the Jews, which is set forth by +Puschmann as a “delusion of persecution,” rests simply +upon the fact that Wagner saw in the Jews, especially +those whose endeavours are limited to material gain, men +who had renounced ideal love—in short, his Alberich. This +feeling had no affinity with modern anti-Semitism; for, as +can be seen in his letters to Liszt, along with “the Jews” +he always named “the Philistines,” as he called the Germans +who slept away their lives in slothful dreams, and +were glad if people did not disturb them—in short, the +Faffners. To these two he often added the Jesuits. “Let +us flee from this world, where there are nothing but Jews, +Philistines, and Jesuits.”</p> + +<p>What Wagner longed for was the free, natural man, +whose acts were not determined by petty personal interests +and lower impulses, and whose life was not passed in +thoughtless slumber—that is, Siegfried. There is no delusion +of persecution here; it is only the artist’s ideal. +What characterizes the delusion of persecution is the circumstance +that the patient everywhere scents persecutors, +and in the most unreasonable and typical way regards the +benefits that people do him as hostile persecutions. How +grateful and happy, on the other hand, was Wagner if he +only saw that he was understood, or that anybody sympathized +with him! Thus he wrote to Liszt: “When I +consider the numerous, extended, and often very able +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span>papers which now proceed from Weimar, and contrast +them with the envious hostility which assaulted me, for +example, in the reviews of Dresden, and remember with +what dire consistency they almost effected a systematic +embroiling of the public against me, Weimar seems to me +now as a blissful asylum in whose fresh air I can at last +inhale deeply and give my contracted heart room.” Nobody +suffering from the delusion of persecution writes in +that strain. Such a person would have found in the articles +about Lohengrin some deep-laid plot.</p> + +<p>Wagner’s “hatred for the Jews” is marked only in a +generalized and, I might say, a symbolized sentiment. It +never extended to individuals. In his personal commerce +with men he knew how strictly to individualize, and was +very far from converting his feeling into a principle. The +proof of this is, that he was on terms of friendship with +many Jews. He intrusted the leadership of his play at +the opening of the theatre in Bayreuth to a Jew, which +he certainly would never have done if he had been suffering +under the delusion that he was persecuted by the +Jews.</p> + +<p>Herr Puschmann further thinks that erotomania must be +diagnosed from Wagner’s poems: “His first great <i>opus</i>, <span lang="de">Das +Liebesverbot</span>, glorifies the triumph of free and open sensuality. +Still, he there keeps within the limits of decent respectability. +But in his latest works the erotic element is put +into more undisguised prominence. In Tristan und Isolde +he glorifies ‘adultery,’ in the Walküre ‘incest.’” Whoever +has followed my account of Wagner’s poetry can judge for +himself whether Wagner intends therein to glorify adultery +and incest. He will perceive that in Wagner’s poems the +woman never signifies the physical woman, and that by love +he never means sexual intercourse; that there is merely an +artistic embodiment of ideal sentiments, and that only total +misconstruction can lead to such conclusions as those of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span>Herr Puschmann. Whoever, in spite of all such commentaries, +entertains the slightest doubts upon this point may +set them at rest by a passage in a letter from Wagner to +Liszt. Wagner sent his friend the score of Siegfried after +having concluded not to bring it out for a while, and wrote: +“I now impart to you readily and with good courage this +poem, for now you too no longer need to lift your eyes from +it to consider with careful glance your public. You have, +for example, no longer any need of anxiety as to what those +people shall say of the ‘woman’ who, when ‘woman’ is said, +always think of their wives, or, if their power of abstraction +mounts so high, of some young lady or other.”</p> + +<p>Enough of Herr Puschmann! But let it be added that +this pamphlet of the “specialist in psychiatry,” though it +made a sensation in its day before the public, was never +taken seriously in psychiatric circles, but was always considered +as a thoroughly amateurish production. Twenty +years have since elapsed. Wagnerian art has now spread +over the whole globe, and numbers its adherents by the +hundreds of thousands. Recently another specialist in nervous +diseases, Herr Nordau, has made the weighty discovery +that Wagner was indeed deranged and a degenerate. The +whole of Puschmann’s nonsense, at which every rational +psychiatrist laughed twenty years ago, has been furbished +up anew by Herr Nordau, and put forth as the greatest +wisdom, the newest acquisition of his scientific investigations.</p> + +<p>For the unscientific pamphlet of Puschmann there is an +excuse. At that time, twenty years ago, although Wagner +already had a great number of warm adherents, Puschmann +might still come to the conclusion that upon matter-of-fact +people Wagner’s music made an impression of absurdity; +that it was not capable of exciting an elevated feeling in anybody, +etc. In a word, he voiced the sentiments of the majority +when he assumed that Wagner’s productions were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span>“<i lang="de">verrücktes Zeug</i>”—crazy stuff. But things are different to-day. +Understanding of Wagner’s art is no longer so uncommon, +and on every German opera stage Wagner’s works +take the lead. Not only in Germany has this success been +attained, but far beyond her borders, his renown has pressed. +Even in the New World, in far America, there are thousands +of enthusiastic Wagner lovers. How does Nordau get +away from this fact? Very simply: he says all the world is +“crazy,” or, at any rate, “hysterical.” “Wagner’s mighty influence +on his contemporaries is to be explained neither by +his capacities as author and musician nor by any of his personal +qualities, ... but by the peculiarities in the life of the +present nervous temperament.... He had the good fortune +to endure until the general degeneration and hysteria were +sufficiently advanced to supply a rich and nutritious soil for +his theories and his art.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_208_208" href="#Footnote_208_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>From this, one might think that it were time for publishing +new text-books of psychiatry and instructing students +that there is only one “normal man” in the world—to wit, +Max Nordau. Everybody who writes, composes, or paints +anything that Max Nordau does not take a fancy to, is degenerate; +and everybody who likes anything that Herr +Nordau does not, is hysterical. So long as this platform is +not universally accepted in psychiatry, Herr Nordau can not +expect to find scientific support. But whoever stands upon +the universal ground of science must admit that Herr Nordau +is a perfect amateur in the department of psychiatry. +I can hardly think that anybody, even a layman in psychiatry, +although he be an opponent of Wagner’s art, can possibly +assent to Herr Nordau’s opinions; yet for the sake +of justice, we had better enter upon a brief consideration +of the main points of his deductions.</p> + +<p>Nordau’s diagnosis is as follows: “Richard Wagner is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span>himself alone charged with a greater abundance of degeneration +than all the degenerates put together with whom we +have hitherto become acquainted. The stigmata of this morbid +condition are united in him in the most complete and +most luxuriant development. He displays in the general +constitution of his mind the persecution mania, megalomania, +and mysticism; in his instincts vague philanthropy, anarchism, +a craving for revolt and contradiction; in his writings +all the signs of graphomania—namely, incoherence, fugitive +ideation, and a tendency to idiotic punning; and, as the +groundwork of his being, the characteristic emotionalism of +a colour at once erotic and religiously enthusiastic.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_209_209" href="#Footnote_209_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Very indicative of Nordau’s dilettanteism is his incidental +way of throwing in the most important symptoms of developed +insanity, “delusion of persecution” and “delusion +of grandeur.” As proof of the first, he adduces quite briefly +the trite stories about the Jews, which I have already sufficiently +considered. Of the latter he simply says: “His +megalomania is so well known through his writings, his +verbal utterances, and the whole course of his life, that a +bare reference to it is sufficient.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_210_210" href="#Footnote_210_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a> Nordau evidently does +not know what is meant by a delusive idea; otherwise, he +could not talk so innocently. According to him, everybody +who thinks he is persecuted has a “delusion of persecution,” +and everybody who thinks he can accomplish what nobody +else can has a “delusion of grandeur.” Supposing that +Wagner had really had the degree of self-conceit which is +often attributed to him—which, as I have already shown, is +far from having been the case—supposing it to be true that +he believed himself to be the greatest musician of all the +ages, to conclude from this alone a delusion of grandeur +would be unwarranted in the extreme. Overestimation of +self and the delusion of grandeur are widely different things. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span>One may, for instance, make pretensions to being a thoroughly +expert judge of all departments of art and science—music, +painting, philosophy, and what not—so much so as +to declare that every man who dissents from one’s pronouncements +ought to be cared for as insane; yet this does +not amount to a delusion of grandeur—in the psychiatric +sense of the term. No such sign of overrating himself was +displayed by Wagner. He respected and honoured the +masters of his art as much as any of his contemporaries +ever did. Which one of the great masters of music was the +greatest of all the ages the psychiatrist, as such, is not competent +to say. Whoever it may have been was probably +fully aware of it, and if he ever betrayed that consciousness, +it was not a mark of insanity. But how very far Wagner +was from overestimating himself is shown in his correspondence, +which demonstrates how little he was occupied with +what he had attained, and how entirely with what he had +still to strive for.</p> + +<p>Just as any artist who leaves the well-trodden roads and +breaks new paths is exposed to every imaginable enmity +and misunderstanding, Wagner had to combat persecutions +and hostilities, which, far from being imaginary or delusive, +were so real that it would have been folly to blind himself to +them; and nothing but a rare and precious firmness of character, +and an accurate appreciation of his own inward worth, +could have carried him through all his tribulations to his +eventual triumph.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He left our ruts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But went on steadily and without deviations.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Only psychiatric amateurs—and not the most observant +or wisest of them either—can possibly mistake the self-consciousness +that marks the developed character for a “delusion +of grandeur.” Stories about boundless “vanity,” a passion +for “divine veneration,” “incense,” and so forth—easily +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span>picked up among the valets and secretaries of any great +man—have no foundation but arbitrary distortions or ignorance +of the facts. As I have already proved, Wagner asked +as little from the great public as did Goethe. In his creating +alone, in his art itself, he found satisfaction and contentment. +“Believe me implicitly,” he wrote to Liszt, “when I +tell you that the only reason of my continuing to live as +long as I have done is the irresistible impulse to complete a +series of works of art which yet have the strength to live +within me. I accurately know that nothing but this creation +and completion gratifies me; and as for the performance of +those works and the seeing them from without, that I can +dispense with well enough.”</p> + +<p>The remaining lucubrations of Nordau are limited almost +exclusively to a critique, such as it is, of Wagner’s works, +and are shaped by the principle that whatever Max Nordau +does not like is the work of an insane mind. Wagner’s theoretical +writings, one and all, fail to obtain Nordau’s favour; +therefore Wagner is insane. That Wagner himself recognised +that what he had to say could not be expressed by +words alone, that he saw the inflation of his own style, that +his different writings were composed for special objects, and +finally that Wagner, with the greatest “reluctance” and only +when “driven by need,” betook himself to writing—all this +has little power to bend the inflexible critic. The long and +short of it is that Wagner’s writings do not please Nordau. +Hence it appears that Wagner was a “graphomaniac.” The +trifling contradiction between a man’s being a “graphomaniac” +and his writing with “reluctance” and only when +“driven by need,” is apparent. Graphomania is pretty +nearly the contrary of that. But what difference does that +make? One contradiction more or less is a trifle when one +is as well supplied with them as Herr Nordau. Here is a +sample of Herr Nordau’s manner of employing criticism: +Concerning Wagner’s idea of fusing the different arts into +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_313">[313]</span>one great whole, the musical drama, he says: “His art-work +of the future is the art-work of times long past. What he +takes for evolution is a retrogression, and a return to a +primeval human—nay, to a pre-human [!] stage.” One +wonders what put this notion into Herr Nordau’s head. +Does he really believe that “pre-human” beings composed +musical dramas?</p> + +<p>Wagner, in one of his articles, speaks repeatedly of the +action of the “head” in contradistinction to that of the +“heart.” He calls speech the language of the “head” and +music that of the “heart.” “The organ of the heart is +music (<i lang="de">Ton</i>), and its artistically conscious language is the art +of music.” Every schoolboy can see what is meant. A form +of speech common to all ages and all nations denotes the conative +faculties by the term <i>heart</i>, as opposed to cold, calculating, +speculative understanding—the action of the brain. +But Herr Nordau feels himself called upon to challenge this +figure of speech in the following terms: “But as his mystically +disposed brain was not capable of clearly grasping +the various parts of this intricate idea, and of arranging them +in parallel lines, he entangled himself in the absurdity of an +‘activity of the brain without activity of the heart’; ... +and finally attains to the pure twaddle of calling ‘sound’ the +‘organ of the heart.’”