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Sex and character / ' 

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By Otto Weininger 

Authorised Translation 
FROM THE Sixth German Edition 

A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers 
New York Chicago 


Made in the United States of America 

(By the German Publisher) 

There are few instances in the history of literature in which 
a work so mature in its scientific purpose and so original in its 
philosophic aspect as " Sex and Character " has been produced 
by a student who was at the time of its completion less than 
thirty years of age. " Sex and Character " was at once accepted 
by scientific authorities, who had direct knowledge of its sub- 
ject matter, as a book that demanded respectful consideration, 
whether or not its conclusions might be accepted. It may at 
once be admitted that the book is by no means in harmony with 
contemporary thought. If the conclusions of Weininger should 
be accepted, discu^^sions concerning the emancipation of women, 
the relation of women to culture, and the results of sexuality 
would be deprived of their foundation. In this treatise, we 
have presented, with all the penetrating acumen of the trained 
logician, a characterisation of sexual types, " M " (the ideal 
man), and " W " (the ideal woman). The psychological phe- 
nomena are traced back to a final source and the author under- 
takes to present what he believes to be a definitive solution 
altogether alien to the field of inquiry wherein the answer has 
hitherto been sought. 

In the science of characterology, here formuliited for the 
first time, we have a strenuous scientific achievement of the 
first importance. All former psychologies have been the psy- 
chology of the male, written by men, and more or less 
consciously applicable only to man as distinguished from 
humanity. " Woman does not betray her secret," said Kant, 
and this has been true till now. But now she has revealed it 
— ^by the voice of a man. The things women say about them- 
selves have been suggested by men ; they repeat the discoveries, 
more or less real, which men have made about them. By a 


highly original method of analysis, a man has succeeded for 
the first time in giving scientific and abstract utterance to that 
which only some few great artists have suggested by concrete 
images hitherto. Weininger, working out an original system 
of characterology (psychological typology) rich in prospective 
possibilities, undertook the construction of a universal psy- 
chology of woman which penetrates to the nethermost depths, 
and is based not only on a vast systematic mastery of scientific 
knowledge, but on what can only be described as an appalling 
comprehension of the feminine soul in its most secret recesses. 
This newly created method embraces the whole domain of 
human consciousness ; research must be carried out on the lines 
laid down by Nature — in three stages, and from three distinct 
points of view : the biologico-physiological, the psychologically 
descriptive, and the philosophically appreciative. I will not 
dwell here on the equipment essential for such a task, the neces- 
sary combination of a comprehensive knowledge of natural 
history with a minute and exhaustive mastery of psychological 
and philosophical science — a combination destined, perhaps, to 
prove unique. 

The general characterisation of the ideal woman, " W," is 
followed by the construction of individual types, which are 
finally resolved into two elemental figures (Platonic concep- 
tions to some extent), the Courtesan and the Mother. These 
are differentiated by their pre-occupation with the sexual act 
(the main, and ir^the ultimate sense, sole interest of " W"), 
in the first case, as an end in itself, in the second as the process 
which results in the possession of a child. The abnormal type, 
the hysterical woman, leads up to a psychological (not physio- 
logical) theory of hysteria, which is acutely and convincingly 
defined as " the organic mendacity of woman." 

Weininger himself attached the highest importance to the 
ethico-philosophical chapters that conclude his work, in which 
he passes from the special problem of sexuality to the problems 
of individual talent, genius, aesthetics, memory, the ego, the 
Jewish race, and many others, nsing finally to the ultimate 
logical and moral principles of judgment. From his most 
universal standpoint he succeeds in estimating woman as a part 
of humanity, and, above all, subjectively. Here he deliberately 


comes into sharp conflict with the fashionable tendencies 
towards an unscientific monism and its accompanying phe- 
nomena, pan-sexuality and the ethics of species, and charac- 
terises very aptly the customary superficialities of the many 
non-philosophical modern apostles, of whom Wilhelm Bölsche 
and Ellen Key are perhaps the most representative types. 
Weininger, in defiance of all reigning fashions, represents a 
consolidated dualism, closely related to the eternal systems of 
Plato, of Christianity, and of Kant, which finds an original 
issue in a bitterly tragic conception of the universe. Richard 
Wagner gives artistic expression in his Parsifal to the con- 
ception Weininger sets forth scientifically. It is, in fact, 
the old doctrine of the divine life and of redemption to which 
the whole book, with its array of detail, is consecrated. In 
Kundry, Weininger recognises the most profound conception 
of woman in all literature. In her redemption by the spotless 
Parsifal, the young philosopher sees the way of mankind 
marked out; he contrasts with this the programme of the 
modern feminist movement, with its superficialities and its lies ; 
and so, in conclusion, the book returns to the problem, which, 
in spite of all its wealth of thought, remains its governing idea : 
the problem of the sexes and the possibility of a moral relation 
between them — a moral relation fundamentally different from 
what is commonly understood by the term, of course. In this 
volume is revealed the mind of one who was, it may be believed, 
a conscientious student, and to whom life brought only unhap- 
piness and tragedy. No thoughtful man can lay down the book 
without being impressed by the earnestness and the honesty 
of the author's investigations. 


This book is an attempt to place the relations of Sex in a 
new and decisive light. It is an attempt not to collect the 
greatest possible number of distinguishing characters, or 
to arrange into a system all the results of scientific measur- 
ing and experiment, but to refer to a single principle the 
whole contrast between man and woman. In this respect 
the book differs from all other works on the same subject. 
It does not linger over this or that detail, but presses on to 
its ultimate goal ; it does not heap investigation on investi- 
gation, but combmes the psychical differences between the 
sexes into a system ; it deals not with women, but with 
woman. It sets out, mdeed, from the most common and 
obvious facts, but intends to reach a smgle, concrete prin- 
ciple. This is not " inductive metaphysics " ; it is a gradual 
approach to the heart of psychology. 

The investigation is not of details, but of principles ; it 
does not despise the laboratory, although the help of the 
laboratory, with regard to the deeper problems, is limited 
as compared with the results of introspective analysis. An 
artist who wishes to represent the female form can construct 
a type without actually giving formal proof by a series of 
measurements. The artist does not despise experimental 
results ; on the contrary, he regards it as a duty to gain 
experience ; but for him the collection of experimental 
knowledge is merely a starting-point for self-exploration, 
and in art self-exploration is exploration of the world. 

The psychology used in this exposition is purely philo- 
sophical, although its characteristic method, justified by the 
subject, is to set out from the most trivial details of ex- 
perience. The task of the philosopher differs from that of 


the artist in one important respect. The one deals in sym- 
bols, the other in ideas. Art and philosophy stand to one 
another as expression and meaning. The artist has breathed 
in the world to breathe it out again ; the philosopher has 
the world outside him and he has to absorb it. 

There is always something pretentious in theory ; and the 
real meaning — which in a work of art is Nature herself and 
in a philosophical system is a much condensed generalisa- 
tion, a thesis going to the root of the matter and proving 
itself — appears to strike against us harshly, almostoffensively. 
Where my exposition is anti-feminine, and that is nearly 
everywhere, men themselves will receive it with little hearti- 
ness or conviction ; their sexual egoism makes them prefer 
to see woman as they would like to have her, as they would 
like her to be. 

I need not say that I am prepared for the answer women 
will have to the judgment I have passed on their sex. My 
investigation, indeed, turns against man in the end, and 
although in a deeper sense than the advocates of women's 
rights could anticipate, assigns to man the heaviest and 
most real blame. But this will help me little and is of such 
a nature that it cannot in the smallest way rehabilitate me 
in the minds of women. 

The analysis, however, goes further than the assignment 
of blame ; it rises beyond simple and superficial phenomena 
to heights from which there opens not only a view into the 
nature of woman and its meaning in the universe, but also 
the relation to mankind and to the ultimate and most lofty 
problems. A definite relation to the problem of Culture is 
attained, and we reach the part to be played by woman in 
the sphere of ideal aims. There, also, where the problems 
of Culture and of Mankind coincide, I try not merely to 
explain but to assign values, for, indeed, in that region 
explanation and valuation are identical. 

To such a wide outlook my investigation was as it were 
driven, not deliberately steered, from the outset. The inade- 
quacy of all empirical psychological philosophy follows 
directly from empirical psychology itself. The respect for 


empirical knowledge will not be injured, but rather will the 
meaning of such knowledge be deepened, if man recognises 
in phenomena, and it is from phenomena that he sets out, 
any elements assuring him that there is something behind 
phenomena, if he espies the signs that prove the existence of 
something higher than phenomena, something that supports 
phenomena. We may be assured of such a first principle, 
although no living man can reach it. Towards such a 
principle this book presses and will not flag. 

(Within the narrow limits to which as yet the problem of 
woman and of woman's rights has been confined, there 
has been no place for the venture to reach so high a goal. 
None the less the problem is bound intimately with the 
deepest riddles of existence. It can be solved, practically 
or theoretically, morally or metaphysically, only in relation 
to an interpretation of the cosmos. 

Comprehension of the universe, or what passes for such, 
stands in no opposition to knowledge of details ; on the 
other hand all special knowledge acquires a deeper meaning 
because of it. Comprehension of the universe is self- 
creative ; it cannot arise, although the empirical knowledge 
of every age expects it, as a synthesis of however great a 
sum of empirical knowledge. 

In this book there lie only the germs of a world-scheme, 
and these are allied most closely with the conceptions of 
Plato, Kant and Christianity. I have been compelled for 
the most part to fashion for myself the scientific, psycho- 
logical, philosophical, logical, ethical groundwork. I think 
that at the least I have laid the foundations of many things 
into which I could not go fully. I call special attention to 
the defects of this part of my work because I attach more 
importance to appreciation of what I have tried to say 
about the deepest and most general problems than to the 
interest which will certainly be aroused by my special 
investigation of the problem of woman. 

The philosophical reader may take it amiss to find a 
treatment of the loftiest and ultimate problems coinciding 
with the investigation of a special problem of no great 


dignity ; I share with him this distaste. I may say, how- 
ever, that I have treated throughout the contrast between 
the sexes as the starting-point rather than the goal of my 
research. The investigation has yielded a harvest rich in 
its bearing on the fundamental problems of logic and their 
relations to the axioms of thought, on the theory of aesthetics, 
of love, and of the beautiful and the good, and on problems 
such as individuality and morality and their relations, on 
the phenomena of genius, the craving for immortality and 
Hebraism. Naturally these comprehensive interrelations aid 
the special problem, for, as it is considered from so many 
points of view, its scope enlarges. And if in this wider 
sense it be proved that culture can give only the smallest 
hope for the nature of woman, if the final results are a 
depreciation, even a negation of womanhood, there will be 
no attempt in this to destroy what exists, to humble what 
has a value of its own. Horror of my own deed would 
overtake me were I here only destructive and had I left only 
a clean sheet. Perhaps the affirmations in my book are less 
articulate, but he that has ears to hear will hear them. 

The treatise falls into two parts, the first biological- 
psychological, the second logical-philosophical. It may be 
objected that I should have done better to make two books, 
the one treating of purely physical science, the other intro- 
spective. It was necessary to be done with biology before 
turnmg to psychology. The second part treats of certain 
psychical problems in a fashion totally different from the 
method of any contemporary naturalist, and for that reason 
I think that the removal of the first part of the book would 
have been at some risk to many readers. Moreover, the 
first part of the book challenges an attention and criticism 
from natural science possible in a few places only in the 
second part, which is chiefly introspective. Because the 
second part starts from a conception of the universe that is 
anti-positivistic, many will think it unscientific (although 
there is given a strong proof against Positivism). For the 
present I must be content with the conviction that I have 
rendered its due to Biology, and that I have established 


an enduring position for non-biological, non-physiological 

'My investigation may be objected to as in certain points 
not being supported by enough proof, but I see little force 
in such an objection. For in these matters what can 
" proof " mean ? I am not dealing with mathematics or 
with the theory of cognition (except with the latter in two 
cases) ; I am dealing with empirical knowledge, and in that 
one can do no more than point to what exists ; in this 
region proof means no more than the agreement of new 
experience with old experience, and it is much the same 
whether the new phenomena have been produced experi- 
mentally by men, or have come straight from the creative 
hand of nature. Of such latter proofs my book contains 

Finally, I should like to say that my book, if I may be 
allowed to judge it, is for the most part not of a quality to 
be understood and absorbed at the first glance. I point out 
this myself, to guide and protect the reader. 

The less I found myself able in both parts of the book 
(and especially in the second) to confirm what now passes 
for knowledge, the more anxious I have been to point out 
coincidences where I found myself in agreement with what 
has already been known and said. 

I have to thank Professor Dr. Laurenz Müllner for the great 
assistance he has given me, and Professor Dr. Friedrich 
Jodl for the kindly interest he has taken in my work from 
the beginning. I am specially indebted to the kind friends 
who have helped me with correction of the proofs. 


Author's Preface to the First German Edition . . ix 



On the development of general conceptions — Male and female 
— Contradictions — Transitional forms — Anatomy and natural 
endowment — Uncertainty of anatomy 


Males and Females 5 

Embryonic neutral condition — Rudiments in the adult — 
Degrees of " gonochorism " — Principle of intermediate forms — 
Male and female — Need for typical conceptions — Resum6 — 
Early anticipations 


Male and Female Plasmas XI 

Position of sexuality — Steenstrup's view adopted — Sexual 
characters — Internal secretions — Idioplasm — Arrhenoplasm 
— Thely plasm — Variations — Proofs from the effects of cas- 
tration — Transplantation and transfusion — Organotherapy — 
Individual differences between eells — Origin of intermediate 
sexual conditions — Brain — Excess of male births — Determi- 
nation of sex — Comparative pathology 




The Laws of Sexual Attractiom ... . . «6 

Sexual preference — Probability of these being controlled by a 
law — First formula — First interpretation —Proofs — Hetero- 
stylism — Interpretation of heterostylism — Animal kingdom — 
Further laws — Second formula — Chemotaxis — Resemblances 
and differences — Goethe, " elective affinities — Marriage and 
free love — Effects on progeny 


Homo-sexuality and Pederasty 45 

Homo-sexuals as intermediate forms — Inborn or acquired, 
healthy or diseased ? — A special instance of the law of attrac- 
tion — All men have the rudiments of homo-sexuality — Friend- 
ship and sexuality — Animals — Failure of medical treatment 
— Homo-sexuality, punishment and ethics — Distinction 
between homo-sexuality and pederasty 


The Science of Character and the Science of Form . 53 

Principle of sexually intermediate forms as fundamental prin- 
ciple ol the psychology rf>f individuals — Simultaneity or 
periodicity ? — Methods of psychological investigation — 
EJcamples — Individualised education — Conventionalising— 
Parallelism between morphology and characterology — Phy- 
siognomy and the principles of psycho-physics — Method of 
the doctrine of variation — A new way of stating the prob- 
lem — Deductive morphology — Correlation — Outlook 


Emancipated Women ... 64 

The woman question— Claim for emancipation and maleness^ 
Emancipation and homo-sexuality — Sexual preferences of 
emancipated women — Physiognomy of emancipated women — 
Other celebrated womeo — Femaleness and emancipation — 



Practical rules — Genius essentially male — Movements of 
women in historical times — Periodicity — Biology and the 
conception of history — Outlook of the woman movement — 
Its fundamental error 