⁠<a id="FNanchor_211_211" href="#Footnote_211_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>We have already remarked that Nordau, in the department +of psychiatry, is a mere amateur; so that we must not +expect any accurate application of the concepts of the science +in his writings. Yet, since he writes upon the subject, +it might have been hoped that he would tolerably post himself +in relation to it, and not publish things in the most injudicious +manner. Now, Herr Nordau assures us that in all +Wagner’s writings there is hardly a single page “which will +not puzzle the unbiassed reader, either through some nonsensical +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_314">[314]</span>thought or some impossible mode of expression”; +whence one has a right to gather that Nordau has read those +writings. But if that be the fact, how was it possible that +he could totally mistake the purpose of Wagner’s art as it +is expressly and distinctly set forth in numerous places in +his writings? Wagner declares in so many words—not +once, but often, very, very often—that by the “woman” he +never meant the physical, sexual woman; that it gave him +pain when anybody attributed a religious moral to Tannhäuser, +etc. But, notwithstanding these explicit declarations, +Herr Nordau sings again the long-worn-out song about the +“shameless sensuality,” and with a bombastic aping of that +scientific jargon which is defensible only so far as it insures +precision of ideas, talks of Wagner’s “erotomania.” Thus +he says in one place: “It certainly redounds to the high +honour of German public morality that Wagner’s operas +could have been publicly performed without arousing the +greatest scandal. How unperverted must wives and maidens +be when they are in a state of mind to witness these +pieces without blushing crimson and sinking into the earth +for shame! How innocent must even husbands and fathers +be who allow their womankind to go to these representations +of ‘lupanar’ incidents! Evidently the German audiences +entertain no misgivings concerning the actions and +attitudes of Wagnerian personages; they seem to have no +suspicion of the emotions by which they are excited, and +what intentions their words, gestures, and acts denote; and +this explains the peaceful artlessness with which these audiences +follow theatrical scenes during which, among a less +childlike public, no one would dare lift his eyes to his neighbour +or endure his glance. With Wagner amorous excitement +assumes the form of mad delirium. The lovers in his +pieces behave like tomcats gone mad, rolling in contortions +and convulsions over a root of valerian. They reflect a state +of mind in the poet which is well known to the professional +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_315">[315]</span>expert. It is a form of Sadism. It is the love of those degenerates +who, in sexual transport, become like wild beasts. +Wagner suffered from ‘erotic madness’ which leads coarse +natures to murder for lust, and inspires ‘higher degenerates’ +with works like Die Walküre, Siegfried, and Tristan +und Isolde.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_212_212" href="#Footnote_212_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>While Nordau passes by the most important symptoms +of insanity, “the delusion of persecution” and “the delusion +of grandeur,” with startling levity, satisfying himself +with mentioning that they are “known to everybody,” he +tarries to discuss with astonishing thoroughness the erotic +element. Let us here adduce only one or two passages: +“Mysticism is, as we know, always accompanied by eroticism, +especially in the degenerate, whose emotionalism has +its chief source in morbidly excited states of the sexual +centres. Wagner’s imagination is perpetually occupied +with woman. But he never sees her relation to man in the +form of healthy and natural love, which is a benefit and +satisfaction for both lovers. As with all morbid erotics (we +have already remarked this in Verlaine and Tolstoi), woman +presents herself to him as a terrible force of Nature, of which +man is the trembling, helpless victim. The woman that he +knows is the gruesome Astarte of the Semites, the frightful +man-eating Kali Bhagawati of the Hindoos, an apocalyptic +vision of smiling bloodthirstiness, of eternal perdition and +infernal torment, in demoniacally beautiful embodiment.... +Wagner’s Elisabeth, Elsa, Senta, and Gertrude are extremely +instructive manifestations of erotic mysticism, in +which the half-unconscious idea is struggling for form—viz., +that the safety of the sexually crazy degenerate lies in +purity, continence, or in the possession of a wife having no +sort of individuality, no desire and no rights, and hence incapable +of ever proving dangerous to the man. In one of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_316">[316]</span>his first compositions, as in his last, in Tannhäuser as in +Parsifal, he treats of the combat between the man and his +corruptress, the fly <i>versus</i> the spider, and in this way testifies +that for thirty-three years—from youth to old age—the +subject has never been absent from his mind.... Siegfried, +Götterdämmerung, Tristan und Isolde, are exact repetitions +of the essential content of the Walküre. It is always the +dramatic embodiment of the same obsession of the terrors +of love.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_213_213" href="#Footnote_213_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>These passages may suffice. At best, they bespeak at +once Nordau’s total misunderstanding of Wagner’s artistic +purpose, and his complete dilettanteism in psychiatric matters. +Of the former truth, scarcely anybody who does not +with might and main shut out the facts and is not ignorant of +Wagner’s own declarations, can be in doubt. Whoever still +insists, after the observations made above, that Wagner, in +the creation of his works of art, was thinking of the sensual, +sexual woman, simply will not understand; and there is no +help for it. As to the latter point, that a man who his whole +life long never showed the slightest indication of sexual +anomalies, who lived in happy marriage and was a tender +husband and father, should be called an “erotomaniac” solely +because love is introduced into his dramas, and that “a morbid +state of excitation of his sexual centres” should be +diagnosed, is the grossest and sheerest nonsense that ever +was. There is scarcely a poet in the whole history of art +whom one might not by the same token stamp as an “erotomaniac.”</p> + +<p>Herr Nordau might by the same right just as well have +diagnosed a number of other symptoms from Wagner’s +poems. Why, for example, does the great musician not suffer +from pyromania on the ground of the magic fire in the +Walküre? Why does Nordau not declare him a kleptomaniac, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_317">[317]</span>in view of the numerous thefts in Rheingold? +There would have been quite as much sense in either +diagnosis as in that of erotomania from Tannhäuser. Perhaps +Herr Nordau has overlooked these symptoms, and perhaps +he will do us the pleasure, in the next edition of his +Degeneration, of dishing these up as the latest achievements +of his scientific researches.</p> + +<p>Nordau has made the important discovery that Wagner +was born to be a painter, and only missed his vocation in +consequence of his morbid impulses. “Wagner is no +comedian,” he says, “but a born painter. If he had been a +healthy genius, endowed with intellectual equilibrium, that +is what he would undoubtedly have become. His inner +vision would have forced the brush into his hand, and constrained +him to realize it on canvas, by means of colour.... +He did not understand his natural impulses. Perhaps, also, +with the feeling of his own deep organic feebleness, he +dreaded the heavy labour of drawing and painting, and, +conformably with the law of least effort, his instinct sought +vent in the theatre, where his inner visions were embodied +by others—the decorative painters, machinists, and actors—without +requiring him to exert himself.” Did anybody +ever hear more luxuriant nonsense? A man who thinks the +labour of painting too severe, takes up the musical drama, +composing himself both the verse and the music, and thus +escapes hard work! Is it possible to make a serious answer +to such silly talk?</p> + +<p>Equally astounding is the self-complacency with which +Nordau passes judgment upon Wagner’s music. I, too, am +of the opinion that the judgment of art, especially of those +arts which appeal to the sensitive heart, is not only open to +the theorizing professional, but that the direct sentiment of +the unprejudiced layman ought to be its touchstone. Wagner +himself gives expression to this thought in the Meistersinger, +where Hans Sachs says:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_318">[318]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet once a year I should think it wise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That the rules themselves should be tested</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whether in custom’s stupid rut</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your force and life ye were not losing:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now whether ye of Nature</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be yet upon the right track</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can tell you only</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He who knows nothing of tabulature.⁠<a id="FNanchor_214_214" href="#Footnote_214_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>But when a person who “knows nothing of the rules of +the mastersingers” declares both the judgment of an innumerable +multitude of experienced masters and the sentiment +of hundreds of thousands to be “morbid,” solely because he +himself thinks and feels otherwise than they, he only pronounces +judgment upon himself.</p> + +<p>It is well known that Wagner revolutionized the form of +opera music. He banished the disconnected interpolated +arias, put a stop to the inartistic license of singers in the +<i lang="it">recitativo</i>, introduced a continuous music corresponding +to the dramatical treatment and idea, and endeavoured +through this music to express that for which the spoken +word was inadequate. Of this innovation Nordau says: +“It is a product of degenerate thought; it is musical mysticism. +It is the form in which incapacity for attention +shows itself in music.” After having, in the remainder of +his criticism, illuminated in a similar way the theory of +Wagner’s music, the <i lang="de">Leitmotive</i>, the “unending melody,” +etc., he reaches the conclusion that Wagner, “in the inmost +depths of his nature, and by virtue of his organic constitution, +was not a musician, but a confused mixture of a poet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_319">[319]</span>feeble in style and a painter lazy of brush, with a Javanese +‘Gamelang’ accompaniment buzzing in between.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_215_215" href="#Footnote_215_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>Concerning the theory of Wagner’s art, others may dispute +with Nordau, if it seems worth their while. But as +to the psychiatric lucubrations by which he reaches the +conclusion that Wagner was insane and a “degenerate,” I +believe that I have characterized them sufficiently, and +that I may spare myself a more minute examination +thereof.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_320">[320]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONCLUSION"> + CONCLUSION. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The idea of a universal sickening of the people, of a progressive +“degeneration” of the civilized nations, has not +merely a few defenders, such as those mentioned in this work. +This departure of modern science has found a multitude of +adherents, and the advocates of this doctrine have made the +concept of degeneration a subject of general popular interest. +Beginning with this departure of psychopathology, the doctrine +of a gradual retrogression of mankind, a deterioration, +generation by generation, of the highly civilized peoples, +has extended more and more. Not only in certain professional +circles, but even in the educated lay world, we +hear of a universal derangement of the nervous system, of +a widespread nervous prostration, of mental and bodily +deterioration of the present generation as compared with +our ancestors.</p> + +<p>Art and literature, which have ever expressed the metaphysics +of the period, and which consequently now correspond +in form and meaning to modern positivism, show +of late a decided leaning toward the depicting of degenerative +defects of humanity, especially of insanity, as +if they were a characteristic of modern society. Although, +from the time of Homer to our own, insanity has never +dropped from the list of subjects for artistic and poetical +treatment, yet each age has had its own reasons for doing +so, which have always been closely connected with contemporary +metaphysics. In the hallucinatory melancholia +of Orestes, Æschylus painted the rage of the Furies following +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_321">[321]</span>and tormenting their victim: “Behold them, like Gorgons +clothed in black, surrounded by the coils of many +serpents.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_216_216" href="#Footnote_216_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a> In Ajax Fureus, who, suddenly seized with a +somnambulic delirium, falls upon the herds of the Achæans +and strangles them with their herdsmen, believing that he +is killing the princes of the host, Sophocles exhibits the +chastening hand of Athene, against whom this bold mortal +had once risen in audacious defiance. The ancient poets +thus painted mental derangements which obviously they +had observed, and painted them in the colouring of mythology, +which was the popular metaphysics of that age, +as a dispensation of a higher power, a punishment of the +angry divinity.</p> + +<p>The multitudinous artistic representations of demoniac +possession in the Middle Ages, in myriads of paintings, +frescoes, reliefs, carvings in stone, wood, and ivory, bronzes, +ironwork, goldsmith’s-work, etc., the manifold scenes of +conjurations and diabolic incitements, afford a clear picture +of the insanity of those times. According to Charcot and +Richer,⁠<a id="FNanchor_217_217" href="#Footnote_217_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a> whom we have to thank for their thorough researches +in this field, the dislocations and distortions of +those possessed are quite typical of cases of disease that +may be observed to-day.</p> + +<p>The first poet who recognised insanity as a disease and +painted it as such is Shakespeare, whose fine power of observation +far outstripped his age. He who could paint the +world in all its truth and reality, who was able to reproduce +the most diverse characters, unfalsified and true to +Nature, succeeded also in painting in a masterly way mental +derangements in all their typical phenomena, just as we +observe them to-day, and this at a time at which science +was far from a correct recognition of psychical disorders. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_322">[322]</span>In Shakespeare, the derangements of King Lear, Hamlet, +and Lady Macbeth are photographic reproductions of pure +objective experience. They fill out certainly the world of +the poet who painted all human passions with minute fidelity +in his plays, and therefore undertook also to paint according +to his observation the human mind under morbid +obscuration. In these characters, therefore, we have +neither the embodiment of any particular conception of +the universe nor an artistic dressing up of any moral or +doctrine.