Man and Woman 


Bisexuality and unisexuality — Man or woman, male or female 
— Fundamental difficulty in characterology — Experiment, 
analysis of sensation and psychology — Dilthey — Conception 
of empirical character — What is and what is not the object 
of psychology — Character and individuality — Problem of 
characterology and the problem of the sexes 


Male and Female Sexuality 85 

The problem of a female psychology — Man as the interpreter 
of female psychology — Differences in the sexual impulse — 
The absorbing and liberating factors — Intensity and activity 
— Sexual irritability of women — Larger field of the sexual life 
in woman — Local diff'erences in the perception of sexuality — 
Local and periodical cessation of male sexuality — Differ- 
ences in the degrees of consciousness of sexuality 


Male and Female Consciousness 93 

Sensation and feeling — Avenarius' division into " element " 
and '• character." These inseparable at the earliest stage — 
Process of " clarification " — Presentiments — Grades of under- 
standing — Forgetting — Paths and organisation — Conception 
of " henids " — The henid as the simplest, psychical datum 
— Sexual differences in the organisation of the contents of 



the mind— Sensibility— Certainty of judgment — Developed 
consciousness as a male character 


Talent and Genius 

Genius and talent— Genius and giftedness — Methods — Com- 
prehension of many men — What is meant by comprehending 
men — Great complexity of genius — Periods in psychic hfe — 
No disparagement of famous men — Understanding and notic- 
ing — Universal consciousness of genius — Greatest distance 
from the henid stage — A higher grade of maleness — Genius 
always universal — The female devoid of genius or of hero- 
worship — Giftedness and sex 


Talent and Memory 

Organisation and the power of reproducing thoughts — Memory 
of experiences a sign of genius — Remarks and conclusions — 
Remembrance and apperception — Capacity for comparison 
and acquisition — Reasons for the masculinity of music, 
drawing and painting — Degrees of genius — Relation of genius 
to ordinary men — Autobiography — Fixed ideas — Remem- 
brance of personal creations — Continuous and discontinu- 
ance memory — Continuity and piety — Past and present — 
Past and future — Desire for immortality — Existing psycho- 
logical explanations — True origin — Inner development of 
man until death — Ontogenetic psychology or theoretical 
biography— Woman lacking in the desire for immortality — 
Further extension of relation of memory to genius — Memory 
and time — Postulate of timelessness — Value as a timeless 
quality — First law of the theory of value — Proofs — Individua- 
tion and duration constituents of value — Desire for immor- 
tality a special case — Desire for immortality in genius con- 
nected with timelessness, by his universal memory and the 
duration of his creations — Genius and history — Genius and 
nations — Genius and language — Men of action and men of 
science, not to be called men of genius — Philosophers, 
founders of reUgion and artists have genius 





Memory, Logic and Ethics . 14a 

Psychology and " psychologismus " — Value of memory — 
Theory of memory — Doctrines of practice and of association 
— Confusion with recognition —Memory peculiar to man — 
Moral significance — Lies — Transition to logic— Memory and 
the principle of identity — Memory and the syllogism — 
Woman non-logical and non-ethical — Intellectual and moral 
knowledge — The intelligible ego 


Logic, Ethics and the Ego 153 

Critics of the conception of the Ego — Hume: Lichtenberg, 
Mach — The ego of Mach and biology — Individuation and 
individuaUty — Logic and ethics as witnesses for the exist- 
ence of the ego — Logic — Laws of identity and of contraries 
— Their use and significance — Logical axioms as the laws of 
essence — Kant and Fichte — Freedom of thought and freedom 
of the will — Ethics — Relation to logic — The psychology of 
the Kantian ethics — Kant and Nietzsche 


The •' I " Problem and Genius 165 

Characterology and the belief in the *' I " — Awakening of the 
ego — Jean Paul, Novalis, Schelling — The awakening of the 
ego and the view of the world — Self -consciousness and arro- 
gance — The view of the genius to be more highly valued 
than that of other men — Final statements as to the idea of 
genius — The personality of the genius as the perfectly- con- 
scious microcosm — The naturally- synthetic activity of genius 
— Significant and symbolical — Definition of the genius in 
relation to ordinary men — Universality as freedom — Morality 
or immoraUty of genius ? — Duties towards self and others — 
What duty to another is — Criticism of moral sympathy and 
social ethics — Understanding of other men as the one require- 


ment of morality and knowledge — I and thou — Individualism 
and universalism — Morality only in monads — The man of 
greatest genius as the most moral man — Why man is faop 
voXiTiKov — Consciousness and morality — The great criminaf 
— Genius as duty and submission — Genius and crime — 
Genius and insanity — Man as his own creator 


Male and Female Psychology i86^ 

SouUessness of woman — History of this knowledge — Woman 
devoid of genius — No masculine women in the true sense — 
The unconnectedness of woman's nature due to her want of 
an ego — Revision of the henid-theory — Female " thought " 
— Idea and object — Freedom of the object — Idea and judg- 
ment — Nature of judgment — Woman and truth as a criterion 
of thought — Woman and logic — Woman non-moral, not 
immoral — Woman and soUtude — Womanly sympathy and 
modesty — The ego of women — Female vanity — Lack of true 
self-appreciation — Memory for compliments — Introspection 
and repentance — Justice and jealousy — Name and individu- 
aUty — Radical difference between male and female mental 
life — Psychology with and without soul — Is psychology a 
science ? — Soul and psychology — Problem of the influence of 
the psychical sexual characters of the male or the female 


Motherhood and Prostitution «14 

Special characterology of woman — Mother and prostitute — 
Relation of two types to the child — Woman polygamous — 
Analogies between motherhood and sexuality — Motherhood 
and the race — Maternal love ethically indifferent — The pros- 
titute careless of the race — The prostitute, the criminal and 
the conqueror — Emperor and prostitute — Motive of the pros- 
titute — Coitus an end in itself — Coquetry — The sensations of 
the woman in coitus in relation to the rest of her life — The 
prostitute as the enemy — The friend of life and its enemy — 
No prostitution amongst animals — Its origin a mystery 




Erotics and iEsxHETics 236 

Women, and the hatred of women — Erotics and sexuality — 
Platonic love — The idea of love — Beauty of women — Relation 
to sexual impulse — Love and beauty — Difference between 
aesthetics, logic and ethics — Modes of love — Projection phe- 
nomena — Beauty and morality — Nature and ethics — Natural 
and artistic beauty — Sexual love as guilt — Hate, love and 
morality — Creation of the devil — Love and sympathy — Love 
and shyness — Love and vanity — Love of woman as a means to 
an end — Relation between the child and love, the child and 
sexuahty — Love and murder — Madonna-worship — Madonna, 
a male idea, without basis in womanhood — Woman sexual, 
not erotic — Sense of beauty in women — How man acts on 
woman — The fate of the woman — Why man loves woman 


The Nature of Woman and Her Significance in the 

Universe 252 

Meaning of womanhood — Instinct for pairing or matchmaking 
— Man, and matchmaking — High valuation of coitus — Indi- 
vidual sexual impulse, a special case — Womanhood as pairing 
or universal sexuality — Organic falseness of woman — 
Hysteria — Difference between man and beast, woman and 
man — The higher and lower life — Birth and death — Freedom 
and happiness — Happiness and man — Happiness and woman 
— Woman and the problem of existence — Non-existence of 
woman — Male and female friendship — Pairing identical with 
womanhood — Why women must be regarded as human — 
Gantrast between subject — Object, matter, form, man, 
woman — Meaning of henids — Formation of woman by man 
— Significance of woman in the universe — Man as something, 
woman as nothing — Psychological problem of the fear of 
woman — Womanhood and crime — Creation of woman by 
man's crime — Woman as his own sexuality accepted by man 
— Woman as the guilt of man — What man's love of woman is. 
in its deepest significance 



Judaism 301 

Differences amongst men — Intermediate forms and racial 
anthropology — Comparison of Judaism and femaleness 
— Jud.dsm as an idea — Antisemitism — Rictiard Wagner — 
Similarities between Jews and women — Judaism in science — 
The Jew not a monad — The Jew and the Englishman — 
Natureof humour — Humour and satire — The Jewess — Deepest 
significance of Judaism — Want of faith — The Jew not non- 
mystical, yet impious — Want of earnestness, and pride — The 
Jew as opposed to the hero — Judaism and Christianity — 
Origin of Christianity — Problem of the founders of religion 
— Christ as the conqueror of the Judaism in Himself — The 
founders of religions as the greatest of men — Conquest of 
inherent Judaism necessary for all founders of reUgion — 
Judaism and the present time — Judaism, femaleness, culture 
and humanity 


Woman and Mankind 331 

The idea of humanity, and woman as the match-maker — 
Goethe-worship — Womanising of man — Virginity and purity 
— Male origin of these ideas - Failure of woman to understand 
the erotic — Woman's relation to sexuality — Coitus and love 
— Woman as the enemy of her own emancipation — Asceticism 
immoral — Sexual impulse as a want of respect — Problem of 
the Jew — Problem of the woman — Problem of slavery — Moral 
relation to women — Man as the opponent of emancipation — 
Ethical postulates — Two possibilities — The problem of 
women as the problem of humanity — Subjection of women — 
Persistence or disappearance of the human race — True 
ground of the immorality of the sexual impulse — Earthly 
paternity — Inclusion of women in the conception of humanity 
— The mother and the education of the human race — Last 

Index • 350 



All thought begins with conceptions to a certain extent 
generalised, and thence is developed in two directions. On 
the one hand, generalisations become wider and wider, 
binding together by common properties a larger and larger 
number of phenomena, and so embracing a wider field of 
the world of facts. On the other hand, thought approaches 
more closely the meeting-point of all conceptions, the 
individual, the concrete complex unit towards which w^e 
approach only by thinking in an ever-narrowing circle, and 
by continually being able to add new specific and differen- 
tiating attributes to the general idea, " thing," or " some- 
thing." It was known that fishes formed a class of the 
animal kingdom distinct from mammals, birds, or inverte- 
brates, long before it was recognised on the one hand that 
fishes might be bony or cartilaginous, or on the other that 
fishes, birds and mammals composed a group differing from 
the invertebrates by many common characters. 

The self-assertion of the mind over the world of facts 
in all its complexity of innumerable resemblances and 
differences has been compared with the rule of the struggle 
for existence among living beings. Our conceptions stand 
between us and reality. It is only step by step that we 
can control them. As in the case of a madman, we may first 
have to throw a net over the whole body so that some 
limit may be set to his struggles ; and only after the whole 
has been thus secured, is it possible to attend to the proper 
restraint of each limb. 

Two general conceptions have come down to us from 
primitive mankind, and from the earliest times have held 
our mental processes in their leash. Many a time these 



conceptions have undergone trivial corrections ; they have 
been sent to the workshop and patched in head and limbs ; 
they have been lopped and added to, expanded here, con- 
tracted there, as when new needs pierce through and 
through an old law of suffrage, bursting bond after bond. 
None the less, in spite of all amendment and alteration, we 
have still to reckon with the primitive conceptions, male 
and female. 

It is true that among those we call women are some who 
are meagre, narrow-hipped, angular, muscular, energetic, 
highly mentalised ; there are " women " with short hair and 
deep voices, just as there are " men " who are beardless and 
gossiping. We know, in fact, that there are unwomanly 
women, man-like women, and unmanly, womanish, woman- 
like men. \We assign sex to human beings from their birth 
on one character only, and so come to add contradictory 
ideas to our conceptions. Such a course is illogical/ 

In private conversation or in society, in scientific or 
general meetings, we have all taken part in frothy discus- 
sions on " Man and Woman," or on the " Emancipation of 
Women." There is a pitiful monotony in the fashion 
according to which, on such occasions, " men " and 
"women" have been treated as if, like red and white balls, 
they were alike in all respects save colour. In no case 
has the discussion been confined to an individual case, and 
as every one had different individuals in their mind, a real 
agreement was impossible. As people meant different things 
by the same words, there was a complete disharmony be- 
tween language and ideas. Is it really the case that all 
women and men are marked off sharply from each other, 
the women, on the one hand, alike in all points, the men on 
the other ? It is certainly the case that all previous treat- 
ment of the sexual differences, perhaps unconsciously, has 
implied this view. And yet nowhere else in nature is there 
such a yawning discontinuity. There are transitional forms 
between the metals and non-metals, between chemical com- 
binations and mixtures, between animals and plants, between 
phanerogams and cryptogams, and between mammals and 


birds. It is only in obedience to the most general, practical 
demand for a superficial view that we classify, make sharp 
divisions, pick out a single tune from the continuous melody 
of nature. But the old conceptions of the mind, like the 
customs of primitive commerce, become foolish in a new 
age. From the analogies I have given, the improbability 
may henceforward be taken for granted of finding in nature 
a sharp cleavage between all that is masculine on the one 
side and all that is feminine on the other ; or that a living 
being is so simple in this respect that it can be put wholly 
on one side or the other of the line. Matters are not so 

In the controversy as to the woman question, appeal has 
been made to the arbitration of anatomy, in the hope that 
by that aid a line could be drawn between those characters 
of males or females that are unalterable because inborn, 
and those that are acquired. (It was a strange adventure to 
attempt to decide the differences between the natural 
endowment of men and women on anatomical results ; 
to suppose that if all other investigation failed to establish 
the difference, the matter could be settled by a few more 
grains of brain-weight on the one side.) ^However, the 
answer of the anatomists is clear enough, whether it refer 
to the brain or to any other portion of the body ; absolute 
sexual distinctions between all men on the one side and all 
women on the other do not exist) Although the skeleton of 
the hand of most men is different from that of most women, 
yet the sex cannot be determined with certainty either from 
the skeleton or from an isolated part with its muscles, 
tendons, skin, blood and nerves. The same is true of the 
chest, sacrum or skull. And what are we to say of the 
pelvis, that part of the skeleton in which, if anywhere, striking 
sexual differences exist ? It is almost universally believed that 
in the one case the pelvis is adapted for the act of parturition, 
in the other case is not so adapted. And yet the character 
of the pelvis cannot be taken as an absolute criterion of sex. 
There are to be found, and the wayfarer knows this as well 
as the anatomist, many women with narrow male-like pelves, 


and many men with the broad pelves of women. Are we 
then to make nothing of sexual differences ? That would ; 
imply, almost, that we could not distinguish between men 
and women. 

From what quarter are we to seek help in our problem ? 
The old doctrine is insufficient, and yet we cannot make 
shift without it. If the received ideas do not suffice, it 
must be our task to seek out new and better guides. 



In the widest treatment of most living things, a blunt separa- 
tion of them into males or females no longer suffices for the 
known facts. The limitations of these conceptions have 
been felt more or less by many writers. The first purpose 
of this work is to make this point clear. 

I agree with other authors who, in a recent treatment of 
the facts connected with this subject, have taken as a start- 
ing-point what has been established by embryology regard- 
ing the existence in human beings, plants, and animals of 
an embryonic stage neutral as regards sex. 