</p> + +<p>It is very different with the portraiture of insanity in our +modern literature. The doctrine of psychiatry has in the +interval grown into a distinct branch of science, and the +observation of the insane is carried on in an exceedingly +thorough and careful manner. In order to paint a case +of insanity according to Nature, an artist no longer needs, +like Shakespeare, to be leagues in advance of his age. He +only need copy a well-reported history of a case, and his +purpose is attained. Consequently the simple description +of psychical disease no longer comes within the domain of +the poet; and if we leave out of view those <i lang="fr">littérateurs</i> who +have in the practice of their art followed the desire for +originality and sensational effects, we do not find in modern +literature insanity exhibited for the direct interest of it, +but only in so far as it affects individual social relations +and society collectively.</p> + +<p>The idea of a universal psychical degeneration, as it is +put forth by many psychiatrists, likewise has its literary +defenders. I have already called Zola a “Nordau in the +shape of a novelist”; and this is also true of other writers +of similar theories. Frau Alving, in Ibsen’s Ghosts, says: +“We are all ghosts.... I can not take up a newspaper without +seeming to see the ghosts slinking between the lines. +Ghosts must live throughout the land. It seems to me they +must be as the sands of the sea.” We seem to be hearing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_323">[323]</span>Herr Nordau pronouncing upon the immanent <i lang="de">Völkerdämmerung</i>, +upon the gradual coming and increasing of universal +degeneration among mankind. Nordau considers that +those writers who share his own opinions show, precisely by +that, an infallible mark of their being fools and degenerates. +His master, Lombroso, on the other hand, acknowledges +that Zola and Ibsen “teach the same thing” that he himself +teaches.⁠<a id="FNanchor_218_218" href="#Footnote_218_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a>⁠</p> + +<p>It is not Ibsen’s purpose to paint mental sickenings just +as they really are. They are the mere vehicles of his ideas, +especially of the law of heredity, of the influence of a licentious +and dissolute course of life upon the development of +the next generation. Neither the painting of the maladies +nor the selection of those which are represented as transmitted +in procreation correspond to the real facts. But the +writer did not mind that. While Nordau makes this a grave +matter for reproach and even a ground for psychiatric inferences, +Lombroso expressly declares that it is not right to insist +upon scientific accuracy from a poet in his painting of +insanity, but that it is proper for him to proceed <i lang="la">cum grano +salis</i>, so as to give his idea an artistic embodiment. At any +rate, the exhibition of the clinical picture, as such, is in +Ibsen altogether a secondary matter, the purpose of the +poetic use of nervous disorders being the moral. Oswald, in +Ghosts, is the victim of the dissipations of his father. Dr. +Rank, in Nora, says: “My poor innocent spine has to expiate +the joyous lieutenant’s life of my father.” He strongly accentuates +the moral: “And so such an inexorable retribution +governs in one way or another every family.” We thus +meet in the poet the same idea that Nordau proclaims—that +of a widespread hereditary sickening—a universal degeneration.</p> + +<p>The circumstance that Ibsen makes a quite arbitrary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_324">[324]</span>choice of diseases to exhibit his concept of heredity and degeneration +is not surprising, and as poet he can the less be +reproached for it that he follows in that respect the doctrines +of one school of scientific men. We may smile at +Ibsen’s representing, in Ghosts, general paresis as an hereditary +infliction; in Nora, a disease of the spine, <i>tabes</i>; in The +Wild Duck, a disease of the eyes; but, after all, this entirely +agrees with a certain departure which has lately found place +in psychopathology.</p> + +<p>The widespread idea of a universal “degeneration” is in +great part due to the belief that every mental disease and +most nervous sufferings are phenomena of “degeneration”—a +belief which is not only general among the laity, but to +which many psychiatrists incline. At any rate, they place +psychoses in that category which do not belong there at all. +It would result from this opinion that any decided increase +in the frequency of insanity, disproportionate to the growth +of the population, must be a “degeneration,” since, according +to them, almost all mental diseases are consequences of +the process by which a state of “degeneration” is brought +about.</p> + +<p>The concept of “degeneration” is, as I have already explained, +that of a morbid condition resulting from perturbations +of growth of the psychical organ. Degenerates are at +a low stage of development; the organic vehicles of their +mental action are either merely at that low stage of growth or +are deformed and misshapen. The degeneration of a whole +people would therefore be due to a universal mental deterioration, +an arrest of the psychical organ, and at last, since +the completely degenerate, the extreme idiots, are incapable +of procreation, if the process which gave rise to the state of +degeneration progressed still further, the race would die +out. But the history of insanity shows that the increase of +it depends in part upon the progress of higher civilization. +A heightened mental action, a refinement and elaboration of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_325">[325]</span>the psychical organism, has for a consequence a greater disposition +to mental derangements. But to infer from this +heightened mental action, or, what comes to the same thing, +from the increased number of cases of derangement which +results from it, that there has been a universal retrogression +of mental development, resulting in a “degeneration” of the +masses, is just as erroneous as to identify the highest refinement +and elaboration of the psychical organism, or genius, +with insanity.</p> + +<p>The question of a state of universal degeneration, resulting +from a process of mental decay, must therefore be treated +quite independently from the question of an increase of cases +of insanity. Maladies contracted late in life can not be ascribed +to disturbances of growth, and have nothing to do +with degeneration. When Nordau avers that the diagnosis +of degeneration in Baudelaire was “fortified against all attack” +by the fact that he “died of general paresis,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_219_219" href="#Footnote_219_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a> he +simply shows that he does not know what the word degeneration +means. Paresis is a disease occurring most frequently +in fully developed men, seldom in degenerates, and +never in idiots. Von Krafft-Ebing⁠<a id="FNanchor_220_220" href="#Footnote_220_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a> says of its procatarctic +cause, “It is seldom congenital, hereditary; mostly acquired.” +If, therefore, we limit the concept of degeneration +to such morbid states as can undoubtedly be referred to +perturbations of growth, an increase of mental diseases does +not indicate a progressive degeneration.</p> + +<p>The universal opinion that the sudden revolution in all +modes of life, owing to the great inventions of this century—the +railway, the telephone, etc.—have had a bad influence on +the nervous system, has a certain amount of justification. A +number of cases of nervous exhaustion have arisen owing to +this unwonted and overstrained bustle of modern life. But +the importance attributed to these outward causes is too +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_326">[326]</span>great by far; and there is especially too much inclination to +exaggerate the sudden change of our modes of life, great as +it undeniably is. From some descriptions of it, one might +think that we had suddenly been carried from the merest +sluggard’s life to the supreme development of higher civilization. +When Nordau says that “the humblest village inhabitant +has to-day a wider geographical horizon, more +numerous and complex intellectual interests, than the prime +minister of a petty or even a second-rate state a century +ago,” and that to-day “a cook receives and sends more letters +than a university professor did formerly,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_221_221" href="#Footnote_221_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a> he simply +indulges in ridiculous exaggeration. I know not what intricate +mental interests Herr Nordau has discovered in the +“humblest village inhabitant.” When he tries to prove this +by saying that the villager “interests himself simultaneously +in the issue of a revolution in Chili, in a bush war in +east Africa, a massacre in north China, a famine in Russia, +a street row in Spain, and an international exhibition in +North America,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_222_222" href="#Footnote_222_222" class="fnanchor">[222]</a> he perhaps overestimates somewhat the +mental interests of the “humblest village inhabitant.” I +fancy that the mental interests of the peasantry to-day, as +centuries ago, turn much more on the thriving of their pigs +and calves than on revolutionists in Chili or bushwhackers +in east Africa. At any rate, we may safely assert that the +German peasants are in no present danger of overtaxing +their nervous systems by their “numerous and complex intellectual +interests.”</p> + +<p>We must confess that life to-day makes higher demands +upon the individual than in the last century; but it is an +exaggeration for Nordau to maintain that every single man +does from five to five-and-twenty times as much work as he +would have done half a century ago. On the whole, more is +accomplished now than used to be done, because, thanks to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_327">[327]</span>the great inventions, a workman can now do more in one +hour than ten workmen could do in a whole day a century +ago. But the expenditure of strength of any one man is not +very much greater.</p> + +<p>The mental work of the “upper ten thousand,” who are +now supposed to be in a state of degeneration, has certainly +not been so monstrously increased as many are disposed to +think. Besides, mere work does not wear out the nervous +system nearly so much as the agitations of the emotions connected +with the intensification of the battle of life. These +things have, as I have elsewhere shown, an important influence +upon the bodily functions, especially those of the vascular +system, and thus upon the entire work of nutrition. +Wundt⁠<a id="FNanchor_223_223" href="#Footnote_223_223" class="fnanchor">[223]</a> says: “Care and sorrow influence nutrition by enduring +limitation of the entrance of air and blood.” Quiet +intellectual work, even if conjoined with great effort, does +far less harm to the nervous system than do such emotions +as affliction and anxiety.</p> + +<p>Had we, therefore, any reason to presume a universal degeneration +of the highly civilized nations, the causes of it +should be sought, above all, in the intensification of the +daily battle of life, with its train of depressing emotions and +anxieties. The increased impressions of the senses, and the +heightened demands upon the resistance of the nervous system, +occasioned by the sudden revolution—when they do +not bring about serious emotional disturbances, vexations, +etc.—may cause some fatigue, but are matters to which the +human organism quickly becomes habituated by the law of +adaptation.</p> + +<p>Our social relations undoubtedly draw more upon the +powers of the individual than did those of a century ago. +Yet that generation likewise thought its tasks more difficult +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_328">[328]</span>than those of its forefathers. We can not conceive that our +grade of civilization determines the limits of human capacity. +The demands which will be put upon the life of coming +generations will probably be far greater yet; but the human +system will contrive to adapt itself to those demands. +The weak will go to the wall; the strong will mount to +higher grades of development. This law of adaptation and +of further development always has operated in Nature, and +will still continue to do so.</p> + +<p>The arguments of which the sectaries of universal degeneration +avail themselves are, as we have seen in the +course of our investigations, by no means demonstrative. +They rest partly upon erroneous doctrines and partly upon a +quite amateurish apprehension of psychological and psychiatrical +concepts. Philosophy, art, and literature, in which +Nordau thinks he sees signs of universal degeneration, are +merely the expression of the modern metaphysics, of religious +scepticism, and of philosophical positivism.</p> + +<p>Moreover, by a very remarkable contradiction, Nordau +himself destroys his whole theory. After having characterized +modern art as the principal evidence of universal degeneration, +he declares, at the conclusion of his work, that +it constitutes a forward step in human development. He +says: “The fable and the fairy tale were once the highest +productions of the human mind.... To-day they represent +a species of literature only cultivated for the nursery. +The verse—which by rhythm, figurative expression, and +rhyme, trebly betrays its origin in the stimulation of +rhythmically functioning subordinate organs, in associations +of ideas working according to external similitudes, +and in that working according to consonance—was originally +the only form of literature. To-day it is only employed +for purely emotional portrayal; for all other purposes +it has been conquered by prose, and indeed has +almost passed into the condition of an atavistic language. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_329">[329]</span>Under our very eyes the novel is being increasingly degraded, +serious and highly cultivated men scarcely deeming +it worthy of attention, and it appeals more and more exclusively +to the young and to women.”⁠<a id="FNanchor_224_224" href="#Footnote_224_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a> According to +this, we must presume that our art, which has already +“conquered” its earlier form, stands upon a higher grade +of development, so that there can be no question of degeneration +in it. But the idea that the poetry of a Homer, a +Dante, a Goethe, has proceeded “from the stimulation of +rhythmically functioning, subordinate organs,” and that it +ought to-day to be considered as in “the condition of an +atavistic language,” is as ridiculous as the contrary thesis of +the degeneration of modern art. No subordinate organs, +but the idealistic universe-conception of the times, dictated +the form of art in each period of the world’s history.</p> + +<p>When Nordau asserts that—in case his “therapy” is +considered and humanity is thus protected from further +arrest and degeneration—“after some centuries art and +poetry will have become pure atavisms, and will no longer +be cultivated except by the most emotional portion of +humanity—by women, by the young, perhaps even by +children,”⁠<a id="FNanchor_225_225" href="#Footnote_225_225" class="fnanchor">[225]</a> his assertion rests upon ignorance of the psychical +constitution of those heroes of the mind whom we call +geniuses. Whoever does not persist in the attitude of +Moreau and with him stigmatizes genius as a morbid condition, +will see that, with the further mental development of +humanity, creative genius will continue to produce, as it +always has been producing. In discussing the psychology +of genius we have seen that “the artist of genius does not +create because he would, but because he must.” Hence +art will continue to subsist as long as there are men upon +the earth.</p> + +<p>As to the form which the art of future centuries is to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_330">[330]</span>assume, all possibility of divining it fails us. We know that +it is always dependent upon the contemporary conception +of the universe. But how this will shape itself in the distant +future we can not know. It were therefore a vain +proceeding to discuss the subject, or to express any decided +opinion about the matter.</p> + +<p>According to our investigations, we must necessarily +come to the conclusion that the authors mentioned have +adduced no proof of the alleged universal degeneration in +the highly civilized nations. Mankind is not in a “black +plague of degeneration”; and the world has as little need +to be scared by stories of the <i lang="de">Völkerdämmerung</i> as by the +prophecy of Herr Falb about the immanent destruction of +our planet. On the other hand, the further development of +mankind will be greatly benefited if the teachings of science +are attended to and the various baneful influences that act +upon the nervous system are combated. In that way increase +of insanity may be prevented, and a sane and well-developed +posterity insured.</p> + +</main> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> + +<nav data-epub-type="index"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_331">[331]</span></p> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="INDEX"> + INDEX. + </h2> +</div> + + +<ul class="index"> + <li class="ifrst">Anthropophagy in Germany, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Appetite, abnormalities in insanity, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Art, Nordau’s view of modern styles, <a href="#Page_203">203–205</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">various terms defined, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">superficial imitation of masters, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Attention, nature, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Beethoven, psychology of his art, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Body, should have due attention in education, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Bogeys, children should not be threatened with, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Brutus, apparition of Cæsar to, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Conceit of youthful degenerates, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Convents, hysteria in, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Courbet, symptoms of degeneracy, <a href="#Page_138">138–141</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Cromwell, vision of a gigantic woman, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Dancing mania, <a href="#Page_178">178</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Degeneration, symptoms according to Morel, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">should not be confused with heredity, <a href="#Page_119">119–121</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">among writers, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">supporters of the idea numerous, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">as depicted by Ibsen, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">not established by the exactions of modern life, <a href="#Page_324">324–330</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Delusions, nature, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Demonomania in the sixteenth century, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">in the beginning of the seventeenth, <a href="#Page_180">180</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Development, rapid, no indication of later powers, <a href="#Page_147">147</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Disease, nature, <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Drunkenness, effect on offspring, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Education, should seek uniform development, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">influence on character, <a href="#Page_149">149</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">imitation of parents’ faults, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">physical side not to be neglected, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">dangerous fictions, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">duty of the mother, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">influence in developing or hiding genius, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">training for show, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Emotions, seek expression, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">effect on the body, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">highly developed in poets, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">domination in some degenerates, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">deficiency or perversion in others, <a href="#Page_130">130</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">egoistic in others, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx"><i lang="de">Ernst</i>, Schopenhauer on, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Eroticism, ascribed to Wagner by Nordau, <a href="#Page_314">314–316</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Fancy, nature, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">its product depends upon its material, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">lively in the childhood of some degenerates, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Fashion, more rational than formerly, <a href="#Page_192">192–194</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx"><i lang="fr">Folie à deux</i>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Food, refusal to take, by men of genius and the insane, <a href="#Page_110">110</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Generals, nature of their genius, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Genius, meaning, <a href="#Page_19">19–24</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">its essential characteristic, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">varieties suggested, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">involuntary character of its possessor’s work, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">impulse to exercise its powers, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">in musical performers, <a href="#Page_61">61–63</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">scientific, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">in the labours of generals and statesmen, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">has no definite psychological meaning, <a href="#Page_68">68–70</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">alleged nearness to insanity, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">accompanied by hallucinations, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_332">[332]</span>excitation of poets during composition, <a href="#Page_96">96</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">the man of genius not a stranger to the world, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">absorption a frequent characteristic, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">often bears criticism ill, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">does not hold disagreeable habits in check, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">cases of insanity in men of genius, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">inheritance, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">prominent in youth, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Giants, sometimes disproportioned, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Gigantic growth, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Goethe on poetic genius, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on the poetic impulse, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on the development of Wilhelm Meister, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on the proper nature of poetry, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">compared with Schiller, <a href="#Page_48">48–54</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">character, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">mental condition, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">apparition of himself, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">story-telling in boyhood, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">power of reproducing perceptions, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">chronic melancholy, <a href="#Page_105">105</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">interest in stories told by his mother, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Graphomania as described by Lombroso, <a href="#Page_141">141–146</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Hallucinations, in the insane and men of genius, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>, <a href="#Page_83">83–85</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">distinguished from illusions, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">useful, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">religious visions, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">different opinions as to morbid character, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">produced by suggestion, <a href="#Page_92">92</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">recognition by percipients, <a href="#Page_94">94</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Heredity, relation to genius, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">must not be confused with degeneration, <a href="#Page_119">119–121</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Hypnotism, close relation to hysteria, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Hysteria, secular, defined, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">former prevalence, <a href="#Page_173">173–182</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">influenced by suggestion, <a href="#Page_182">182</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">recent examples, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">secular, not so prevalent as Nordau declares, <a href="#Page_191">191–198</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Ibsen, supports the idea of degeneration, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Idealism defined, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">conflict with other styles, <a href="#Page_207">207–210</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">Böcklin as an example, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Ideas, imperative, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Idiots, cases with high development of one faculty, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Illusions, distinguished from hallucinations, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Imbeciles, story-telling, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Impulse of the genius, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Injuries, check or modify mental development, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Insanity, improved treatment, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">misunderstood by theologians, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">present treatment not perfect, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">symptoms are exaggerations of normal conditions, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">ascribed to all men of remarkable powers, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">how detected, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">vivid dreams in, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">impulse to absurd labours, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">cases in men of genius, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">various manias, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">unbalanced development, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">wrong inferences from statistics, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">must not be confused with errors of the time, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">how far shown in productions of artists, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">of authors, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">Strindberg as an example, <a href="#Page_220">220–225</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">ascribed to Schopenhauer, <a href="#Page_228">228–231</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">ascribed to Wagner, <a href="#Page_300">300–308</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">depicted as a disease by Shakespeare, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Inventors, nature of their genius, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Lessing on poetic genius, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Literature, preference of writers for the ugly, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Lombroso, Cesare, his Genius and Insanity criticised, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on hereditary genius, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">diagnoses epilepsy and ecstasy in Dante, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">melancholia in Schopenhauer, <a href="#Page_228">228–231</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Luther, alleged hallucination, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Lying, a symptom of mental derangement, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Manias, various, <a href="#Page_124">124</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Marriage, Nordau’s views, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Mind, abnormal, deemed diseased, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">proportion of faculties, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Moods, connection with ideas, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Mother, duty, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">influence of Goethe’s, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">of Schiller’s, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">other cases, <a href="#Page_159">159–162</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_333">[333]</span>proper share in education, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Mozart, psychology of his musical creation, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56–59</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Musical performers, distinction between those having genius and those having talent, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Naturalism, defined, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">conflict with other styles, <a href="#Page_207">207–210</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">preference for the ugly, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Nordau, Max, on the prevalence of hysteria, <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191–195</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">his criticisms of current art, literature, and philosophy examined, <a href="#Page_196">196–198</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on degeneration in art, <a href="#Page_203">203–205</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on schools of art, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on