In the case of a human embryo of less than five weeks, 
for instance, the sex to which it would afterwards beiong 
cannot be recognised. In the fifth week of fcetal life pro- 
cesses begin which, by the end of the fifth month of preg- 
nancy, have turned the genital rudiments, at first alike m 
the sexes, into one sex and have determined the sex of the 
whole organism. The details of these processes need not 
be described more fully here. It can be shown that how- 
ever distinctly unisexual an adult plant, animal or human 
being may be, there is always a certain persistence of the 
bisexual character, <never a complete disappearance of the 
characters of the andeveloped sex) Sexual differentiation, in 
fact, is never complete. All the peculiarities of the male sex 
may be present in the female in some form, however weakly 
developed ; and so also the sexual characteristics of the 
woman persist in the man, although perhaps they are not 
so completely rudimentary. The characters of the other 
sex occur in the one sex in a vestigial form. Thus, in the 


case of human beings, in which our interest is greatest, to 
take an example, it will be found that the most womanly 
woman has a growth of colourless hair, known as "lanugo" 
in the position of the male beard ; and in the most manly 
man there are developed under the skin of the breast masses 
of glandular tissue connected with the nipples. ^This con- 
dition of things has been minutely investij^ated in the true 
genital organs and ducts, the region called the " urino-geni- 
tal tract," and in each sex there has been found a complete 
but rudimentary set of parallels to the organs of the other 

These embryological conclusions can be brought into 
relation with another set of facts. Haeckel has used the 
word " gonochorism " for the separation ol the sexes, and 
in different classes and groups of creatures different 
degrees of gonochorism may be noted. Different kmds 
of animals and plants may be distinguished by the extent 
to which the characters of one sex are rudimentary in the 
other. The most extreme case of sexual differentiation, the 
sharpest gonochorism, occurs in sexual dimorphism, that is 
to say, in that condition of affairs in which (as for instance 
in some water-fleas) the males and females of the same 
species differ as much or even more from each other as the 
members of different species, or genera. There is not so 
sharply marked gonochorism amongst vertebrates as in the 
case of Crustacea or insects. Amongst the former there does 
not exist a distinction betwee i m des and females so complete 
as to reach sexual dimorphis n. A condition much more 
frequent amongst them is the occurrence of forms inter- 
mediate in regard to sex, what is called abnormal hermaph- 
roditism ; whilst in certain fishes hermaphroditism is the 
normal condition. 

I must point out here that it must not be assumed that 
there exist only extreme males with scanty remnants of the 
female condition, extreme females with traces of the male, 
hermaphrodite or transitional forms, and wide gaps between 
these conditions. I am dealing specially with human beings, 
but what I have to say of them might be applied, with more 


or less modification, to nearly all creatures in which sexual 
reproduction takes place. 

Amongst human beings the state of the case is as follows : 
There exist all sorts of intermediate conditions between male 
and female — sexual transitional forms. In physical inquiries 
an " ideal gas " is assumed, that is to say, a gas, the be- 
haviour of which follows the law of Boyle-Guy-Lussac 
exactly, although, in fact, no such gas exists, and laws are 
deduced from this so that the deviations from the ideal laws 
may be established in the case of actually existing gases. In 
the same fashion we may suppose the existence of an ideal 
man, M, and of an ideal woman, W, as sexual types, 
although these types do not actually exist. Such types not 
only can be constructed, but must be constructed. As in 
art so in science, the real purpose is to reach the type, the 
Platonic Idea. The science of physics investigates the 
behaviour of bodies that are absolutely rigid or absolutely 
elastic, in the full knowledge that neither the one nor the 
other actually exists. The intermediate conditions actually 
existing between the two absolute states of matter serve 
merely as a starting-point for investigation of the *' types" 
and in the practical application of the theory are treated 
as mixtures and exhaustively analysed. So also there 
exist only the intermediate stages between absolute males 
and females, the absolute conditions never presenting them- 

Let it be noted clearly that I am discussing the existence 
not merely of embryonic sexual neutrality, but of a per- 
manent bisexual condition. Nor am I taking into con- 
sideration merely those intermediate sexual conditions, 
those bodily or psychical hermaphrodites upon which, up 
to the present, attention has been concentrated. In 
^'another respect my conception is new. Until now, in deal- 
ing with sexual intermediates, only hermaphrodites were 
considered ; as if, to use a physical analogy, there were in 
between the two extremes a single group of intermediate 
forms, and not an intervening tract equally beset with stages 
in different degrees of transition. 


The fact is that males and females are like two sub- 
stances combined in different proportions, but with either 
element never wholly missing. We find, so to speak, 
never either a man or a woman, but only the male con- 
dition and the female condition. Any individual, " A " or 
" B," is never to be designated merely as a man or a 
woman, but by a formula showing that it is a composite 
of male and female characters in different proportions, for 
instance, as follows : 

la'W Xß'M 

always remembering that each of the factors a, a, ß, ß' must 
be greater than o and less than unity. 

Further proofs of the validity of this conception are 
numerous, and I have already given, in the preface, a 
few of the most general. We may recall the existence of 
" men " with female pelves and female breasts, with narrow 
waists, overgrowth of the hair of the head ; or of 
" women " with small hips and flat breasts, with deep bass 
voices and beards (the presence of hair on the chin is 
more common than is supposed, as women naturally are at 
pains to remove it ; I am not speaking of the special growth 
that often appears on the faces of women who have reached 
middle age). All such peculiarities, many of them coin- 
ciding in the same individuals, are well known to doctors 
and anatomists, although their general significance has not 
been understood. 

One of the most striking proofs of the view that I have 
been unfolding is presented by the great range of numerical 
variation to be found where sexual characters have been 
measured either by the same or by different anthropological 
or anatomical workers. The figures obtained by measuring 
female characters do not begin where those got from males 
leave off, but the two sets overlap. The more obvious this 
uncertainty in the theory of sexual intermediate forms may 
be, the more is it to be deplored in the interests of true 
science. Anatomists and anthropologists of the ordinary 


:ype have by no means striven against the scientific repre- 
sentation of the sexual types, but as for the most part they 
regarded measurements as the best indications, they were 
overwhelmed with the number of exceptions, and thus, so 
far, measurement has brought only vague and indefinite 

The course of statistical science, which marks off our in- 
dustrial age from earlier times, although perhaps on account 
of its distant relation to mathematics it has been regarded 
as specially scientific, has in reality hindered the progress of 
knowledge. It has dealt with averages, not with types. It 
has not been recognised that in pure, as opposed to applied, 
science it is the type that must be studied. And so those 
who are concerned with the type must turn their backs on 
the methods and conclusions of current morphology and 
physiology. The real measurements and investigations of 
details have yet to be made. Those that now exist are 
inapplicable to true science. 

Knowledge must be obtained of male and female by means 
of a right construction of the ideal man and the ideal woman, 
using the word ideal in the sense of typical, excluding judg- 
ment as to value. When these types have been recognised 
and built up we shall be in a position to consider individual 
cases, and their analysis as mixtures in different proportions 
will be neither difficult not fruitless. 

I shall now give a summary of the contents of this chap- 
ter. Living beings cannot be described bluntly as of one 
sex or the other. The real world from the point of view of 
sex may be regarded as swaying between two points, no 
actual individual being at either point, but somewhere be- 
tween the two. The task of science is to define the position 
of any individual between these two points. The absolute 
conditions at the two extremes are not metaphysical abstrac- 
tions above or outside the world of experience, but their 
construction is necessary as a philosophical and practical 
mode of describing the actual world. 

A presentiment of this bisexuality of life (derived from the 
actual absence of complete sexual differentiation) is very old. 


Traces of it may be found in Chinese myths, but it became 
active in Greek thought. We may recall the mythical per- 
sonification of bisexuality in the Hermaphroditos, the 
narrative of Aristophanes in the Platonic dialogue, or in later 
times the suggestion of a Gnostic sect (Theophites) that 
primitive man was a " man-woman." 



The first thing expected of a book like this, the avowed 
object of which is a complete revision of facts hitherto 
accepted, is that it should expound a new and satisfactory 
account of the anatomical and physiological characters of 
the sexual types. Quite apart from the abstract question as 
to whether the complete survey of a subject so enormous 
is not beyond the powers of one individual, I must at once 
disclaim any intention of making the attempt. I do not 
pretend to have made sufficient independent investigations 
in a field so wide, nor do I think such a review necessary 
for the purpose of this book. Nor is it necessary to give a 
compilation of the results set out by other authors, for 
Havelock Ellis has already done this very well. Were I to 
attempt to reach the sexual types by means of the probable 
inferences drawn from his collected results, my work would 
be a mere hypothesis and science might have been spared a 
new book. The arguments in this chapter, therefore, will 
be of a rather formal and general nature ; they will relate to 
biological principles, but to a certain extent will lay stress 
on the need for a closer investigation of certain definite 
points, work which must be left to the future, but which 
may be rendered more easy by my indications. 

Those who know little of Biology may scan this section 
hastily, and yet run little risk of failing to understand what 

The doctrine of the existence of different degrees of 
masculinity and femininity may be treated, in the first place, 
on purely anatomical lines. Not only the anatomical form, 


but the anatomical position of male and female characters 
must be discussed. The examples already given of irxual 
differences in other parts of the body showed that sexuality 
is not limited to the genital organs and glands. But where 
are the limits to be placed ? Do they not reach beyond the 
primary and secondary sexual characters ? In other words, 
where does sex display itself, and where is it without 
influence ? 

Many points came to light in the last decade, which bring 
fresh support to a theory first put forward in 1840, but 
which at the time found little support since it appeared to 
be in direct opposition to facts held as established alike 
by the author of the theory and by his opponents. The 
theory in question, first suggested by the zoologist J. J. S. 
Steenstrup, of Copenhagen, ^^but since supported by many 
others, is that sexual characters are present in every part 
of the body.) 

Ellis has collected the results of investigations on almost 
every tissue of the body, which serve to show the universal 
presence of sexual differences. It is plain that there is a 
striking difference in the coloration of the typical male 
and female. This fact establishes the existence of sexual 
differences in the skin (cutis) and in the blood-vessels, and 
also in the bulk of the colouring-matter in the blood and in 
the number of red corpuscles to the cubic centimetre of the 
blood fluid. Bischoff and Rudinger have proved the exist- 
ence of sexual differences in brain weight, and more recently 
Justus and Alice Gaule have obtained a similar result with 
regard to such vegetative organs as the liver, lungs and 
spleen. In fact, all parts of a woman, although in different 
degrees in different zones, have a sexual stimulus for the 
male organism, and similarly all parts of the male have their 
effect on the female. 

The direct logical inference may be drawn, and is sup- 
ported by abundant facts, that every cell in the body is 
sexually characteristic and has its definite sexual signifi- 
cance. I may now add to the principle already laid down in 
this book, of the universal presence of sexually intermediate 


conditions, that these conditions may present different 
degrees of development. Such a conception of the exist- 
ence of different degrees of development in sexuality makes 
it easy to understand cases of false hermaphroditism or even 
of the true hermaphroditism, which, since the time of 
Steenstrup, has been established for so many plants and 
animals, although not certainly in the case of man. Steen- 
strup wrote : " If the sex of an animal has its seat only in 
the genital organs, then one might think it possible for an 
animal really to be bisexual, if it had at the same time two 
sets of sexual organs. But sex is not limited to one region, 
it manifests itself not merely by the presence of certain 
organs ; it pervades the whole being and shows itself in 
every point. In a male body, everything down to the 
smallest part is male, however much it may resemble the 
correspondmg lemale part, and so also in the female the 
smallest part is female. The presence of male and female 
sexual organs in the same body would make the body 
bisexual only if both sexes ruled the whole body and made 
themselves manifest in every point, and such a condition, as 
the manifestations of the sexes are opposing forces, would 
result simply in the negation of sex in the body in question." 
If, however, the principle of the existence of innumerable 
sexually transitional conditions be extended to all the cells 
of the body, and empirical knowledge supports such a view, 
Steenstrup's difficulty is resolved, and hermaphroditism no 
longer appears to be unnatural. There may be conceived 
for every cell all conditions, from complete masculinity 
through all stages of diminishing masculinity to its com- 
plete absence and the consequent presence of complete 
femininity. Whether we are to think of these gradations in 
the scale of sexual differentiation as depending on two real 
substances united in different proportions, or as a single 
kind of protoplasm modified in different ways (as, for 
instance, by different spatial dispositions of its molecules), 
it were wiser not to guess. The first conception is difficult 
to apply physiologically ; it is extremely difficult to imagine 
that two sets of conditions should be able to produce the 


essential physiological similarities of two bodies, one with a 
male and the other a female diathesis. The second view 
recalls too vividly certain unfortunate speculations on 
heredity. Perhaps both views are equally far from the 
truth. At present empirical knowledge does not enable us 
to say wherein the masculinity or the femininity of a cell 
really lies, or to define the histological, molecular or 
chemical differences which distinguish every cell of a male 
from every cell of a female. Without anticipating any dis- 
covery of the future (it is plain already, however, that the 
specific phenomena of living matter are not going to be 
referred to chemistry and physics), it may be taken for 
granted that individual cells possess sexuality in different 
degrees quite apart from the sexuality of the whole body. 
Womanish men usually have the skin softer, and in them 
the cells of the male organs have a lessened power of 
division upon which depends directly the poorer develop- 
ment of the male macroscopic characters. 

The distribution of sexual characters affords an important 
proof of the appearance of sexuality in different degrees. 
Such characters (at least in the animal kingdom) may be 
arranged according to the strength of their exciting influ- 
ence on the opposite sex. To avoid confusion, I shall 
make use of John Hunter's terms for classifying sexual 
characters. The primordial sexual characters are the male 
and female genital glands (testes and epididymis, ovaries 
and epoophoron) ; the primary sexual characters are the 
internal appendages of the sexual glands (vasa deferential 
vesiculae seminales, oviducts and uterus), which may have 
sexual characters quite distinct from those of the glands 
and the external sexual organs, according to which alone 
the sex of human beings is reckoned at birth (sometimes 
quite erroneously, as I shall show) and their consequent fate 
in life decided. After the primary, come all those sexual 
characters not directly necessary to reproduction. Such 
secondary sexual characters are best defined as those which 
begin to appear at puberty, and which cannot be developed 
except under the influence on the system of the internal 


secretions of the genital glands. Examples of these are the 
beards in men, the luxuriant growth of hair in women, the 
i development of the mammary glands, the character of the 
voice. As a convenient mode of treatment, and for practical 
rather than theoretical reasons, certain inherited characters, 
such as the development of muscular strength or of mental 
obstinacy may be reckoned as tertiary sexual characters. 
Under the designation "quaternary sexual characters" may 
be placed such accessories as relative social position, differ- 
ence in habit, mode of livelihood, the smoking and drinking 
habit in man, and the dom -stic duties of women. All these 
characters possess a- potent and direct sexual influence, and 
in my opinion often may be reckoned with the tertiary 
characters or even with the secondary. \This classification 
of sexual characters must not be taken as implying a defi- 
nite chain of sequence, nor must it be assumed that the 
mental sexual characters either determine the bodily charac- 
ters or are determined by them in some causal nexus. The 
classification relates only to the strength of the exciting 
influence on the other sex, to the order in time in which 
this influence is exerted, and to the degree of certainty with 
which the extent of the influence may be predicted.^ 

Study of secondary sexual characters is bound up with 
consideration of the eflfect of internal secretions of the 
genital glands on general metabolism. The relation of this 
influence or its absence (as in the case of artificially cas- 
trated animals) has been traced out in the degree of de- 
velopment of the secondary characters. The internal 
secretions, however, undoubtedly have an influence on all 
the cells of the body. This is clearly shown by the changes 
which occur at puberty in all parts of the body, and not only 
in the s ;■- of the secondary sexual characters. As a matter 
of fact, ! internal secretions of all the glands must be 
regard"(^ r iffecting all the tissues. 

The inter'ial secretions of the genital glands must be 
regarded as completing the sexuality of the individual. 
Every eel' must be considered as possessing an original 
sexuality, 10 which the influence of the internal secretion in 


sufficient quantity is the final determining condition under 
the influence of which the cell acquires its final determinate 
character as male or female. 

The genital glands are the organs in which the sex of the 
individual is most obvious, and in the component cells of 
which it is most conspicuously visible. At the same time it 
must be noted that the distinguishing characters of the 
species, race and family to which an organism belongs are 
also best marked in the genital cells. Just as Steenstrup, on 
the one hand, was right in teaching that sex extends all over 
the body and is not confined to the genital organs, so, on 
the other hand, Naegeli, de Vries, Oskar Hertwig and others 
have propounded the important theory, and supported it 
by weighty arguments, that every cell in a multi-cellular 
organism possesses a combination of the characters of its 
species and race, but that these characters are, as it were, 
specially condensed in the sexual cells. Probably this view 
of the case will come to be accepted by all investigators, 
since every living being owes its origin to the cleavage and 
multiplication of a single cell. 

Many phenomena, amongst which may be noticed 
specially experiments on the regeneration of lost parts and 
investigations into the chemical differences between the 
corresponding tissues of nearly allied animals, have led the 
investigators to whom I have just referred to conceive the 
existence of an " Idioplasm," which is the bearer of the 
specific characters, and which exists in all the cells of a 
multi-cellular animal, quite apart from the purposes of re- 
production. In a similar fashion I have been led to the 
conception of an " Arrhenoplasm " (male plasm) and a 
" Thelyplasm " (female plasm) as the two modes in which 
the idioplasm of every bisexual organism may appear, and 
which are to be considered, because of reasons which I 
shall explain, as ideal conditions between which the actual 
conditions always lie. Actually existing protoplasm is to be 
thought of as moving from an ideal arrhenoplasm through 
a real or imaginary indifferent condition (true hermaphro- 
ditism) towards a protoplasm that approaches, but never 


actually reaches, an ideal thelyplasm. This conception 
brings to a point what I have been trying to say. I apolo- 
gise for the new terms, but they are more than devices to 
call attention to a new idea. 

The proof that every single organ, and further, that every 
single cell possesses a sexuality lying somewhere between 
arrhenoplasm and thelyplasm, and further, that every cell 
received an original sexual endowment definite in kind and 
degree, is to be found in the fact that even in the same 
organism the different cells do not always possess their 
sexuality identical in kind and degree. In fact each cell of 
a body neither contains the same proportion of M and 
W nor is at the same approximation to arrhenoplasm or 
thelyplasm ; similar cells of the same body may indeed lie 
on different sides of the sexually neutral point. If, instead 
of writing "masculinity" and "femininity" at length, we 
choose signs to express these, and without any malicious 
intention choose the positive sign ( + ) for M and the 
negative ( — ) for W, then our proposition may be ex- 
pressed as follows : The sexuality of the different cells of 
the same organism differs not only in absolute quantity but 
is to be expressed by a different sign. There are many men 
with a poor growth of beard and a weak muscular develop- 
ment who are otherwise t)^ically males ; and so also many 
women with badly developed breasts are otherwise typically 
womanly. There are womanish men with strong beards 
and masculine women with abnormally short hair who 
none the less possess well-developed breasts and broad 
pelves. I know several men who have the upper part of 
the thigh of a female with a normally male under part, and 
some with the right hip of a male and the left of a female. 
In most cases these local variations of the sexual character 
affect both sides of the body, although of course it is only in 
ideal bodies that there is complete symmetry about the 
middle line. The degree to which sexuality displays itself, 
however, as, for instance, in the growth of hair, is very often 
unsymmetrical. This want of uniformity (and the sexual 
manifestations never show complete uniformity) can hardly 



depend on differences of the internal secretion ; for the 
blood goes to all the organs, having in it the same amount 
of the internal secretion; although different organs may 
receive different quantities of blood, in all normal cases its 
quality and quantity being proportioned to the needs of the 

Were we not to assume as the cause of these variations the 
presence of a sexual determinant generally different in every 
cell but stable from its earliest embryonic development, then 
it would be simple to describe the sexuality of any individual 
by estimating how far its sexual glands conformed to the 
normal type of its sex, and the facts would be much simpler 
than they really are. Sexuality, however, cannot be regarded 
as occurring in an imaginary normal quantity distributed 
equally all over an individual so that the sexual character of 
any cell would be a measure of the sexual characters of 
any other cells. Whilst, as an exception, there may occur 
wide differences in the sexual characters of different cells 
or organs of the same body, still as a rule there is the same 
specific sexuality for all the cells. In fact it may be taken 
as certain that an approximation to a complete uniformity 
of sexual character over the whole body is much more 
common than the tendency to any considerable divergences 
amongst the different organs or still more amongst the 
different cells. How far these possible variations may go 
can be determined only by the investigation of individual 

There is a popular view, dating back to Aristotle and 
supported by many doctors and zoologists, that the castra- 
tion of an animal is followed by the sudden appearance of 
the characters of the other sex ; if the gelding of a male 
were to bring about the appearance of female characteristics 
then doubt would be thrown on the existence in every cell 
of a primordial sexuality independent of the genital glands. 
The most recent experimental results of Sellheim and 
Foges, however, have shown that the type of a gelded male 
is distinct from the female type, that gelding does not 
induce the feminine character. It is better to avoid too 


far-reaching and radical conclusions on this matter ; it may 
be that a second latent gland of the other sex may awake 
into activity and sexually dominate the deteriorating organ- 
ism after the removal or atrophy of the normal gland. 
There are many cases (too readily interpreted as instances 
of complete assumption of the male character) in which 
after the involution of the female sexual glands at the 
climacteric the secondary sexual characters of the male are 
acquired. Instances of this are the beard of the human 
grandam, the occasional appearance of short antlers in old 
does, or of a cock's plumage in an old hen. But such 
changes are practically never seen except in association 
with senile decay or with operative interference. 

In the case of certain crustacean parasites of fish, how- 
ever (the genera Cymothoa, Anilocra and Nerocila of the 
family Cytnothoidce), the changes I have just mentioned are 
part of the normal life history. These creatures are her- 
maphrodites of a peculiar kind ; the male and female organs 
co-exist in them but are not functional at the same period. 
A sort of protandry exists ; each individual exercises first 
the functions of a male and afterwards those of the female. 
During the time of their activity as males they possess 
ordinary male reproductive organs which are cast off when 
the female genital ducts and brood organs develop. That 
similar conditions may exist in man has been shown by 
those cases of "eviratio" and " effeminatio " which the 
sexual pathology of the old age of men has brought to 
light. So also we cannot deny altogether the actual occur- 
rence of a certain degree of effeminacy when the crucial 
operation of extirpation of the human testes has been 
performed.* On the other hand, the fact that the relation 
is not universal or inevitable, that the castration of an 
individual does not certainly result in the appearance of the 
characters of the other sex, may be taken as a proof that 
it is necessary to assume the original presence through- 

* So also in the opposite case ; it cannot be wholly denied that 
ovariotomy is followed by the appearance of masculine characters. 


out the body of cells determined by arrhenoplastn or 

The possession by every cell of primitive sexuality on 
which the secretion of the sexual glands has little effect 
might be shown further by consideration of the effects of 
grafting male genital glands on female organisms. For such 
an experiment to be accurate it would be necessary that the 
animal from which the testis was to be transplanted should 
be as near akin as possible to the female on which the testis 
was to be grafted, as, for instance, in the case of a brother and 
sister ; the idioplasm of the two should be as alike as possible. 
In this experiment much would depend on limiting the 
conditions of the experiment as much as possible so that 
the results would not be confused by conflicting factors. 
Experiments made in Vienna have shown that when an 
exchange of the ovaries has been made between unrelated 
female animals (chosen at random) the atrophy of the 
ovaries follows, but that there is no failure of the secondary 
sexual characters {e.g., degeneration of the mammae). More- 
over, when the genital glands of an animal are removed from 
their natural position and grafted in a new position in the 
same animal (so that it still retains its own tissues) the full 
development of the secondary sexual characters goes on 
precisely as if there had been no interference, at least in 
cases where the operation is successful. The failure of the 
transplantation of ovaries from one animal to another may 
be due to the absence of family relationship between the 
tissues ; the influence of the idioplasm probably is of primary 

These experiments closely resemble those made in the 
transfusion of alien blood. It is a practical rule with 
surgeons that when a dangerous loss of blood has to be 
made good, the blood required for transfusion must be 
obtained from an individual not only of the same species 
and family, but also of the same sex as that of the patient. 
The parallel between transfusion and transplantation is at 
once evident. If I am correct in my views, when surgeons 
seek to transfuse blood, instead of being content with injec- 


tions of normal salt solution they must take the blood not 
merely from one of the same species, family and sex, but 
of a similar degree of masculinity or femininity. 

Experiments on transfusion not only lend support to my 
belief in the existence of sex characters in the blood cor- 
puscles, but they furnish additional explanations of the 
failure of experiments in grafting ovaries or testis on indi- 
viduals of the opposite sex. The internal secretions of the 
genital glands are operative only in their appropriate en- 
t'ironment of arrhenoplasm or thelyplasm. 

In this connection, I may say a word as to the curative 
value of organotherapy. Although, as I have shown to be 
the case, the transplantation of freshly extirpated genital 
glands into subjects of the opposite sex has no effect, it does 
not follow that the injection of the ovarian secretion into 
the blood of a male might not have a most injurious effect. 
On the other hand, the principle of organotherapy has been 
opposed on the ground that organic preparations procured 
from non-allied species could not possibly be expected to 
yield good results. It is more than likely that the medical 
exponents of organotherapy have lost many valuable dis- 
coveries in healing because of their neglect of the biological 
theory of idioplasm. 

The theory of an idioplasm, the presence of which gives 
the specific race characters to those tissues and cells which 
have lost the reproductive faculty, is by no means generally 
accepted. But at the least all must admit that the race 
characters are collected in the genital glands, and that if 
experiments with extracts from these are to provide more 
than a good tonic, the nearest possible relationship between 
the animals experimented upon must be observed. Parallel 
experiments might be made as to the effect of transplantation 
of the genital glands and injections of their extracts on two 
castrated cocks of the same strain. For instance, the effects 
of the transplantation of the testes of one of them into any 
other part of its own body or peritoneal cavity or into any 
similar part of the other cock might be compared with the 
efifects of intravenous injection of testis extract of the one on 


the other. Such parallel investigations would also increase 
our knowledge as to the most suitable media and quantities 
of the extracts. It is also to be desired, from the theoretical 
point of view, that knowledge may be gained as to whether 
the internal secretion of the genital glands enters into 
chemical union with the protoplasm of the cells or whether 
it acts as a physiological stimulus independent of the 
quantity supplied. So far we know nothing that would 
enable us to come to a definite opinion on this point. 

The limited influence of the internal secretions of the 
sexual glands in formmg the sexual characters must be 
realised to warrant the theory of a primary, generally slight, 
difference in each cell, but still determinate sexual influence.* 
If the existence of distinct graduations of these primary 
characteristics in all the cells and tissues can be recognised, 
there follow many important and far-reaching conclusions. 
The individual egg-cells and spermatozoa may be found to 
possess different degrees of maleness and femaleness, not 
only in different individuals, but in the ovaries and testes 
of the same individual, especially at different times ; for 
instance, the spermatozoa differ in size and activity. We 
are still quite ignorant on these matters, as no one has 
worked on the requisite lines. 

It is extremely interesting to recall in this connection that 
many times different investigators have observed in the 
testes of amphibia not only the different stages in the 
development of spermatozoa, but mature eggs. This inter- 
pretation of the observations was at first disputed, and it 
was suggested that the presence of unusually large cells in 
the tubes of the testes had given rise to the error, but the 
matter has now been fully confirmed. Moreover, in these 
Amphibia, sexually intermediate conditions are very common, 
and this should lead us to be careful in making statements 
as to the uniform presence of arrhenoplasm or thelyplasm 
in a body. The methods of assigning sex to a new-born 

* The existence of sexual distinctions before puberty shows that 
the power of the internal secretions of the sexual glands does not 
account for everything. 


infant seem most unsatisfactory in the light of these 
facts. If the child is observed to possess a male organ, even 
although there may be complete epi- or hypo-spadism, or a 
double failure of descent of the testes, it is at once described 
as a boy and is henceforth treated as one, although in other 
parts of the body, for instance in the brain, the sexual 
determinant may be much nearer thelyplasm than arrheno- 
plasm. The so> »ner a more exact method of sex discrimina- 
tion is insisted upon the better. 

As a result of these long mductions and deductions we 
may rest assured that all the cells possess a definite primary 
sexual determinant which mu-^t not be assumed to be alike 
or nearly alike throughout the same body. Every cell, every 
cell-complex, and every organ have their distinctive indices 
on the scale between thelyplasm and arrhenoplasm. For 
the exact definition of the sex, an estimation of the indices 
over the whole body would be necessary. I should be con- 
tent to bear the blame of all the theoretical and practical 
errors in this book did I believe myself to have made the 
working out of a single case possible. 

Differences in the primary sexual determinants, together 
with the varying internal secretions (which differ in quantity 
and quality in different individuals) produce the pheno- 
mena of sexually intermediate forms. Arrhenoplasm and 
thelyplasm, in their countless modifications, are the micro- 
scopic agencies which, in co-operation with the internal 
secretions, give rise to the macroscopic differences cited m 
the last chapter. 

If the correctness of the conclusions so far stated maybe 
assumed, the necessity is at once evident for a whole series 
of anatomical, physiological, histological and histo-chemical 
investigations into those differences between male and female 
types, in the structure and function of the individual organs 
by which tue dowers of arrhenoplasm and thelyplasm express 
themselves in the tissues. The knowledge we possess at the 
present time on these matters comes from the study o 
averages, but averages fail to satisfy the modern statistician, 
and their scientific value is very small. Investigations into 


the sex-differences in the weight of the brain, for instance, 
have so far proved very little, probably because no care 
was taken to choose typical conditions, the assignment of 
sex being dependent on baptismal certificates or on super- 
ficial glances at the outward appearance. As if every 
" John " or " Mary " were representative of their sexes 
because they had been dubbed " male " and " female ! " It 
would have been well, even if exact physiological data were 
thought unnecessary, at least to make certain as to a few 
facts as to the general condition of the body, which might 
serve as guides to the male or female condition, such as, for 
instance, the distance between the great trochanters, the iliac 
spines, and so forth, for a sexual harmony in the different 
parts of the body is certainly more common than great 
sexual divergence. 