insanity in Schopenhauer, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">criticises Zola, <a href="#Page_232">232–235</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on degeneracy in Tolstoi, <a href="#Page_239">239–245</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">on marriage, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">judgment of Ibsen, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">pronounces Wagner degenerate, <a href="#Page_308">308–319</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Originality, as a characteristic of genius, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Perceptions, how formed, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">reproduced by internal stimuli, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Poesy, relations to fancy and to intellect, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">dominated by impulse, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">shows the general in the particular, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Precocious children, injurious treatment, <a href="#Page_165">165–169</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Psychiatry, definition, <a href="#Page_1">1</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">an empirical science, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Realism, defined, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">conflict with other styles, <a href="#Page_207">207–210</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">preference for the ugly, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Recollection, nature, <a href="#Page_9">9</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">phenomena of associative reproduction, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Referential ideas, <a href="#Page_222">222–224</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Religious fanaticism due to degeneration, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Reproduction of perceptions, <a href="#Page_87">87–90</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Romanticism, defined, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">conflict with other styles, <a href="#Page_207">207–210</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Schiller on poetic genius, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_38">38</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">compared with Goethe, <a href="#Page_48">48–54</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Science, the work of genius in, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_67">67</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Shakespeare, not visible in his characters, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">depiction of insanity, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Spiritualism, successor to the belief in witchcraft, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Statesmen, nature of their genius, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Stories, fictitious, injurious to dreamy children, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Suggestion, influence in hysteria, <a href="#Page_182">182–186</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">in spiritualism, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Talent, musical, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61–63</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Theologians, errors concerning insanity, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Tolstoi, speculations on life, <a href="#Page_235">235–239</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">his degeneracy in Nordau’s eyes, <a href="#Page_239">239–245</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Vulgarity of many degenerate writers, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Wagner, describes the Heroic Symphony, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">early years, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">first works, <a href="#Page_250">250–252</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">the Flying Dutchman, <a href="#Page_253">253–256</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">nature of his artistic tendency, <a href="#Page_256">256–260</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">success of Rienzi, <a href="#Page_260">260–262</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">the writing of Tannhäuser, <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263–266</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">Lohengrin, <a href="#Page_266">266–269</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">his revolt against the culture of his time, <a href="#Page_269">269–271</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">sketch of the Nibelung trilogy, <a href="#Page_272">272–288</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">sketch of Parsifal, <a href="#Page_288">288–294</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">his art as it appeared to him, <a href="#Page_295">295–297</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">irksomeness of writing, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">the psychical side of his works, <a href="#Page_298">298–300</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">declared insane by Theodor Puschmann, <a href="#Page_300">300–308</a>;</li> + <li class="isub1">declared degenerate by Nordau, <a href="#Page_308">308–319</a>.</li> + + <li class="indx">Werewolf superstition, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</li> + + + <li class="ifrst">Zola, criticised by Nordau, <a href="#Page_232">232–235</a>.</li> +</ul> +</nav> + + +<p class="center"> + <i>Printed from American Plates</i><br> + <span class="smcap">Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.</span><br> + <i>London & Edinburgh</i> +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" aria-hidden="true"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="FOOTNOTES"> + FOOTNOTES + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_1" href="#FNanchor_1_1" class="label">[1]</a> +Compare the report of the yearly meeting of the Association of German +Alienists, at Frankfurt a. M., 1893. Report upon Psychiatry and the Care of +Souls, by Siemens.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_2" href="#FNanchor_2_2" class="label">[2]</a> +<span lang="de">Theorie der schönen Künste</span>, 3d ed., 1798. Article, <span lang="de">Genie</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_3_3" href="#FNanchor_3_3" class="label">[3]</a> +L’Abbé Du Bos. <span lang="fr">Réflexions critiques sur la poésie et sur la peinture</span>, 2d part, +section 1. “<span lang="fr">On appelle génie, l’aptitude qu’un homme a reçu de la nature pour +faire bien et facilement certaines choses que les autres ne sauroient faire que très +mal, même en prenant beaucoup de peine.</span>”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_4_4" href="#FNanchor_4_4" class="label">[4]</a> +<span lang="de">Theorie der schönen Künste und Wissenschaften</span>, ed. of 1767, p. 391.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_5_5" href="#FNanchor_5_5" class="label">[5]</a> +Logik und Metaphysik.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_6_6" href="#FNanchor_6_6" class="label">[6]</a> +Metaphysica, § 648. “<span lang="la">Determinata facultatum cognoscitiuarum proportio inter +se in aliquo est ingenium.</span>”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_7_7" href="#FNanchor_7_7" class="label">[7]</a> +<span lang="de">Ursache des gesunkenen Geschmacks bei den verschiedenen Völkern, da er +geblüht</span>, 1775, p. 62.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_8_8" href="#FNanchor_8_8" class="label">[8]</a> +Karl Friedrich Flögel. Geschichte des menschlichen Verstandes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_9_9" href="#FNanchor_9_9" class="label">[9]</a> +Betrachtungen über den Menschen.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_10_10" href="#FNanchor_10_10" class="label">[10]</a> +<span lang="la">Psychologie des grands hommes.</span> Originally published in the <span lang="fr">Revue Philosophique</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_11_11" href="#FNanchor_11_11" class="label">[11]</a> +Ferdinand Christoph Weise. Allgemeine Theorie des Genies.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_12_12" href="#FNanchor_12_12" class="label">[12]</a> +An Essay on Genius, 1774. “Genius is properly the faculty of invention, by +means of which a man is qualified for making new discoveries in science, or for +producing original works of art. We may ascribe taste, judgment, or knowledge +to a man who is incapable of invention, but we can not reckon him as a man of +genius. In order to determine how far he merits this character (!) we must inquire +whether he has discovered any new principle in science, or has invented any new +art, or has carried those arts that are already practised to a higher degree of perfection +than former masters; or whether, at least, he has, in matters of science, improved +upon the discoveries of his predecessors, or reduced principles formerly +known to a greater degree of simplicity and consistency, or traced them through a +train of consequences hitherto unknown; or in the arts, whether he has designed +some new work different from those of his predecessors, though not perhaps excelling +them (!). Whatever falls short of this is servile imitation or a dull effort of +plodding industry, which, as not implying invention, can be deemed no proof of +genius, whatever capacity, skill, or diligence it may evidence. But if a man shows +invention, no intellectual defects (!) which his performance may betray can forfeit +his claim to genius. His invention may be irregular, wild, undisciplined; but +still it is regarded as an infallible mark of real natural genius (!), and the degree of +this faculty that we ascribe to him is always in proportion to the novelty, the difficulty, +and the dignity of his inventions.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_13_13" href="#FNanchor_13_13" class="label">[13]</a> +Geschichte des menschlichen Verstandes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_14_14" href="#FNanchor_14_14" class="label">[14]</a> +<span lang="de">Anthropologie in pragmatischer Hinsicht</span>, 1798, § 55.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_15_15" href="#FNanchor_15_15" class="label">[15]</a> +<span lang="de">Ueber die Verwandtschaft des Genies mit dem Irrsinn, in the Allgemeine +Zeitschrift für Psychiatrie</span>, vol. xxxiii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_16_16" href="#FNanchor_16_16" class="label">[16]</a> +Ferdinand Christoph Weise. Allgemeine Theorie des Genies.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_17_17" href="#FNanchor_17_17" class="label">[17]</a> +<i>Loc. cit.</i>, p. 318.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_18_18" href="#FNanchor_18_18" class="label">[18]</a> +P. 319.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_19_19" href="#FNanchor_19_19" class="label">[19]</a> +<span lang="fr">De l’esprit</span>, 1758. <span lang="fr">Discours 4me.</span>, chap. i.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_20_20" href="#FNanchor_20_20" class="label">[20]</a> +“To gain an exact definition of the word genius, and in general of the aggregate +of different names given to mind, we must rise to wider ideas, and for this +purpose we must lend an attentive ear to the judgments of the public.... The +public ranks as men of genius alike the Descartes, the Newtons, the Lockes, the +Montesquieus, the Corneilles, the Molières, etc. The name genius given to men so +different supposes that there is some common quality in which they agree.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_21_21" href="#FNanchor_21_21" class="label">[21]</a> +Paul Radestock. Genie und Wahnsinn.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_22_22" href="#FNanchor_22_22" class="label">[22]</a> +<span lang="de">Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung</span>, vol. i, Book <span class="allsmcap">III</span>, + § 36, and vol. ii, cap. xxxi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_23_23" href="#FNanchor_23_23" class="label">[23]</a> +Jürgen Bona Meyer. Genie und Talent, Zeitschrift für Völkerpsychologie +und Sprachwissenschaften, B. xi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_24_24" href="#FNanchor_24_24" class="label">[24]</a> +<span lang="de">Friedrich Theodor Vischer. Æsthetik; oder Wissenschaft des Schönen</span>, 1846.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_25_25" href="#FNanchor_25_25" class="label">[25]</a> +Vorschule der Æsthetik, § 12, Besonnenheit.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_26_26" href="#FNanchor_26_26" class="label">[26]</a> +1773, April 20. “<span lang="fr">Il faut avouer que dans les arts de génie, tout est l’ouvrage +de l’instinct. Corneille fit la scène d’Horace et de Curiace comme un oiseau fait +son nid, à cela près qu’un oiseau fait toujours bien, et qu’il n’en est pas de même de +nous autres chétifs.</span>”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_27_27" href="#FNanchor_27_27" class="label">[27]</a> +Grundzüge der physiologischen Psychologie.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_28_28" href="#FNanchor_28_28" class="label">[28]</a> +Garve. Anmerkungen über Gellert.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_29_29" href="#FNanchor_29_29" class="label">[29]</a> +Hamburgische Dramaturgie, 34tes Stück.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_30_30" href="#FNanchor_30_30" class="label">[30]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein Quidam sagt: “Ich bin von keiner Schule;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Kein Meister lebt, mit dem ich buhle;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Auch bin ich weit davon entfernt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dass ich von Todten was gelernt.”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das heisst, wenn ich ihn recht verstand:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Ich bin ein Narr, auf eigne Hand.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_31_31" href="#FNanchor_31_31" class="label">[31]</a> +Entgegnung auf Äusserungen Französischer Journalisten.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_32_32" href="#FNanchor_32_32" class="label">[32]</a> +<span lang="de">Wilhelm Dilthey. Ueber die Einbildungskraft der Dichter. Zeitschrift für +Völkerpsychologie und Sprachwissenschaft</span>, vol. x.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_33_33" href="#FNanchor_33_33" class="label">[33]</a> +Hermann Grimm, Goethe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_34_34" href="#FNanchor_34_34" class="label">[34]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Freudvoll und leidvoll</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gedankenvoll sein;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hangen und Bangen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In schwebender Pein,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Himmelhoch jauchzend,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Zum Tode betrübt ...</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_35_35" href="#FNanchor_35_35" class="label">[35]</a> +Otto Jahn, Mozart, i, 840.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_36_36" href="#FNanchor_36_36" class="label">[36]</a> +Nissen, Mozart, p. 627.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_37_37" href="#FNanchor_37_37" class="label">[37]</a> +Jahn, <i>Op. cit.</i>, ii, 127.