This source of error, the careless acceptance of sexually 
intermediate forms as representative subjects for measure- 
ment, has maimed other investigations and seriously retarded 
the attainment of genuine and useful results. Those, for 
instance, who wish to speculate about the cause of the 
superfluity of male births have to reckon with this source of 
error. In a special way this carelessness will revenge itself 
on those who are investigating the ultimate causes that de- 
termine sex. Until the exact degree of maleness or female- 
ness of all the living individuals of the group on which he 
is working can be determined, the investigator will have 
reason to distrust both his methods and his hypotheses. If 
he classify sexually intermediate forms, for instance, accord- 
ing to their external appearance, as has been done hitherto, 
he will come across cases which fuller investigation would 
show to be on the wrong side of his results, whilst other 
instances, apparently on the wrong side, would right them- 
selves. Without the conception of an ideal male and an 
ideal female, he lacks a standard according to which to 
estimate his real cases, and he gropes forward to a super- 
ficial and doubtful conclusion. Maupas, for instance, who 
made experiments on the determination of sex in Hydatina 
senta, a Rotifer, found that there was always an experimental 


error of from three to five per cent. At low temperatures 
the production of females was expected, but always about 
the above proportion of males appeared ; so also at the 
higher temperatures a similar proportion of females 
appeared. It is probable that this error was due to sexually 
intermediate stages, arrhenoplasmic females at the high 
temperature, thelyplastic males at the low temperature. 
Where the problem is more complicated, as in the case 
of cattle, to say nothing of human beings, the process of 
investigation will yield still less harmonious results, and the 
correction of the interpretation which will have to be made 
by allowing for the disturbance due to the existence of 
sexually intermediate forms will be much more difficult. 

The study of comparative pathology of the sexual types is 
as necessary as their morphology, physiology and develop- 
ment. In this region of inquiry as elsewhere, statistics 
would yield certain results. Diseases manifestly much more 
abundant in one sex might be described as peculiar to or 
idiopathic of thelyplasm or arrhenoplasm. Myxoedema, for 
instance, is idiopathic of the female, hydrocele of the male. 

But no statistics, however numerous and accurate, can be 
regarded as avoiding a source of theoretical error until it 
has been shown from the nature of any particular affection 
dealt with that it is in indissoluble, functional relation with 
maleness or femaleness. The theory of such associated 
diseases must supply a reason why they occur almost ex- 
clusively in the one sex, that is to say, in the phrase of this 
treatise, why they are thelyplasmic or arrhenoplasmic. 



Carmen : 

" L'amour est un oiseau rebelle, 
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser : 
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on I'appelle 
S'il lui convient de refuser. 
Rien n'y fait ; menace ou priere : 
L'un parle, I'autre se tait ; 
Et c'est I'autre que je prefere ; 
II n'a rien dit, mais il me plait. 

L'amour est enfant de Boheme 
II n'a jamais connu de loi." 

It has been recognised from time immemorial that, in all 
forms of sexually differentiated life, there exists an attrac- 
tion between males and females, between the male and 
the female, the object of which is procreation. But as the 
male and the female are merely abstract conceptions which 
never appear in the real world, we cannot speak of sexual 
attraction as a simple attempt of the masculine and the 
feminine to come together. The theory which I am develop- 
ing must take into account all the facts of sexual relations if 
it is to be complete ; indeed, if it is to be accepted instead of 
the older views, it must give a better interpretation of all 
these sexual phenomena. My recognition of the fact that M 
and F (maleness and femaleness) are distributed in the living 
world in every possible proportion has led me to the dis- 
covery of an unknown natural law, of a law not yet sus- 
pected by any philosopher, a law of sexual attraction. As 


observations on human beings first led me to my results, I. 
shall begin with this side of the subject. 

Every one possesses a definite, individual taste of his own 
with regard to the other sex. If we compare the portrait of 
the women which some famous man has been known to 
love, we shall nearly always find that they are all closely 
alike, the similarity being most obvious in the contour 
(more precisely in the " figure ") or in the face, but on closer 
examination being found to extend to the minutest details, 
ad unguem, to the finger-tips. It is precisely the same with 
every one else. So, also, every girl who strongly attracts a 
man recalls to him the other girls he has loved before.'« 
We see another side of the same phenomenon when we re- 
call how often we have said of some acquaintance or 
another, " I can't imagine how that type of woman 
pleases him." Darwin, in the " Descent of Man," collected 
many instances of the existence of this individuality of the 
sexual taste amongst animals, and I shall be able to show 
that there are analogous phenomena even amongst plants. 

(Sexual attraction is nearly always, as in the case of gravi- 
tation, reciprocal./ Where there appear to be exceptions to 
this rule, there is nearly always evidence of the presence of 
special influences which have been capable of preventing 
the direct action of the special taste, which is almost always 
reciprocal, or which have left an unsatisfied craving, if the 
direct taste were not allowed its play. 

The common saying, " Waiting for Mr. Right," or state- 
ments such as that " So-and-so are quite unsuitable for 
one another," show the existence of an obscure presenti- 
ment of the fact that every man or woman possesses certain 
individual peculiarities which qualify or disqualify him or 
her for marriage with any particular member of the 
opposite sex ; and that this man cannot be substituted 
for that, or this woman for the other without creating a 

It is a common personal experience that certain individuals 
of the opposite sex are distasteful to us, that others leave us 
cold ; whilst others again may stimulate us until, at last, 


some one appears who seems so desirable that everything 
in the world is worthless and empty compared with union 
with such a one. What are the qualifications of that per- 
son ? What are his or her peculiarities ? If it really be the 
case — and I think it is — that every male type has its female 
counterpart with regard to sexual affinity, it looks as if there 
were some definite law. What is this law ? How does it 
act ? " Like poles repel, unlike attract," was what I was 
told when, already armed with my own answer, I resolutely 
importuned different kinds of men for a statement, and sub- 
mitted instances to their power of generalisation. The 
formula, no doubt, is true in a limited sense and for a cer- 
tain number of cases. But it is at once too general and too 
vague ; it would be applied differently by different persons, 
and it is incapable of being stated in mathematical terms. 

This book does not claim to state all the laws of sexual 
affinity, for there are many ; nor does it pretend to be able 
to tell every one exactly which individual of the opposite 
sex will best suit his taste, for that would imply a complete 
knowledge of all the laws in question. In this chapter 
only one of these laws will be considered — the law which 
stands in organic relation to the rest of the book. I am 
working at a number of other laws, but the following is 
that to which I have given most investigation, and which 
is most elaborated. In criticising this work, allowance must 
be made for the incomplete nature of the material conse- 
quent on the novelty and difficulty of the subject. 

Fortunately it is not necessary for me to cite at length 
either the facts from which I originally derived this law 
of sexual affinity or to set out in detail the evidence I 
obtained from personal statements. I asked each of those 
who helped me, to make out his own case first, and then 
to carry out observations in his circle of acquaintances. 
I have paid special attention to those cases which have been 
notice and remembered, in which the taste of a friend has 
not been understood, or appeared not to be present, or was 
different from that of the observer. The minute degree of 
knowledge of the external form of the human body which 


is necessary for the investigation is possessed by every 

I have come to the law which I shall now formulate by a 
method the validity of which I shall now have to prove. 

The law runs as follows :("For true sexual union it is 
necessary that there come together a complete male (M) 
and a complete female (F), even although in different cases 
the M and F are distributed between the two individuals in 
different proportions.) 

The law may be expressed otherwise as follows : 

if we take fx, any individual regarded in the ordinary way 
as a male, and denote his real sexual constitution as M^u, 
so many parts really male, plus Wfx, so many parts really 
female ; if we also take a>, any individual regarded in the 
ordinary way as a female, and denote her real sexual con- 
stitution as W(u, so many parts really female, plus Mw, so 
many parts really male ; then, if there be complete sexual 
affinity, the greatest possible sexual attraction between the 
two individuals, jn and w, 

(i) M/u (the truly male part in the "male") + Mw 
(the truly male part in the " female ") will equal a con- 
stant quantity, M, the ideal male ; and 

(2) Wfx + W(u (the ideal female parts in respectively 
the " male " and the " female ") will equal a second 
constant quantity, W, the ideal female. 

This statement must not be misunderstood. Both formulas 
refer to one case, to a single sexual relation, the second 
following directly from the first and adding nothing to it, as 
I set out from the point of view of an individual possessing 
just as much femaleness as he lacks of maleness. Were he 
completely male, his requisite complement would be a 
complete female, and vice versa. If, however, he is com- 
posed of a definite inheritance of maleness, and also an 
inheritance of femaleness (which must not be neglected), 
then, to complete the individual, his maleness must be com- 
pleted to make a unit ; but so also must his femaleness be 


If; for instance, an individual be composed thus : 

[f M 
ft i and 


then the best sexual complement of that individual will be 
another compound as follows : 

(t) i and 
if W. 

It can be seen at once that this view is wider in its reach 
than the common statement of the case. That male and 
female, as sexual types, attract each other is only one 
instance of my general law, an instance in which an 
imaginary individual, 

J I M 

^\o W 
finds its complement in an equally imaginary individual, 

( o M 

There can be no hesitation in admittin^j the existence of 
definite, individual sexual preferences, and such an admission 
carries with it approval of the necessity of mvestigating the 
laws of the preference, and its relation to the rest of the 
bodily and mental characters of an individual. The law, as 
I have stated it, can encounter no initial sense of impossi- 
bility, and is contrary neither to scientific nor common 
experience. But it is not self-evident. It might be that the 
law, which cannot yet be regarded as fully worked out, 
might run as follows : 

M/i — Mfü = a constant ; 

that is to say, it may be the difference between the degrees 
of masculinity and not the sum of the degrees of ma-;cu- 
linity that is a constant quality, so that the most masculine 
man would stand just as far removed from his complement 


(who in this case would he nearly midway between mascu- 
hnity and femininity) as the most feminine man would be 
removed from his complement who would be near the 
extreme of femininity. Althouj^h, as I have said, this is 
conceivable, it is not borne oui by experience. Recognising 
that we have to do here witli an empirical law, and trying 
to observe a wise scientilic re-.traint, we shall do well to 
avoid speaking as if there were any " force " pulling the 
two individuals together as if they were puppets ; the law is 
no more than the statement tliat an identicnl relation can 
be made out in each case of maximum sexual attraction. 
We are dealing, in fact, with what Ostwald termed an 
*' invariant" and Avenarius a " multiponible "; and this is 
the constant sum formed by the total masculinity and the 
total femininity in all cases where a pair of living beings 
come together with the maximum sexual attraction. 

In this matter we may neglect altogether the so-called 
aesthetic factor, the stimulus of beauty. For does it not 
frequently happen that one man is completely captivated by 
a particular woman and raves about her beauty, whilst 
another, who is not the sexual complement of the woman 
in question, cannot imagine what his friend sees in her to 
admire. (Without discussing the laws of aesthetics or 
attempting to gather together examples of relative values, 
it may readily be admitted that a man may consider a 
woman beautiful who, from tlie aesthetic standpoint, is not 
merely indifferent but actually ugly, that in fact pure 
aesthetics deal not with absolute beauty, but merely with 
conceptions of beauty from which the sexual factor has 
been eliminatedJ 

I have myseh worked out the law in, at the lowest, many 
hundred cases, and I have found that the exceptions were 
only apparent. Almost every couple one meets in the 
street furnishes a new proof. The exceptions were specially 
instructive, as they not only suggested but led to the investi- 
gation of other laws of sexuality. (l myself made special 
investigations in the followmg way. I obtained a set of 
photographs of aesthetically beautiful women of blameless 


character, each of which was a good example of some 
definite proportion of femininity, and I asked a number of 
my friends to inspect these and select the most beautiful. 
The selection made was invariably that which I had pre- 
dicted. With other male friends, who knew on what I was 
engaged, I set about in another fashion. They provided 
me with photographs from amongst which I was to choose 
the one I should expect them to think most beautiful. 
Here, too, 1 was uniformly successful. With others, I was 
able to describe most accurately their ideal of the opposite 
sex, independently of any suggestions unconsciously given 
by them, often in minuter detail than they had realised. 
Sometimes, too, I was able to point out to them, for the 
first time, the qualities that repelled them in individuals of 
the opposite sex, although for the most part men realise 
more readily the characters that repel them than the 
characters that attract them./ 

I believe that with a little practice any one could readily 
acquire and exercise this art on any circle of friends. A 
knowledge of other laws of sexual affinity would be of great 
importance. A number of special constants might be taken 
as tests of the existence of complementary individuals. For 
instance, the law might be caricatured so as to require that 
the sum of the length of the hairs of any two perfect lovers 
should always be the same. But, as I have already shown 
in chapter ii., this result is not to be expected, because 
all the organs of the same body do not necessarily possess 
the same degree of maleness or femaleness. Such heuristic 
rules would soon multiply and bring the whole subject into 
ridicule, and I shall therefore abstain from further sugges- 
tions of the kind. 

I do not deny that my exposition of the law is somewhat 
dogmatical and lacks confirmation by exact detail. But I am 
not so anxious to claim finished results as to incite others 
to the study, the more so as the means for scientific investi- 
gations are lacking in my own case. But even if much 
remains theoretical, I hope that I shall have firmly riveted 
the chief beams in my edifice of theory by showing how it 


explains much that hitherto has found no explanation, and 
so shall have, in a fashion, proved it retrospectively by 
ihowing how much it would explain if it were true. 

A most remarkable confirmation of my law may be found 
in the vegetable kingdom, in a group of facts hitherto 
regarded as isolated and to be so strange as to have no 
parallel. Every botanist must have guessed already that I 
have in mind the phenomena of heterostylism, first discovered 
by Persoon, then described by Darwin and named by Hilde- 
brand. Many Dicotyledons, and a few Monocotyledons, for 
instance, species of Primulaceae and Geraneaceae and many 
Rubiaceas, phanerogams in the flowers of which both the 
pollen and the stigma are functional, although only in cross- 
fertilisation, so that the flowers are hermaphrodite in struc- 
ture but unisexual physiologically, display the peculiarity 
that in different individuals the stamens and the stigma have 
different lengths. The individuals, all the flowers of which 
have long styles and therefore high stigmas and short 
anthers, are, in my judgment, the more female, whilst the 
individuals with short styles and long anthers are more male. 
In addition to such dimorphic plants, there are also trimor- 
phic plants, such as Lythriim salicaria, in which the sexual 
organs display three forms differing in length. There are 
not only long-styled and short-styled forms, but flowers with 
styles of a medium length. 

Although only dimorphism and trimorphism have been 
recognised in the books, these conditions do not exhaust the 
actual complexities of structure. Darwin himself pointed 
out that if small differences were taken into account, no 
less than five different situations of the anthers could be 
distinguished. Alongside such plain cases of discontinuity, 
of the separation of the different degrees of maleness and 
femaleness in plainly distinct individuals, there are also cases 
in which the different degrees grade into each other without 
breaks in the series. There are analogous cases of discon- 
tinuity in the animal kingdom, although they have always 
been thought of as unique and isolated phenomena, as the 
parallel with heterostylism had not been suggested, in 



several genera of insects, as, for instance, some Earwigs 
(Forficulce) and Lamellicorn Beetles {Lucanus cervus), the 
Sta.g-heet\e (Dynasies hercules), and Xylotrupes gideon, there are 
some males in which the antennae, the secondary sexual 
characters by which they differ most markedly from the 
females, are extremely long, and others in which they are 
very short. Bateson, who has written most on this subject, 
distinguishes the two forms as " high males " and " low 
males." It is true that a continuous series of intermediate 
forms links the extreme types, but, none the less, the vast 
majority of the individuals are at one extreme or the other. 
Unfortunately, Bateson did not investigate the relations 
between these different types of males and the females, and 
so it is not known if there be female types with special 
sexual affinity for these male types. Thus these observa- 
tions can be taken only as a morphological parallel to 
heterostylism and not as cases of the law of complementary 
sexual attraction. 

Heterostylous plants may possibly be the means of estab« 
lishing my view that the law of sexual complements holds 
good for every kind of living thing. Darwin first, and after 
him many other investigators have proved that in heterosty- 
lous plants fertilisation has the best results, or, indeed, may 
be possible only when the pollen from a macrostylous flower 
(a flower with the shortest form of anthers and longest pistil) 
falls on the stigma of a microstylous blossom (one where 
the pistil is the shortest possible and the stamens at their 
greatest length), or vice versa. In other words, if the 
best result is to be attained by the cross-fertilisation of a 
pair of flowers, one flower with a long pistil, and there- 
fore high degree of femaleness, and short stamens must 
be mated with another possessing a correspondingly short 
pistil, and so, with the amount of femaleness complementary 
to the first flower, and with long stamens complementary to 
the short stamens of the first flower. In the case of flowers 
where there are three pistil lengths, the best results may be 
expected when the pollen of one blossom is transmitted to 
another blossom in which the stigma is the nearest comple. 


ment of the stigma of the flower from which the pollen 
came ; if another combination is made, either naturally or 
by artificial fertilisation, then, if a result follows at all, the 
seedlings are scanty, dwarfed and sometimes infertile, much 
as when hybrids between species are formed. 

It is to be noticed that the authors who have discussed 
heterostylism are not satisfied with the usual explanation, 
which is that the insects which visit the flowers carry the 
pollen at different relative positions on their bodies corre- 
sponding to the different lengths of the sexual organs and 
so produce the wonderful result. Darwin, moreover, admits 
that bees carry all sorts of pollen on every part of their 
bodies ; so that it has still to be made clear how the female 
organs dusted with two or three kinds of pollen make their 
choice of the most suitable. The supposition of a power of 
choice, however interesting and wonderful it is, does not 
account for the bad results which follow artificial dusting 
with the wrong kind of pollen (so-called " illegitimate 
fertilisation "). The theory that the stigmas can only 
make use of, or are capable of receiving only " legitimate 
pollen " has been proved by Darwin to be erroneous, inas- 
much as the insects which act as fertilisers certainly some- 
times start various cross-breedings. 

The hypothesis that the reason for this selective retention 
on the part of individuals is a special quality, deep-seated 
in the flowers themselves, seems more probable. CWe have 
probably here to do with the presence, just as in human 
beings, of a maximum degree of sexual attraction between 
individuals, one of which possesses just as much femaleness as 
the other possesses maleness, and this is merely another mode 
of stating my sexual law. > The probability of this interpreta- 
tion is increased by the fact that in the short-styled, long- 
anthered, more male flowers, the pollen grains are larger 
and the papillae on the stigmas are smaller than the corre- 
sponding parts of the long-styled, short-anthered, more 
female flowers. Here we have certainly to do with different 
degrees of maleness and femaleness. These circumstances 
supply a stong corroboration of my law of sexual affinity, 


that in the vegetable kingdom as well as in the animal 
kingdom (I shall return later to this point) fertilisation has 
the best results when it occurs between parents with 
maximum sexual affinity.* 

Consideration of sexual aversion affords the readiest proof 
that the law holds good throughout the animal kingdom. I 
should like to suggest here that it would be extremely 
interesting to make observations as to whether the larger, 
heavier and less active egg-cells exert a special attraction on 
the smaller and more active spermatozoa, whilst those egg- 
cells with less food-yolk attract more strongly the larger and 
less active spermatozoa. It may be the case, as L. Weill 
has already suggested in a speculation as to the factors that 
determine sex, that there is a correlation between the rates 
of motion or kinetic energies of conjugating sexual cells. 
It has not yet been determined, although indeed it would 
be difficult to determine, if the sexual cells, apart from the 
streams and eddies of their fluid medium, approach each 
other with equal velocities or sometimes display special 
activity. There is a wide field for investigation here. 

^s I have repeatedly remarked, my law is not the only 
law of sexual affinity, otherwise, no doubt, it would have 
been discovered long ago. Just because so many other 
factors are bound up with it,t because another, perhaps 
manv other laws sometimes overshadow it, cases of undis- 
turbed action of sexual affinity are rareJ As the necessary 
investigations have not yet been finished, I will not speak 
at length of such laws, but rather by way of illustration I 
shall refer to a few factors which as yet cannot be demon- 
strated mathematically. 

I shall begin with some phenomena which are pretty 

* For special purposes the breeder, whose object frequently is to 
modify natural tendencies, will often disregard this law. 

f In speaking of the sexual taste in men and women, one thinks 
at once of the usual but not invariable preference individuals show 
for a particular colour of hair. It would certainly seem as if the 
reason for so strongly marked a preference must lie deep in human 


generally recognised. Men when quite young, say under 
twenty, are attracted by much older women (say those of 
thirty-five and so on), whilst men of thirty-five are attracted 
by women much younger than themselves. So also, on the 
other hand, quite young girls (sweet seventeen) generally 
prefer much older men, but, later in life, may marry strip- 
lings. The whole subject deserves close attention and is 
both popular and easily noticed. 

In spite of the necessary limitation of this work to the 
consideration of a single law, it will make for exactness if I 
try to state the formula in a more definite fashion, without 
the deceptive element of simplicity. Even without being 
able to state in definite quantities the other factors and the 
co-operating laws, we may reach a satisfactory exactness by 
the use of a variable factor. 

The first formula was only an abstract general statement 
of what is common to all cases of maximum sexual attrac- 
tion so far as the sexual relation is governed by the law. I 
must now try to find an expression for the strength of the 
sexual affinity in any conceivable case, an expression which, 
on account of its general form, can be used to describe the 
relationship between any two living beings, even if these 
belong to different species or to the same sex. 


f a M ' ( ßW 

ß' M 

(where a, a', ß, and ß' are each greater than o and less than 
unity) define the sexual constitutions of any two living beings 
between which there is an attraction, then the strength of 
the attraction may be expressed thus : 

a- ß 

where /' is an empirical or analytical function of the 
period during which it is possible for the individuals to act 
upon one another, what may be called the "reaction-time"; 
whilst K is the variable factor in which we place all the 


known and unknown laws of sexual affinity, and which also 
varies with the degree of specific, racial and family relation- 
ship, and with the health and absence of deformity in the 
two individuals, and which, finally, will become smaller as 
the actual spacial distance between the two is greater, and 
which can be determined in any individual case. 

When in this formula a = /3 A must be infinity ; this is the 
extreme case ; it is sexual attraction as an elemental force, 
as it has been described with a weird mastercrait by 
Lynkeus in the novel "Im Postwangen." Such sexual 
attraction is as much a natural law as the downward growth 
of a rootlet towards the earth, or the migration of bacteria 
to the oxygen at the edge of a microscopic cover-glass. 
But it takes some time to grow accustomed to such a view. 
I shall refer to this point again. 

li a — ß has its maximun value, which is when it equals 
unity, then A = K . /. 

This would be the extreme case of the action of all the 
sympathetic and antipathetic relations between human beings 
(leaving out of account social relations in their narrowest 
sense, which are merely the safeguards of communities) 
which are not included in the l.iw of sexual affinity. As K 
generally increases with the strength of congenital relation- 
ship, A has a greater value when the individuals are of the 
same nationality than when they belong to different nation- 
alities. The value of f is great in this case, and onr; can 
investigate its fluctuations, as, for instance, when two domestic 
animals of different species are in association ; at first it 
usually stands for violent enmity, or fear of each other (and 
A has a negative value), whilst later on a friendship may 
come about. 

When K = o in the formula 

_ K./' 

A = 

then A = o, which means that between two living beings 
of origin too remote there may be no trace of sexual 


The provisions of the criminal statute-books, however, in 
reference to sodomy and bestiality show plainly that even 
in the case of very remote species K has a value greater 
than nothing. The formula may apply to two individuals 
not only not of the same species, but even not of the same 

It is a new theory that the union of male and female 
organisms is no mere matter of chance, but is guided by a 
definite law ; and the actual complexities which I have 
merely suggested show the need for complete investigation 
into the mysterious nature of sexual attraction. 

The experiments of Wilhelm Pfeffer have shown that the 
male cells of many cryptogams are naturally attracted not 
merely by the female cells, but also by substances which they 
have come in contact with under natural conditions, or which 
have been nitroduced to them experimentally, in the latter 
case the substances being sometimes of a kind with which 
they could not possibly have come in contact, except under 
the conditions of experiment. Thus the male cells of ferns 
are attracted not only by the malic acid secreted naturally 
by the archegonia, but by synthetically prepared malic acid, 
whilst the male cells of mosses are attracted either by the 
natural acid of the female cells or by acid prepared from 
cane sugar. A male cell, which, we know not how, is 
influenced by the degree of concentration of a solution, 
moves towards the most concentrated part of the fluid. 
Pfeffer named such movements " chemotactic " and coined 
the word " chemotropism " to include these and many other 
asexual cases of motion stimulated by chemical bodies. 
There is much to support the view that the attraction 
exercised by females on males which perceive them at a 
distance by sense organs is to be regarded as analogous 
in certain respects with chemotropism. 

It seems highly probable that chemotropism is also the 
explanation of the restless and persistent energy with which 
for days together the mammalian spermatozoa seek the 
entrance to the uterus, although the natural current pro- 
duced from the mucous membrane of the uterus is frorO 


within outwards. The spermatozoon, in spite of all me- 
chanical and other hindrances, makes for the egg-cell with 
an almost incredible certainty. In this connection we may 
call to mind the prodigious journeys made by many fish ; 
salmon travel for months together, practically without taking 
any food, from the open sea to the sources of the Rhine, 
against the current of the river, in order to spawn in locali- 
ties that are safe and well provided with food. 

I have recently been looking at the beautiful sketches 
which P. Falkenberg has made of the processes of fertilisa- 
tion in some of the Mediterranean seaweeds. When we 
speak of the lines of force between the opposite poles of 
magnets we are dealing with a force no more natural than 
that which irresistibly attracts the spermatozoon and the 
egg-cell. The chief jdifference seems to be that in the case 
of the attraction between the inorganic substances, strains 
are set up in the media between the two poles, whilst in the 
living matter the forces seem confined to the organisms 
themselves. According to Falkenberg's observations, the 
spermatozoa, in moving towards the egg-cells, are able to 
overcome the force which otherwise would be exercised 
upon them by a source of light. The sexual attraction, 
the chemotactic force, is stronger than the phototactic 

/when a union has taken place between two individuals 
wno, according to my formula, are not adapted to each 
other, if later, the natural complement of either appears, 
the inclination to desert the makeshift at once asserts itself, 
in accordance with an inevitable law of nature. A divorce 
takes place, as much constitutional, depending on the nature 
of things, as when, if iron sulphate and caustic potash are 
brought together, the SO4 ions leave the iron to unite with 
the potassium. When in nature an adjustment of such 
differences of potential is about to take place, he who would 
approve or disapprove of the process from the moral point 
of view would appear to most to play a ridiculous partf 

This is the fundamental idea in Goethe's "Wahlver- 
wandtschaften " (Elective Affinities), and in the fourth 


cnapter of the first part of that work he makes it the 
subject of a playful introduction which was full of un- 
dreamed of future significance, and the full force of which 
he was fated himself to experience in later life. I must con- 
fess to being proud that this book is the first work to take up 
his ideas. None the less, it is as little my intention as it was 
the intention of Goethe to advocate divorce ; I hope only 
to explain it. There are human motives which indispose 
man to divorce and enable him to withstand it. This I shall 
discuss later on. The physical side of sex in man is less 
completely ruled by natural law than is the case with lower 
animals. We get an indication of this in the fact that man 
is sexual throughout the year, and that in him there is less 
trace than even in domestic animals of the existence of a 
special spring breeding-season. 

The law of sexual affinity is analogous in another respect 
to a well-known law of theoretical chemistry, although, 
indeed, there are marked differences. The violence of a 
chemical reaction is proportionate to the mass of the sub- 
stances involved, as, for instance, a stronger acid solution 
unites with a stronger basic solution with greater avidity, 
just as in the case of the union of a pair of living beings 
with strong maleness and femaleness. But there is an 
essential difference between the living process and the 
reaction of the lifeless chemical substances. The living 
organism is not homogeneous and isotropic in its composi- 
tion ; it is not divisible into a number of small parts 
of identical properties. The difference depends on the 
principle of individuality, on the fact that every living 
thing is an individual, and that its individuality is essen- 
tially structural. And so in the vital process it is not as in 
inorganic chemistry ; there is no possibility of a larger pro- 
portion forming one compound, a smaller proportion form- 
ing another. The organic chemotropism, moreover, may 
be negative. In certain cases the value of A may result in 
a negative quantity, that is to say, the sexual attraction may 
appear in the form of sexual repulsion. It is true that in 
purely chemical processes the same reaction may take place 


at different rates. Taking, however, the total failure of some 
reaction by catalytic interference as the equivalent of a 
sexual repulsion, it never happens, according to the latest 
investigations at least, that the interference merely induces 
the reaction after a longer or shorter interval. On the other 
hand, it happens frequently that a compound which is 
formed at one temperature breaks up at another tempera- 
ture. /Here the " direction " of the reaction is a function of 
the temperature, as, in the vital process, it may be a function 
of time. 

In the value of the factor " /," the time of reaction, a 
final analogy of sexual attraction with chemical processes 
may be found, if we are willing to trace the comparison 
without laying too much stress upon ity Consider the 
formula for the rapidity of the reaction, the different 
degrees of rapidity with which a sexual attraction between 
two individuals is established, and reflect how the value of 
"A" varies with the value of " t." However, what Kant 
termed mathematical vanity must not tempt us to read 
into our equations complicated and difficult processes, the 
validity of which is uncertain. All that can be implied is 
simple enough ; sensual desire increases with the time 
during which two individuals are in propinquity ; if they 
were shut up together, it would develop if there were no 
repulsion, or practically no repulsion between them, in the 
fashion of some slow chemical process which takes much 
time before its result is visible. Such a case is the confi- 
dence with which it is said of a marriage arranged without 
love, " Love will come later ; time will bring it." 

It is plain that too much stress must not be laid on the 
analogy between sexual affinity and purely chemical pro- 
cesses. None the less, I thought it illuminating to make the 
comparison. It is not yet quite clear if the sexual attrac- 
tion is to be ranked with the " tropisms," and the matter 
cannot be settled without going beyond mere sexuality to 
discuss the general problem of erotics. The phenomena 
of love require a different treatment, and I sliall return to 
them in the second part of this book. None the less, there 


are analogies that cannot be denied when human attractions 
and chemotropism are compared. I may refer as an instance 
to the relation between Edward and Ottilie in Goethe's 
" Wahlverwandtschaften." 