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_38_38" href="#FNanchor_38_38" class="label">[38]</a> +<span lang="de">Gesammelte Schriften</span>, vol. v.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_39_39" href="#FNanchor_39_39" class="label">[39]</a> +Schiller’s Horen, Bd. I.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_40_40" href="#FNanchor_40_40" class="label">[40]</a> +Jean Paul, Vorschule der Æsthetik.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_41_41" href="#FNanchor_41_41" class="label">[41]</a> +Leben, Charakter, und Kunst des Ritters Nicolo Paganini.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_42_42" href="#FNanchor_42_42" class="label">[42]</a> +<span lang="de">Wundt. Physiologische Psychologie</span>, ii, 403.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_43_43" href="#FNanchor_43_43" class="label">[43]</a> +Jürgen Bona Meyer. Genie und Talent.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="la"><p><a id="Footnote_44_44" href="#FNanchor_44_44" class="label">[44]</a> +De tranquilitate animi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_45_45" href="#FNanchor_45_45" class="label">[45]</a> +<span lang="la">Problemata</span>, 30, 1.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_46_46" href="#FNanchor_46_46" class="label">[46]</a> +<span lang="la">De divinatione</span>, i, 37.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_47_47" href="#FNanchor_47_47" class="label">[47]</a> +Od. iii, 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_48_48" href="#FNanchor_48_48" class="label">[48]</a> +Absalom and Architophel, i, 63.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_49_49" href="#FNanchor_49_49" class="label">[49]</a> +<span lang="fr">Leçons sur la chaleur animale.</span> Paris, 1875, <span lang="fr">Leçon 19me</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_50_50" href="#FNanchor_50_50" class="label">[50]</a> +Ranke. Der Mensch.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_51_51" href="#FNanchor_51_51" class="label">[51]</a> +<span lang="fr">La psychologie morbide dans ses rapports avec la philosophie de l’histoire</span>, +Paris, 1859.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_52_52" href="#FNanchor_52_52" class="label">[52]</a> +<span lang="it">Genio e follia</span>, 1864.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_53_53" href="#FNanchor_53_53" class="label">[53]</a> +Lombroso. <span lang="de">Neurose bei Dante und Michelangelo. Die Zukunft, herausgeb.</span> +Maxim. Harden, vol. v, No. 12.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_54_54" href="#FNanchor_54_54" class="label">[54]</a> +The sanity of true genius.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_55_55" href="#FNanchor_55_55" class="label">[55]</a> +Plutarch. Brutus, chap. xxxvi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_56_56" href="#FNanchor_56_56" class="label">[56]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, chap. xlviii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="it"><p><a id="Footnote_57_57" href="#FNanchor_57_57" class="label">[57]</a> +Genio e follia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_58_58" href="#FNanchor_58_58" class="label">[58]</a> +Lombroso. <i>Op. cit.</i>, p. 19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_59_59" href="#FNanchor_59_59" class="label">[59]</a> +Von Krafft-Ebing. Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_60_60" href="#FNanchor_60_60" class="label">[60]</a> +Zur Theorie der Hallucination. Allgemeine Zeitschrift für Psychiatrie, +Bd. xxv.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_61_61" href="#FNanchor_61_61" class="label">[61]</a> +The Power of the Soul over the Body, 1845, Part II, chap. vii. (5th ed., p. 170).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="it"><p><a id="Footnote_62_62" href="#FNanchor_62_62" class="label">[62]</a> +Vita di Vittorio Alfieri scritta di Esso, Epoca 4ta, cap. xv.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_63_63" href="#FNanchor_63_63" class="label">[63]</a> +Letter to Moore, January 28, 1817.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="fr"><p><a id="Footnote_64_64" href="#FNanchor_64_64" class="label">[64]</a> +Charcot. Leçons sur les maladies du système nerveux.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="fr"><p><a id="Footnote_65_65" href="#FNanchor_65_65" class="label">[65]</a> +Morel. Études cliniques.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="fr"><p><a id="Footnote_66_66" href="#FNanchor_66_66" class="label">[66]</a> +Lasègnes. Les hystériques, leur perversité, leurs mensonges.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_67_67" href="#FNanchor_67_67" class="label">[67]</a> +Delbrück. Die pathologische Lüge.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_68_68" href="#FNanchor_68_68" class="label">[68]</a> +<span lang="fr">Psychologie de l’idiot et de l’imbécile</span>, 1891, chap. viii, p. 216.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_69_69" href="#FNanchor_69_69" class="label">[69]</a> +Hagen. Ueber die Verwandtschaft des Genies mit dem Irrsinn. Allgem. +Zeitschr. f. Psychiatrie, B. xxxiii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_70_70" href="#FNanchor_70_70" class="label">[70]</a> +Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_71_71" href="#FNanchor_71_71" class="label">[71]</a> +<span lang="fr">Trélat. La Folie Lucide</span>, quoted by Cullerre.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_72_72" href="#FNanchor_72_72" class="label">[72]</a> +Bayard Taylor’s Faust. From the scene in Faust’s study just before the entrance +of the student.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_73_73" href="#FNanchor_73_73" class="label">[73]</a> +Genius and Insanity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_74_74" href="#FNanchor_74_74" class="label">[74]</a> +Jürgen Bona Meyer. Genie und Talent.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_75_75" href="#FNanchor_75_75" class="label">[75]</a> +The Æsthetician Vischer says: “The man endowed with fancy is in the +midst of the world truly solitary, for the one which he at present peacefully +warms in his bosom is his world; and the empirical world has surrendered all its +significance to this microcosm. Thus he is indifferent to the things about him, +and seems to be out of himself. The reason is, that he is quite within himself, but +in such a way that he does not distinguish subject and object within himself. +What has come upon him is that the object and his subjective life ferment together; +and he now listens unconsciously to this inward singing, sounding, and +weaving.” Vol. ii, p. 345.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_76_76" href="#FNanchor_76_76" class="label">[76]</a> +See <span lang="de">P. Möbius. Krankengeschichte Rousseaus.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_77_77" href="#FNanchor_77_77" class="label">[77]</a> +Ribot, Heredity; Francis Galton, Hereditary Genius, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_78_78" href="#FNanchor_78_78" class="label">[78]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 72.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_79_79" href="#FNanchor_79_79" class="label">[79]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 76.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_80_80" href="#FNanchor_80_80" class="label">[80]</a> +<span lang="de">Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie</span>, p. 197.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="fr"><p><a id="Footnote_81_81" href="#FNanchor_81_81" class="label">[81]</a> +Traité des Dégénérescences Physiques, Intellectuelles et Morales.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_82_82" href="#FNanchor_82_82" class="label">[82]</a> +See the introduction to <span lang="de">Psychiatrische Vorlesungen von V. Magnan</span>. Transl. +by P. J. Möbius.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_83_83" href="#FNanchor_83_83" class="label">[83]</a> +Realencyclopädie der gesamten Heilkunde.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_84_84" href="#FNanchor_84_84" class="label">[84]</a> +<span lang="de">v. Krafft-Ebing. Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie</span>, 4th ed.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_85_85" href="#FNanchor_85_85" class="label">[85]</a> +Compare von Krafft-Ebing, p. 179: “Wonderful as it is, cases adduced by +von Flemming, Ruer, and Demeaux prove the fact that even children of otherwise +temperate parents, whose copulation took place in a fateful hour of drunkenness, +are extremely disposed to mental derangement, especially to diseases of the nerves. +This bad interferential effect may show itself from birth as inborn imbecility +(<i lang="de">Schwach und Blödsinn</i>).”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_86_86" href="#FNanchor_86_86" class="label">[86]</a> +<span lang="de">Psychiatrische Vorlesungen von Magnan.</span> Transl. by P. J. Möbius.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_87_87" href="#FNanchor_87_87" class="label">[87]</a> +<i>Op cit.</i>, i, 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_88_88" href="#FNanchor_88_88" class="label">[88]</a> +W. W. Ireland. <span lang="de">Herrschermacht und Geisteskrankheit.</span> Stuttgart, 1887.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_89_89" href="#FNanchor_89_89" class="label">[89]</a> +<span lang="de">Ranke. Der Mensch.</span>, vol. ii, p. 136.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_90_90" href="#FNanchor_90_90" class="label">[90]</a> +<i>Op cit.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_91_91" href="#FNanchor_91_91" class="label">[91]</a> +Ranke. <i>Op. cit.</i>, ii, p. 135.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_92_92" href="#FNanchor_92_92" class="label">[92]</a> +<span lang="de">Anthropologie in pragmatischer Hinsicht</span>, § 56 (§ 57 in some editions).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_93_93" href="#FNanchor_93_93" class="label">[93]</a> +Rosenberg. Geschichte der modernen Kunst.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_94_94" href="#FNanchor_94_94" class="label">[94]</a> +On his refusal of the cross of the Legion of Honor.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_95_95" href="#FNanchor_95_95" class="label">[95]</a> +H. Störer. Leben des Ritters Karl von Linné.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_96_96" href="#FNanchor_96_96" class="label">[96]</a> +Sollier. Der Idiot und der Imbecille.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_97_97" href="#FNanchor_97_97" class="label">[97]</a> +<span lang="de">Gustav Hauffe. Talente und sogenannte besondere Anlagen hat der Mensch +nicht!</span> See <span lang="de">Pädagogische Sammelmappe</span>, 1875-’76, 1–6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_98_98" href="#FNanchor_98_98" class="label">[98]</a> +Ludwig Nohl. Biographie Mozarts.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_99_99" href="#FNanchor_99_99" class="label">[99]</a> +Lehrbuch der Psychiatrie.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_100_100" href="#FNanchor_100_100" class="label">[100]</a> +Pathologie und Therapie der Geisteskrankheiten.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_101_101" href="#FNanchor_101_101" class="label">[101]</a> +Schüle. Klinische Psychiatrie.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_102_102" href="#FNanchor_102_102" class="label">[102]</a> +<span lang="fr">La Peur</span>, Paris, 1886.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_103_103" href="#FNanchor_103_103" class="label">[103]</a> +G. H. Lewes. The Life and Works of Goethe, 1855, Book I, chap. v.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_104_104" href="#FNanchor_104_104" class="label">[104]</a> +Degeneration, p. 537.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_105_105" href="#FNanchor_105_105" class="label">[105]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_106_106" href="#FNanchor_106_106" class="label">[106]</a> +Calmeil. Der Wahnsinn in den vier letzten Jahrhunderten. Nach dem +Französischen bearbeitet von Leubusch.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_107_107" href="#FNanchor_107_107" class="label">[107]</a> +Calmeil, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 30. He cites <span lang="la">Annales Flandicorum</span>, ed. Jacob Meyer, lib. +xvi; <span lang="fr">Monstrelet, Chroniques</span>, book ii; Del Rio, <span lang="la">Disquisitiones magicarum</span>, etc., p. +821; J. Wier, <span lang="la">Opera Omnia</span>, p. 205.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_108_108" href="#FNanchor_108_108" class="label">[108]</a> +Nider. In <span lang="la">Malleo Maleficarum</span>, vol. i, p. 719.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_109_109" href="#FNanchor_109_109" class="label">[109]</a> +Sprenger. In <span lang="la">Malleo Maleficarum</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="fr"><p><a id="Footnote_110_110" href="#FNanchor_110_110" class="label">[110]</a> +Bodin. Démonomanie des sorciers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_111_111" href="#FNanchor_111_111" class="label">[111]</a> +Calmeil, <i>op. cit.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_112_112" href="#FNanchor_112_112" class="label">[112]</a> +Calmeil, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 32.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_113_113" href="#FNanchor_113_113" class="label">[113]</a> +<span lang="fr">Gilles de la Tourette.</span> <span lang="de">Die Hysterie nach den Lehren der Salpétrière. Deutsch +von Karl Grube.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_114_114" href="#FNanchor_114_114" class="label">[114]</a> +<span lang="de">Annalen für Hygiene und gerichtliche Medicin</span>, 1834, vol. xii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_115_115" href="#FNanchor_115_115" class="label">[115]</a> +Calmeil, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 84.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_116_116" href="#FNanchor_116_116" class="label">[116]</a> +Calmeil, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 84.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_117_117" href="#FNanchor_117_117" class="label">[117]</a> +Cf. <span lang="fr">Richer. Études cliniques sur l’Hystéro-épilepsie ou grande hystérie.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_118_118" href="#FNanchor_118_118" class="label">[118]</a> +Calmeil, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 139.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_119_119" href="#FNanchor_119_119" class="label">[119]</a> +The reader is especially referred to <span lang="fr">G. Guinon’s</span> article on <span lang="fr">Les agents provocateurs +de l’hystérie. Le Progrès Médical</span>, Paris, 1889.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_120_120" href="#FNanchor_120_120" class="label">[120]</a> +<span lang="fr">Delancre. Tableau de l’inconstance des mauvais anges et démons</span>, Paris, 1613; +<span lang="fr">P. Delancre. L’incrédulité et mécréance pleinement convaincue</span>, etc., Paris, 1622.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_121_121" href="#FNanchor_121_121" class="label">[121]</a> +Cf. <span lang="fr">P. Richer</span>, <i>op. cit.</i>, p. 712.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_122_122" href="#FNanchor_122_122" class="label">[122]</a> +<span lang="fr">Gilles de la Tourette</span>, <i>op cit.</i>, p. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_123_123" href="#FNanchor_123_123" class="label">[123]</a> +<span lang="de">F. Jolly. Ueber Hypnotismus und Geistesstörung.</span> In the <span lang="de">Archiv für Psychiatrie +und Nervenkrankheiten</span>, vol. xxv, Part III.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_124_124" href="#FNanchor_124_124" class="label">[124]</a> +Hagen. Genie und Irrsinn.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_125_125" href="#FNanchor_125_125" class="label">[125]</a> +Degeneration, p. 27.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_126_126" href="#FNanchor_126_126" class="label">[126]</a> +Degeneration, p. 29.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_127_127" href="#FNanchor_127_127" class="label">[127]</a> +Vorschule der Æsthetik.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_128_128" href="#FNanchor_128_128" class="label">[128]</a> +Die Krankengeschichte Rousseaus.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_129_129" href="#FNanchor_129_129" class="label">[129]</a> +Lombroso. <span lang="de">Neurose bei Dante und Michelangelo. Die Zukunft</span>, 1893.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_130_130" href="#FNanchor_130_130" class="label">[130]</a> +Inferno, iii, 130.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_131_131" href="#FNanchor_131_131" class="label">[131]</a> +See Dr. Nordau’s dedication of Degeneration to Prof. Lombroso.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_132_132" href="#FNanchor_132_132" class="label">[132]</a> +Lombroso and G. Ferrero. <span lang="de">Das Weib als Verbrecherin und Prostituierte, +uebersetzt von Kurella</span>, Hamburg, 1893.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_133_133" href="#FNanchor_133_133" class="label">[133]</a> +<span lang="de">Der Zeitgeist</span>, Berlin, 1892, No. 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_134_134" href="#FNanchor_134_134" class="label">[134]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 499.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_135_135" href="#FNanchor_135_135" class="label">[135]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 503.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_136_136" href="#FNanchor_136_136" class="label">[136]</a> +Degeneration, p. 151.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_137_137" href="#FNanchor_137_137" class="label">[137]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 166.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_138_138" href="#FNanchor_138_138" class="label">[138]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 150.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_139_139" href="#FNanchor_139_139" class="label">[139]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 154.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_140_140" href="#FNanchor_140_140" class="label">[140]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 415.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_141_141" href="#FNanchor_141_141" class="label">[141]</a> +Ed. von Hartmann. The Philosophy of the Unconscious.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_142_142" href="#FNanchor_142_142" class="label">[142]</a> +Richard Wagner. <span lang="de">Gesammelte Schriften und Dichtungen</span>, iv, p. 312.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_143_143" href="#FNanchor_143_143" class="label">[143]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 317.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_144_144" href="#FNanchor_144_144" class="label">[144]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, i, p. 14.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_145_145" href="#FNanchor_145_145" class="label">[145]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 315.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_146_146" href="#FNanchor_146_146" class="label">[146]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 316.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_147_147" href="#FNanchor_147_147" class="label">[147]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 321.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_148_148" href="#FNanchor_148_148" class="label">[148]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 328.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_149_149" href="#FNanchor_149_149" class="label">[149]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, vi, p. 372.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_150_150" href="#FNanchor_150_150" class="label">[150]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 288.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_151_151" href="#FNanchor_151_151" class="label">[151]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 389.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_152_152" href="#FNanchor_152_152" class="label">[152]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Unmöglich dünkt mich’s dass ich nenne</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Die Länder alle, die ich fand;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das einz’ge, nur, nach dem ich brenne,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ich find’es nicht, mein Heimatland.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_153_153" href="#FNanchor_153_153" class="label">[153]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, i, p. 24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_154_154" href="#FNanchor_154_154" class="label">[154]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 330.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_155_155" href="#FNanchor_155_155" class="label">[155]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nicht Lust allein liegt mir am Herzen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Aus Freuden sehn’ ich mich nach Schmerzen;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Aus deinem Reiche muss ich flieh’n,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Königin, Göttin! Lass mich zieh’n.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_156_156" href="#FNanchor_156_156" class="label">[156]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein Engel bat für dich auf Erden—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bald schwebt er segnend über dir:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elizabeth!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_157_157" href="#FNanchor_157_157" class="label">[157]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 343.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_158_158" href="#FNanchor_158_158" class="label">[158]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Doch hin muss ich zur Welt der Erden,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bei dir kann ich nur Sklave werden;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nach Freiheit doch verlange ich,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nach Freiheit, Freiheit dürstet’s mich;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Zu Kampf und Streite will ich stehen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sei’s auch auf Tod und Untergehen—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drum muss aus deinem Reich ich flieh’n—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Königin, Göttin! Lass mich zieh’n.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_159_159" href="#FNanchor_159_159" class="label">[159]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Deiner Schande Schmach blüht dir dann auf;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gebannt, verflucht, folgt dir der Hohn;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Zerknirscht, zertreten seh’ ich dich nahen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bedeckt mit Staub das entehrte Haupt.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_160_160" href="#FNanchor_160_160" class="label">[160]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 360.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_161_161" href="#FNanchor_161_161" class="label">[161]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nie sollst du mich befragen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Noch Wissens Sorge tragen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Woher ich kam der Fahrt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Noch wie mein Nam’ und Art!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_162_162" href="#FNanchor_162_162" class="label">[162]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Mein Held, mein Retter! Nimm mich hin!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dir gieb ich alles, was ich bin!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_163_163" href="#FNanchor_163_163" class="label">[163]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 363.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_164_164" href="#FNanchor_164_164" class="label">[164]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 365.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_165_165" href="#FNanchor_165_165" class="label">[165]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 369.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_166_166" href="#FNanchor_166_166" class="label">[166]</a> +Art and Revolution, <i>ibid.</i>, iii, p. 38.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_167_167" href="#FNanchor_167_167" class="label">[167]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 406.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_168_168" href="#FNanchor_168_168" class="label">[168]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iii, p. 39.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_169_169" href="#FNanchor_169_169" class="label">[169]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iii, p. 56.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_170_170" href="#FNanchor_170_170" class="label">[170]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iii, p. 266.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_171_171" href="#FNanchor_171_171" class="label">[171]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, iv, p. 381.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_172_172" href="#FNanchor_172_172" class="label">[172]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Der Welt Erbe</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gewänne zu eigen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wer aus dem Rheingold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Schüfe den Ring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der masslose Macht ihm verlieh.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_173_173" href="#FNanchor_173_173" class="label">[173]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nur wer der Minne</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Macht versagt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nur wer der Liebe</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lust verjagt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nur der erzielt sich den Zauber,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Zum Reif zu zwingen das Gold.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_174_174" href="#FNanchor_174_174" class="label">[174]</a> +Or “mist-hood,” a garment that rendered the wearer invisible and gave him +the strength of twelve men.—<span class="smcap">Translator.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_175_175" href="#FNanchor_175_175" class="label">[175]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Kein Froher soll</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seiner sich freu’n;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Keinem Glücklichen lache</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sein lichter Glanz;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wer ihn besitzt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Den sehre sorge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Und wer ihn nicht hat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nage der Neid!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Jeder giere</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nach seinem Gut,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Doch keiner geniesse</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mit Nutzen sein.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_176_176" href="#FNanchor_176_176" class="label">[176]</a> +On the State and Religion, <i>ibid.</i>, viii, p. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_177_177" href="#FNanchor_177_177" class="label">[177]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wie Alles war, weiss ich,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wie Alles wird,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wie Alles sein wird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seh’ ich auch:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der ew’gen Welt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ur-Wala,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Erda mahnt deinen Mut.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_178_178" href="#FNanchor_178_178" class="label">[178]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Die Burg ist fertig,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Verfallen das Pfand:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vergisst Du, was Du vergabst?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_179_179" href="#FNanchor_179_179" class="label">[179]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Das Weib zu missen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wisse gemutet mich weh:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Soll aus dem Sinn sie mir schwinden,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Des Geschmeides Hort</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Häufe denn so,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dass meinem Blick</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Die blühende ganz er verdeck’!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_180_180" href="#FNanchor_180_180" class="label">[180]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Weh’ noch blitzt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ihr Blick zu mir her,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Des Auges stern</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strahlt mich noch an:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Durch eine spalte,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Muss ich’s erspäh’n!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seh’ ich dies wonnige Auge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Von dem Weibe lass’ ich nicht ab.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_181_181" href="#FNanchor_181_181" class="label">[181]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Der durch Verträge ich Herr,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Den Verträgen bin ich nun Knecht.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_182_182" href="#FNanchor_182_182" class="label">[182]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Dann wäre Walhall verloren:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der der Liebe fluchte</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Er allein</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nützte neidisch</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Des Ringen Runen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Zu aller Edlen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Endloser schmach.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_183_183" href="#FNanchor_183_183" class="label">[183]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Was so schlimmes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Schuf das Paar,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das liebend einte der Lenz?