Mention of Goethe's romance leads naturally to a dis- 
cussion of the marriage problem, and I may here give a few 
of the practical inferences which would seem to follow 
from the theoretical considerations of this chapter. It is 
clear that a natural law, not dissimilar to other natural laws, 
exists with regard to sexual attraction ; this law shows that, 
whilst innumerable gradations of sexuality exist, there always 
may be found pairs of beings the members of which are 
almost perfectly adapted to one another. So far, marriage 
has its justification, and, from the standpoint of biology, 
free love is condemned. Monogamy, however, is a more 
difficult problem, the solution of which involves other con- 
siderations, such as periodicity, to which I shall refer later, 
and the change of the sexual taste with advancing years. 
^A second conclusion may be derived from heterostylism, 
especially with reference to the fact that " illegitimate fertili- 
sation " almost invariably produces less fertile offspring. 
This leads to the consideration that amongst other forms of 
life the strongest and healthiest offspring will result from 
unions in which there is the maximum of sexual suitability. 
As the old saying has it, " love-children " turn out to be the 
finest, strongest, and most vigorous of human beings. Those 
who are interested in the improvement of mankind must 
therefore, on purely hygienic grounds, oppose the ordinary 
mercenary marriages of convenience.} 

It is more than probable that the law of sexual attraction 
may yield useful results when applied to the breeding of 
animals. More attention will have to be given to the 
secondary sexual characters of the animals which it is 
proposed to mate. The artificial methods made use of to 
secure the serving of mares by stallions unattractive to them 
do not always fail, but are followed by indifferent results. 
Probably an obvious result of the use of a substituted 
stallion in impregnating a mare is the extreme nervousness 


of the progeny, which must be treated with bromide and 
other drugs. So, also, the degeneration of modern Jews 
may be traced in part to the fact that amongst them 
marriages for other reasons than love are specially 

Amongst the many fundamental principles established by 
the careful observations and experiments of Darwin, and 
since confirmed by other investigators, is the fact that both 
very closely related individuals, and those whose specific 
characters are too unlike, have little sexual attraction for 
each other, and that if in spite of this sexual union occurs, 
the offspring usually die at an early stage or are very feeble, 
or are practically infertile. So also, in heterostylous plants 
" legitimate fertilisation " brings about more numerous and 
vigorous seeds than come from other unions. 

^t may be said in general that the offspring of those 
parents which showed the greatest sexual attraction succeed 

Tnis rule, which is certainly universal, implies the correct, 
ness of a conclusion which might be drawn from the earlier 
part of this book, When a marriage has taken place and 
children have been produced, these have gained nothing 
from the conquest of sexual repulsion by the parents, for 
such a conquest could not take place without damage to the 
mental and bodily characters of the children that would 
come of it. ^t is certain, however, that many childless 
marriages have been loveless marriages. The old idea that 
the chance of conception is increased where there is a 
mutual participation in the sexual act is closely connected 
with what we have been considering as to the greater 
intensity of the sexual attraction between two comple- 
mentary individuals^ 



The law of Sexual Attraction gives the long-sought-for 
explanation of sexual inversion, of sexual inclination 
towards members of the same sex, whether or no that be 
accompanied by aversion from members of the opposite sex. 
Without reference to a distinction which I shall deal with 
later on, I may say at once that it is exceedingly probable 
that, in all cases of sexual inversion, there will be found 
indications of the anatomical characters of the other sex. 
There is no such thing as a genuine "psycho-sexual her- 
maphroditism " ; the men who are sexually attracted by 
men have outward marks of effeminacy, just as women of a 
similar disposition to those of their own sex exhibit male 
characters. That this should be so is quite intelligible if we 
admit the close parallelism between body and mind, and 
further light is thrown upon it by the facts explained in the 
second chapter of this book ; the facts as to the male or 
female principle not being uniformly present all over the 
same body, but distributed in different amounts in different 
organs. In all cases of sexual inversion, there is invariably 
an anatomical approximation to the opposite sex. 

Such a view is directly opposed to that of those who 
would maintain that sexual inversion is an acquired 
character, and one that has superseded normal sexual 
impulses. Schrenk-Notzing, Kraepelin, and Fere are 
amongst those writers who have urged the view that sexual 
inversion is an acquired habit, the result of abstinence from 
normal intercourse and particularly induced by example. 
But what about the first offender ? Did the god Herma- 


phroditos teach him ? It might equally be sought to prove ; 
that the sexual inclination of a normal man for a normal 
woman was an unnatural, acquired habit — a habit, as some 
ancient writers have suggested, that arose from some acci- 
dental discovery of its agreeable nature. Just as a normal 
man discovers for himself what a woman is, so also, in the 
case of a sexual " invert " the attraction exercised on him 
by a person of his own sex is a normal product of his 
development from his birth. Naturally the opportunity 
must come in which the individual may put in practice his 
desire for inverted sexuality, but the opportunity will be 
taken only when his natural constitution has made the indi- 
vidual ready for it. That sexual abstinence (to take the 
second supposed cause of inversion) should result in any- 
thing more than masturbation may be explained by the 
supposition that inversion is acquired, but that it should be 
coveted and eagerly sought can only happen when the 
demand for it is rooted in the constitution. In the same 
fashion normal sexual attraction might be said to be an 
acquired character, if it could be proved definitely that, to 
fall in love, a normal man must first see a woman or a 
picture of a woman. Those who assert that sexual inversion 
is an acquired character, are making a merely incidental or 
accessory factor responsible for the whole constitution of 
an organism. 

There is little reason for saying that sexual inversion is 
acquired, and there is just as little for regarding it as in- 
herited from parents or grandparents. Such an assertion, 
it is true, has not been made, and seems contrary to all 
experience ; but it has been suggested that it is due to a 
neuropathic diathesis, and that general constitutional weak- 
ness is to be found in the descendants of those who have 
displayed sexual inversion. In fact sexual inversion has 
usually been regarded as psycho-pathological, as a symptom 
of degeneration, and those who exhibit it have been con- 
sidered as physically unfit. This view, however, is falling 
into disrepute, especially as Krafft-Ebing, its principal 
champion, abandoned it in the later editions of his work. 


None the less, it is not generally recognised that sexual 
inverts may be otherwise perfectly healthy, and with regard 
to other social matters quite normal. When they have been 
asked if they would have wished matters to be different 
with them in this respect, almost invariably they answer in 
the negative. 

It is due to the erroneous conceptions that I have men- 
tioned that homo-sexuality has not been considered in 
relation with other facts. Let those who regard sexual 
inversion as pathological, as a hideous anomaly of mental 
development (the view accepted by the populace), or believe 
it to be an acquired vice, the result of an execrable seduc- 
tion, remember that there exist all transitional stages 
reaching from the most masculine male to the most 
effeminate male and so on to the sexual invert, the false 
and true hermaphrodite ; and then, on the other side, suc- 
cessively through the sapphist to the virago and so on until 
the most feminine virgin is reached. In the interpretation 
of this volume, sexual inverts of both sexes are to be defined 
as individuals in whom the factor a (see page 8, chap, i.) 
is very nearly 0.5 and so is practically equal to a ; in other 
words, individuals in whom there is as much maleness as 
femaleness, or indeed who, although reckoned as men, may 
contain an excess of femaleness, or as women and yet be 
more male than female. Because of the want of uniformity 
in the sexual characters of the body, it is fairly certain that 
many individuals have their sex assigned them on account 
of the existence of the primary male sexual characteristic, 
even although there may be delayed descensus iesHculorum, or 
epi- or hypo-spadism, or, later on, absence of active sperma- 
tozoa, or even, in the case of assignment of the female sex, 
absence of the vagina, and thus male avocations (such as 
compulsory military service) may come to be assigned to 
those in whom a is less than 0.5 and a greater than 0.5. 
The sexual complement of such individuals really is to be 
found on their own side of the sexual line, that is to say, on 
the side on which they are reckoned, although in reality 
they may belong to the other. 


Moreover, and this not only supports my view but can b« 
explained only by it, there are no inverts who are completely 
sexually inverted. In all of them there is from the begin- 
ning an inclination to both sexes ; they are, in fact, bisexual. 
It may be that later on they may actively encourage a slight 
leaning towards one sex or the other, and so become 
practically unisexual either in the normal or in the inverted 
sense, or surrounding influence may bring about this result 
for them. But in such processes the fundamental bisexuality 
is never obliterated and may at any time give evidence of 
its suppressed presence. 

Reference has often been made, and in recent years has 
increasingly been made, to the relation between homo- 
sexuality and the presence of bisexual rudiments in the 
embryonic stages of animals and plants. What is new in 
my view is that according to it, homo-sexuality cannot be 
regarded as an atavism or as due to arrested embryonic 
development, or incomplete differentiation of sex ; it cannot 
be regarded as an anomaly of rare occurrence interpolating 
itself in customary complete separation of the sexes. 
Homo-sexuality is merely the sexual condition of these 
intermediate sexual forms that stretch from one ideally 
sexual condition to the other sexual condition. In my view 
all actual organisms have both homo-sexuality and hetero- 
sexual ity. 

That the rudiment of homo-sexuality, in however weak a 
form, exists in every human being, corresponding to the 
greater or smaller development of the characters of the 
opposite sex, is proved conclusively from the fact that in 
the adolescent stage, while there is still a considerable 
amount of undifferentiated sexuality, and before the internal 
secretions have exerted their stimulating force, passionate 
attachments with a sensual side are the rule amongst boys 
as well as amongst girls. 

A person who retains from that age onwards a marked 
tendency to "friendship" with a person of his own sex 
must have a strong taint of the other sex in him. Those, 
however, are still more obviously intermediate sexual forms, 


who, after association with both sexes, fail to have aroused 
in them the normal passion for the opposite sex, but still 
endeavour to maintain confidential, devoted affection with 
those of their own sex. 

There is no friendship between men that has not an ele- 
ment of sexuality in it, however little accentuated it may be 
in the nature of the friendship, and however painful the 
idea of the sexual element would be. But it is enough to 
remember that there can be no friendship unless there has 
been some attraction to draw the men together. Much of 
the affection, protection, and nepotism between men is due 
to the presence of unsuspected sexual compatibility. 

An analogy with the sexual friendship of youth may be 
traced in the case of old men, when, for instance, with the 
involution following old age, the latent amphisexuality of 
man appears. This may be the reason why so many men 
of fifty years and upwards are guilty of indecency. 

Homo-sexuality has been observed amongst animals to 
a considerable extent. F. Karsch has made a wide, if not 
complete, compilation from other authors. Unfortunately, 
practically no observations were made as to the grades of 
maleness or femaleness to be observed in such cases. But 
we may be reasonably certain that the law holds good in 
the animal world. If bulls are kept apart from cows for a 
considerable time, homo-sexual acts occur amongst them; the 
most female are the first to become corrupted, the others 
later, some perhaps never. (It is amongst cattle that the 
greatest number of sexually intermediate forms have been 
recorded.) This shows that the tendency was latent in 
them, but that at other times the sexual demand was satis- 
fied in normal fashion. Cattle in captivity behave precisely 
as prisoners and convicts in these matters. Animals exhibit 
not merely onanism (which is known to them as to human 
beings), but also homo-sexuality ; and this fact, together 
with the fact that sexually intermediate forms are known to 
occur amongst them, I regard as strong evidence for my 
law of sexual attraction. 

Inverted sexual attraction, then, is no exception to my 



law of sexual attraction, but is merely a special case of 
it. An individual who is half-man, half-woman, requires as 
sexual complement a being similarly equipped with a share 
of both sexes in order to fulfil the requirements of the law. 
This explains the fact that sexual inverts usually associate 
only with persons of similar character, and rarely admit to 
intimacy those who are normal. The sexual attraction is 
mutual, and this explains why sexual inverts so readily 
recognise each other. This being so, the normal element 
in human society has very little idea of the extent to which 
homo-sexuality is practised, and when a case becomes public 
property, every normal young profligate thinks that he has 
a right to condemn such " atrocities." So recently as the 
year 1900 a professor of psychiatry in a German university 
urged that those who practised homo-sexuality should be 

The therapeutical remedies which have been used to 
combat homo-sexuality, in cases where such treatment has 
been attempted, are certainly less radical than the advice of 
the professor ; but they serve to show only how little the 
nature of homo-sexuality was understood. The method used 
at present is hypnotism, and this can rest only on the theory 
that homo-sexuality is an acquired character. By suggesting 
the idea of the female form and of normal congress, it is 
sought to accustom those under treatment to normal rela- 
tions. But the acknowledged results are very few. 

The failure is to be expected from our standpoint. The 
hypnotiser suggests to the subject the image of a "typical" 
woman, ignorant of the innate differences in the subject 
and unaware that such a type is naturally repulsive to him. 
And as the normal typical woman is not his complement, it 
is fruitless of the doctor to advise the services of any casual 
Venus, however attractive, to complete the cure of a man 
who has long shunned normal intercourse. If our formula 
were used to discover the complement of the male invert, it 
would point to the most man-like woman, the Lesbian or 
Sapphist type. Probably such is the only type of woman 
who would attract the sexual invert or please him. If a 


cure for sexual inversion must be sought because it cannot 
be left to its own extinction, then this theory offers the 
following solution. Sexual inverts must be brought to 
sexual inverts, from homo-sexualists to Sapphists, each in 
their grades. Knowledge of such a solution should lead to 
repeal of the ridiculous laws of England, Germany and 
Austria directed against homo-sexuality, so far at least as 
to make the punishments the lightest possible. In the 
second part of this book it will be made clear why both the 
active and the passive parts in male homo-sexuality appear 
disgraceful, although the desire is greater than in the case 
of the normal relation of a man and woman. In the abstract 
there is no ethical difference between the two. 

In spite of all the present-day clamour about the existence 
of different rights for different individualities, there is only 
one law that governs mankind, just as there is only one 
logic and not several logics. It is in opposition to that law, 
as well as to the theory of punishment according to which 
the legal offence, not the moral offence, is punished, that 
we forbid the homo-sexualist to carry on his practices whilst 
we allow the hetero-sexualist full play, so long as both avoid 
open scandal. Speaking from the standpoint of a purer 
state of humanity and of a criminal law untainted by the 
pedagogic idea of punishment as a deterrent, the only 
logical and rational method of treatment for sexual inverts 
would be to allow them to seek and obtain what they 
require where they can, that is to say, amongst other 

My theory appears to me quite incontrovertible and con- 
clusive, and to afford a complete explanation of the entire 
set of phenomena. The exposition, however, must now 
face a set of facts which appear quite opposed to it, and 
which seem absolutely to contradict my reference of sexual 
inversion to the existence of sexually intermediate types, 
and my explanation of the law governing the attraction of 
these types for each other. It is probably the case that my 
explanation is sufficient for all female sexual inverts,fbut it 
is certainly true that there are men with very little taint oi 


femaleness about them who yet exert a very strong influ- 
ence on members of their own sex, a stronger influence 
than that of other men who may have more femaleness 
— an influence which can be exerted even on very male 
men, and an influence which, finally, often appears to be 
much greater than the influence any woman can exert on 
these men.^ Albert Moll is justified in saying as follows : 
"There exist psycho-sexual hermaphrodites who are at- 
tracted by members of both sexes, but who in the case of 
each sex appear to care only for the characters peculiar to 
that sex ; and, on the other hand, there are also psycho- 
sexual (?) hermaphrodites who, in the case of each sex, are 
attracted, not by the characteristics peculiar to that sex, 
but by those which are either sexually indifferent or even 
antagonistic to the sex in question." Upon this distinction 
depends the difference between the two sets of phenomena 
indicated in the title of this chapter — Homo- sexuality and 
Pederasty. The distinction may be expressed as follows : 
The homo-sexualist is that type of sexual invert who prefers 
very female men or very male women, in accordance with 
the general law of sexual attraction. The pederast, on the 
other hand, may be attracted either by very male men or by 
very female women, but in the latter case only in so far 
as he is not pederastic. Moreover, his inclination for the 
male sex is stronger than for the female sex, and is more 
deeply seated in his nature. The origin of pederasty is 
a problem in itself and remains unsolved by this investi- 



In view of the admitted close correspondence between 
matter and mind, we may expect to find that the conception 
of sexually intermediate forms, if applied to mental facts, 
will yield a rich crop of results. The existence of a female 
mental type and a male mental type can readily be imagined 
(and the quest of these types has been made by many 
investigators), but such perfect types never occur as actual 
individuals, simply because in the mind, as in the body, all 
sorts of sexually intermediate conditions exist. My concep- 
tion will also be of great service in helping us to discriminate 
between the different mental qualities, and to throw some 
light into what has always been a dark corner for psycholo- 
gists — the differences between different individuals. A great 
step will be made if we are able to supply graded categories 
for the mental diathesis of individuals ; if it shall cease to 
be scientific to say that the character of an individual is 
merely male or female ; but if we can make a measured 
judgment and say that such and such an one is so many 
parts male and so many parts female. Which element in 
any particular individual has done, said, or thought this or 
the other ? By making the answer to such a question pos- 
sible, we shall have done much towards the definite descrip- 
tion of the individual, and the new method will determine 
the direction of future investigation. The knowledge of the 
past, which set out from conceptions which were really 
confused averages, has been equally far from reaching the 
broadest truths as from searching out the most intimate, 


detailed knowledge. This failure of past methods gives us 
hope that the principle of sexually intermediate forms may 
serve as the foundation of a scientific study of character 
and justifies the attempt to make of it an illuminating 
principle for the psychology of individual differences. Its 
application to the science of character, which, so far, has 
been in the hands of merely literary authors, and is from 
the scientific point of view an untouched field, is to be 
greeted more warmly as it is capable of being used quanti- 
tatively, so that we venture to estimate the percentage of 
maleness and femaleness which an individual possesses 
even in the mental qualities. The answer to this question 
is not given even if we know the exact anatomical position 
of an organism on the scale stretching from male to female, 
although as a matter of fact congruity between bodily and 
mental sexuality is more common than incongruity. But 
we must remember what was stated in chap. ii. as to the 
uneven distribution of sexuality over the body. 