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der Minne Zauber</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Entzückte sie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wer büsst mir der Minne Macht?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_184_184" href="#FNanchor_184_184" class="label">[184]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Du siehst nur das Eine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das And’re seh’ ich,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das Jenes mir jagt aus dem Blick.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>These words are taken from the original draft of the text, as it had been planned +before the scene was written.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_185_185" href="#FNanchor_185_185" class="label">[185]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Unheilig</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Acht’ ich den Eid,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der Unliebende eint;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Und mir wahrlich</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mute nicht zu,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dass mit Zwang ich halte,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was Dir nicht haftet:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Denn wo kühn Kräfte sich regen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Da rath’ ich offen zum Krieg.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_186_186" href="#FNanchor_186_186" class="label">[186]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">In eig’ner Fessel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fing ich mich:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ich unfreiester Aller!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_187_187" href="#FNanchor_187_187" class="label">[187]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Befiehl mir dein Weib</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Um des Pfandes Willen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das wonnig von Dir es empfing.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_188_188" href="#FNanchor_188_188" class="label">[188]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein bräutliches Feuer</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Soll Dir nun brennen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wie nie einer Braut es gebrannt!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flammende Glut</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Umglühe den Fels;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mit zehrenden Schrecken</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scheuch es den Zagen;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der Feige fliehe</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brünhilde’s Fels:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Denn einer nur freie die Braut,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der freier als ich der Gott!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_189_189" href="#FNanchor_189_189" class="label">[189]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fahre denn hin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Herrische Pracht,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Göttlichen Prunkes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prahlende Schmach!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Zusammenbreche,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was ich gebaut!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Auf geb’ ich mein Werk,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Eines nur will ich noch:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das Ende——</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Das Ende!—</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_190_190" href="#FNanchor_190_190" class="label">[190]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nur einer dürfte,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was ich nicht darf:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein Held dem helfend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nie ich mich neigte;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der fremd dem Gotte,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frei seiner Gunst,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unbewusst,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ohne Geheiss,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Aus eig’ner Not</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mit der eig’nen Wehr</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Schüfe die That,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Die ich scheuen muss,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Die nie mein Rat ihm entriet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wünscht sich auch einzig mein Wunsch.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_191_191" href="#FNanchor_191_191" class="label">[191]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Was ihr mir nützet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Weiss ich nicht.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_192_192" href="#FNanchor_192_192" class="label">[192]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Mein Blut verdärb euch den Trank;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nicht fliesst mir’s echt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Und edel wie euch,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Störrisch und kalt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stockt’s in mir;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nicht will’s die Wange mir röten,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drum bleib’ ich fern</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vom feurigen Bund.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_193_193" href="#FNanchor_193_193" class="label">[193]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Echter als er</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Schwur keiner Eide;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Treuer als er</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hielt keiner Vorträge;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Laut’rer als er</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Liebte kein and’rer.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_194_194" href="#FNanchor_194_194" class="label">[194]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Die seinem Dienst ihr zugesindet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Auf Pfaden, die kein Sünder findet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ihr wisst, dass nur dem Reinen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vergönnt ist, sich zu einen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Den Brüdern, die zu höchsten Rettungswerken</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Des Grales heil’ge Wunderkräfte stärken.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_195_195" href="#FNanchor_195_195" class="label">[195]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ohnmächtig, in sich selbst die Sünde zu ertöten,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An sich legt er die Frevlerhand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Die nun dem Grale zugewandt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Verachtungsvoll dess’ Hüter von sich stiess.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_196_196" href="#FNanchor_196_196" class="label">[196]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Schon nah dem Schloss wird uns der Held entrückt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein furchtbar schönes Weib hat ihn entzückt;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In seinen Armen liegt er trunken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der Speer ist ihm entsunken;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein Todesschrei!—ich stürm’ herbei:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Von dannen Klingsor schwand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Den heil’gen Speer hat er entwandt.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="de"><p><a id="Footnote_197_197" href="#FNanchor_197_197" class="label">[197]</a> +Wohl willst du, denn du musst.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_198_198" href="#FNanchor_198_198" class="label">[198]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Vor dem verwaisten Heiligtum</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In brünst’gem Beten lag Amfortas,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein Rettungszeichen heiss erflehend;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein sel’ger Schimmer da endfloss dem Grale;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ein heilig Traumgesicht</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nun deutlich zu ihm spricht</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Durch hell erschauter Wortezeichen Male:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Durch Mitleid wissend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der reine Thor,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Harre sein’,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Den ich erker.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_199_199" href="#FNanchor_199_199" class="label">[199]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wehe! Wehe! Was that ich? Wo, war ich?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mutter: Süsse, holde Mutter!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dein Sohn, dein Sohn musste dich morden?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O Thor! Blöder, taumelnder Thor!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wo irrtest Du hin, ihrer vergessend?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deiner, deiner vergessend,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Traute treuerste Mutter?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_200_200" href="#FNanchor_200_200" class="label">[200]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Als Muttersegens letzten Gruss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Der Liebe—ersten Kuss!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_201_201" href="#FNanchor_201_201" class="label">[201]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Amfortas!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Die Wunde!—die Wunde!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sie brennt in meinem Herzen.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_202_202" href="#FNanchor_202_202" class="label">[202]</a> +<i>Op. cit.</i>, iv, p. 368.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_203_203" href="#FNanchor_203_203" class="label">[203]</a> +<i>Op. cit.</i>, x, p. 224.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_204_204" href="#FNanchor_204_204" class="label">[204]</a> +<i>Op. cit.</i>, iv, p. 387.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_205_205" href="#FNanchor_205_205" class="label">[205]</a> +<i>Op. cit.</i>, iv, p. 401. See also <span lang="de">Zukunftsmusik</span>, vii, p. 153.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_206_206" href="#FNanchor_206_206" class="label">[206]</a> +Dr. Th. Puschmann, Practising Physician and Specialist in Psychology in +Munich. <span lang="de">Richard Wagner, eine psychiatrische Studie.</span></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_207_207" href="#FNanchor_207_207" class="label">[207]</a> +<span lang="de">Richard Wagner und der “Specialist der Psychiatrie.” Eine Beleuchtung +der Puschmannschen Studie von C. P. Berlin</span>, 1873.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_208_208" href="#FNanchor_208_208" class="label">[208]</a> +Degeneration, p. 205.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_209_209" href="#FNanchor_209_209" class="label">[209]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 171.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_210_210" href="#FNanchor_210_210" class="label">[210]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 172.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_211_211" href="#FNanchor_211_211" class="label">[211]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 176.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_212_212" href="#FNanchor_212_212" class="label">[212]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 181.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_213_213" href="#FNanchor_213_213" class="label">[213]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 188.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_214_214" href="#FNanchor_214_214" class="label">[214]</a></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza" lang="de"> + <div class="verse indent0">Doch einmal im Jahre fänd’ ich’s weise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dass man die Regeln selbst probir’,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ob in der Gewohnheit trägem G’leise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ihr’ Kraft und Leben sich nicht verlier’:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Und ob ihr der Natur</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Noch seid auf rechter Spur,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dass sagt euch nur,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wer nichts weiss von der Tabulatur.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_215_215" href="#FNanchor_215_215" class="label">[215]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i>, p. 203.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote" lang="la"><p><a id="Footnote_216_216" href="#FNanchor_216_216" class="label">[216]</a> +Æschyli Choëphoræ.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_217_217" href="#FNanchor_217_217" class="label">[217]</a> +<span lang="fr">Les démoniaques dans l’art</span>, Paris, 1887.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_218_218" href="#FNanchor_218_218" class="label">[218]</a> +Ibsen’s <span lang="de">Gespenster und die Psychiatrie, Die Zukunft</span>, Berlin, 1893, vol. iv, +No. 51.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_219_219" href="#FNanchor_219_219" class="label">[219]</a> +Degeneration, p. 285.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_220_220" href="#FNanchor_220_220" class="label">[220]</a> +<i>Op cit.</i>, p. 670.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_221_221" href="#FNanchor_221_221" class="label">[221]</a> +Degeneration, p. 39.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_222_222" href="#FNanchor_222_222" class="label">[222]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_223_223" href="#FNanchor_223_223" class="label">[223]</a> +<span lang="de">Wilhelm Wundt. Grundzüge der physiologischen Psychologie</span>, third edition, +Leipsic, 1887, ii, p. 457.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_224_224" href="#FNanchor_224_224" class="label">[224]</a> +Degeneration, p. 543.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_225_225" href="#FNanchor_225_225" class="label">[225]</a> +<i>Ibid.</i></p></div> + +<div class="transnote"> +<h2>Transcriber’s Notes</h2> + +<p>HTML versions of this text contain language and emphasis markup to aid accessibility. +The cover image was made by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 79296 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/79296-h/images/cover.jpg b/79296-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f7d693 --- /dev/null +++ b/79296-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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