The proportion of the male to the female principle in the 
same human being must not be assumed to be a constant 
quantity. An important new conclusion must be taken 
into account, a conclusion which is necessary to the right 
application of the principle which clears up in a striking 
fashion earlier psychological work. The fact is that every 
human being varies or oscillates between the maleness and 
the femaleness of his constitution. In some cases these 
oscillations are abnormally large, in other cases so small as 
to escape observation, but they are always present, and 
when they are great they may even reveal themselves in 
the outward aspect of the body. Like the variations in the 
magnetism of the earth, these sexual oscillations are either 
regular or irregular. The regular forms are sometimes 
minute ; for instance, many men feel more male at night. 
The large and regular oscillations correspond to the great 
divisions of organic life to which attention is only now 
being directed, and they may throw light upon many 
puzzling phenomena. The irregular oscillations probably 
depend chiefly upon the environment, as for instance on 


che sexuality of surrounding human beings. They may 
help to explain some curious points in the psychology of a 
crowd which have not yet received sufficient attention. 

In short, bi-sexuality cannot be properly observed in a 
single moment, but must be studied through successive 
periods of time. This time-element in psychological differ- 
ences of sexuality may be regularly periodic or not. The 
swing towards one pole of sexuality may be greater than 
the following swing to the other side. Although theoreti- 
cally possible, it seems to be extremely rare for the swing 
to the male side to be exactly equal to the swing towards 
the female side. 

It may be admitted in principle, before proceeding to 
detailed investigation, that the conception of sexually inter- 
mediate forms makes possible a more accurate description 
of individual characters in so far as it aids in determining 
the proportion of male and female in each individual, and 
of measuring the oscillations to each side of which any 
individual is capable. A point of method must be decided 
at once, as upon it depends the course the investigation 
will pursue. Are we to begin by an empirical investigation 
of the almost innumerable intermediate conditions in 
mental sexuality, or are we to set out with the abstract sexual 
types, the ideal psychological man and woman, and then in- 
vestigate deductively how far such ideal pictures correspond 
with concrete cases ? The former method is that which the 
development of psychological knowledge has pursued; ideals 
have been derived from facts, sexual types constructed from 
observation of the manifold complexity of nature ; it would 
be inductive and analytic. The latter mode, deductive and 
synthetic, is more in accordance with formal logic. 

I have been unwilling to pursue the second method as 
fully as is possible, because every one can apply for himself 
to concrete facts the two well-defined extreme types ; once 
it is understood that actual individuals are mixtures of the 
types, it is simple to appiy theory to practice, and the actual 
pursuit of detailed cases would involve much repetition and 
bring little theoretical advantage. The second method, 


however, is impracticable. The collection of the long series 
of details from which the inductions would be made would 
simply weary the reader. 

In the first or biological part of my work, I give little 
attention to the extreme types, but devote myself to the 
fullest investigation of the intermediate stages. In the 
second part, I shall endeavour tv> make as full a psycho- 
logical analysis as possible of the characters of the male 
and female types, and will touch only lightly on concrete 

I shall first mention, without laying too much stress on 
them, some of the more obvious mental characteristics of 
the intermediate conditions. 

Womanish men are usually extremely anxious to marry, 
at least (I mention this to prevent misconception) if a 
sufficiently brilliant opportunity offers itself. When it is 
possible, they nearly always marry whilst they are still quite 
young. It is especially gratifying to them to get as wives 
famous women, artists or poets, or singers and actresses. 

Womanish men are physically lazier than other men in 
proportion to the degree of their womanishness. There are 
" men " who go out walking with the sole object of display- 
ing their faces like the faces of women, hoping that they 
will be admired, after which they return contentedly home. 
The ancient " Narcissus " was a prototype of such persons. 
These people are naturally fastidious about the dressing of 
their hair, their apparel, shoes, and linen ; they are con- 
cerned as to their personal appearance at all times, and 
about the minutest details of their toilet. They are con- 
scious of every glance thrown on them by other men, and 
because of the female element in them, they are coquettish 
in gait and demeanour. Viragoes, on the other hand, fre- 
quently are careless about their toilet, and even about the 
personal care of their bodies; they take less time in dressing 
than many womanish men. The dandyism of men on the 
one hand, and much of what is called the emancipation of 
women, are due to the increase in the numbers of these 
epicene creatures, and not merely to a passing fashion. 


^Indeed, if one inquires why anything becomes the fashion 
it will be found that there is a true cause for iy 

The more femaleness a woman possesses the less will she 
understand a man, and the sexual characters of a man will 
have the greater influence on her. This is more than a 
mere application of the law of sexual attraction, as I have 
already stated it. So also the more manly a man is the less 
will he understand women, but the more readily be in- 
fluenced by them as women. Those men who claim to 
understand women are themselves very nearly women. 
Womanish men often know how to treat women much 
better than manly men. Manly men, except in most rare 
cases, learn how to deal with women only after long expe- 
rience, and even then most imperfectly. 

Although I have been touching here in a most superficial 
way on what are no more than tertiary sexual characters, I 
wish to point out an application of my conclusions to peda- 
gogy. I am convinced that the more these views are 
understood the more certainly will they lead to an indi- 
vidual treatment in education. At the present time shoe- 
makers, who make shoes to measure, deal more rationally 
with individuals than our teachers and schoolmasters in 
their application of moral principles. ^At present the 
sexually intermediate forms of individuals (especially on 
the female side) are treated exactly as if they were good 
examples of the ideal male or female types. There is 
wanted an " orthopaedic" treatment of the soul instead of 
the torture caused by the appUcation of ready-made con- 
ventional shapes. The present system stamps out much 
that is original, uproots much that is truly natural, and 
distorts much into artificial and unnatural forms.y 

From time immemorial there have been only two systems 
of education ; one for those who come into the world desig- 
nated by one set of characters as males, and another for 
those who are similarly assumed to be females. Almost at 
once the "boys" and the "girls" are dressed differently, 
learn to play different games, go through different courses 
of instruction, the girls being put to stitching and so forth. 


The intermediate individuals are placed at a great disad- 
vantage. And yet the instincts natural to their condition 
reveal themselves quickly enough, often even before puberty. 
There are boys who like to play with dolls, who learn to 
knit and sew with their sisters, and who are pleased to be 
given girls' names. There are girls who delight in the 
noisier sports of their brothers, and who make chums and 
playmates of them. After puberty, there is a still stronger 
display of the innate differences. Manlike women wear their 
hair short, affect manly dress, study, drink, smoke, are fond of 
mountaineering, or devote themselves passionately to sport. 
Womanish men grow their hair long, wear corsets, are 
experts in the toilet devices of women, and show the 
greatest readiness to become friendly and intimate w'th 
them, preferring their society to that of men. 

Later on, the different laws and customs to which the so« 
called sexes are subjected press them as by a vice into 
distinctive moulds. The proposals which should follow 
from my conclusions will encounter more passive resist- 
ance, I fear, in the case of girls than in that of boys. I 
must here contradict, in the most positive fashion, a dogma 
that is authoritatively and widely maintained at the present 
time, the idea that all women are alike, that no individuals 
exist amongst women. It is true that amongst those indi- 
viduals whose constitutions lie nearer the female side than 
the male side, the differences and possibilities are not so 
great as amongst those on the male side ; the greater varia- 
bility of males is true not only for the human race but for 
the living world, and is related to the principles established 
by Darwin. None the less, there are plenty of differences 
amongst women. The psychological origin of this common 
error depends chiefly on a fact that I explained in chap, iii., 
the fact that every man in his life becomes intimate only 
with a group of women defined by his own constitution, 
and so naturally he finds them much alike. /For the 
same reason, and in the same way, one may often hear a 
woman say that all men are alike. And the narrow uniform 
view about men, displayed by most of the leaders of the 


women's rights movement depends on precisely the same 

It is clear that the principle of the existence of innu- 
merable individual proportions of the male and female 
principles is a basis of the study of character which must 
be applied in any rational scheme of pedagogy. 

The science of character must be associated with some 
form of psychology that takes into account some theory of 
the real existence of mental phenomena in the same fashion 
that anatomy is related to physiology. And so it is necessary, 
quite apart from theoretical reasons, to attempt to pursue a 
psychology of individual differences. This attempt will be 
readily enough followed by those who believe in the paral- 
lelism between mind and matter, for they will see in psycho- 
logy no more than the physiology of the central nervous 
system, and Vv^ill readily admit that the science of character 
must be a sister of morphology. As a matter of fact 
there is great hope that in future characterology and mor- 
phology will each greatly help the other. The principle of 
sexually intermediate forms, and still more the parallelism 
between characterology and morphology in the widest 
application, make us look forward to the time when phy- 
siognomy will take its honourable place amongst the 
sciences, a place which so many have attempted to gain 
for it but as yet unsuccessfully. 

The problem of physiognomy is the problem of the rela- 
tion between the static mental forces and the static bodily 
forces, just as the problem of physiological psychology 
deals with the dynamic aspect of the same relations. It is 
a great error in method, and in fact, to treat the study of 
physiognomy, because of its difficulty, as impracticable. 
And yet this is the attitude of contemporary scientific 
circles, unconsciously perhaps rather than consciously, 
but occasionally becoming obvious, as for instance in 
the case of the attempt of von Möbius to pursue the 
work of Gall with regard to the physiognomy of those with 
a natural aptitude for mathematics. ^If it be possible, and 
many have shown that it is possible, to judge correctly 



much of the character of an individual merely from the 
examination of his external appearance, without the aid of 
cross-examination or guessing, it cannot be impossible to 
reduce such modes of observation to an exact method^) There 
is little more required than an exact study of the expression 
of the characteristic emotions and the tracking (to use a 
rough analogy) of the routes of the cabled passing to the 
speech centres. 

None the less it will be long before official science 
ceases to regard the study of physiognomy as illegitimate. 
Although people will still believe in the parallelism of mind 
and body, they will continue to treat the physiognomist as 
as much of a charlatan as until quite recently the hypnotist 
was thought to be. ^None the less, all mankind at least 
unconsciously, and intelligent persons consciously, will 
continue to be physiognomists, people will continue to 
judge character from the nose, although they will not admit 
the existence of a science of physiognomy J and the portraits 
of celebrated men and of murderers will continue to interest 
every one. 

I am inclined to believe that the assumption of a univer- 
sally acquired correspondence between mind and body may 
be a hitherto neglected fundamental function of our mind. 
It is certainly the case that every one believes in physiog- 
nomy and actually practises it. The principle of the exist- 
ence of a definite relation between mind and body must be 
accepted as an illuminating axiom for psychological research, 
and it will be for religion and metaphysics to work out 
the details of a relationship which must be accepted as 

Whether or no the science of character can be linked with 
morphology, it will be valuable not only to these sciences 
but to physiognomy if we can penetrate a little deeper into 
the confusion that now reigns in order to find if wrong 
methods have not been responsible for it. I hope that 
the attempt I am about to make will lead some little 
way into the labyrinth, and will prove to be of general 


Some men are fond of dogs and detest cats ; others are 
devoted to cats and dislike dogs. Inquiring minds have 
delighted to ask in such cases, Why are cats attractive to 
one person, dogs to another ? Why ? 

1 do not think that this is the most fruitful way of stating 
the problem. I believe it to be more important to ask in 
what other respects lovers of dogs and of cats differ from 
one another. The habit, where one difference has been 
detected, of seeking for the associated differences, will 
prove extremely useful not only to pure morphology and to 
the science of character,'(but ultimately to physiognomy, the 
meeting-point of the two science^ Aristotle pointed out 
long ago that many characteristics of animals do not vary 
independently of each other. Later on Cuvier, in par- 
ticular, but also Geoffrey St. Hilaire and Darwin made a 
special study of these " correlations." Occasionally the 
association of the characters is easy to understand on 
obvious utilitarian principles ; where for instance the ali- 
mentary canal is adapted to the digestion of flesh, the jaws 
and body must be adapted for the capture of the prey. But 
association such as that between ruminant stomachs and 
the presence of cloven hoofs and of horns in the male, or 
of immunity to certain poisons with particular colouring of 
the hair, or among domestic pigeons of short bills with 
small feet, of long bills with large feet, or in cats of deafness 
with white fur and blue eyes — such are extremely difficult 
to refer to a single purpose. 

I do not in the least mean to assert that science must be 
content with no more than the mere discovery of correla- 
tions. Such a position would be little better than that of a 
person who was satisfied by finding out that the placing of 
a penny in the slot of a particular automatic machine 
always was followed by the release of a box of matches. It 
would be making resignation the leading principle of meta- 
physics. We shall get a good deal further by such correla- 
tions, as, for instance, that of long hair and normal ovaries ; 
but these are within the sphere of physiology, not of 
morphology. Probably the goal of an ideal morphology 


could be reached best not by deductions from an attempted 
synthesis of observations on all the animals that creep on 
the land or swim in the sea (in the fashion of collectors of 
postage stamps), but by a complete study of a few 
organisms. Cuvier by a kind of guess-work used to re- 
construct an entire animal from a single bone : full 
knowledge would enable us to do this in a complete, 
definite, qualitative and quantitative fashion. When such a 
knowledge has been attained, each single character will at 
once define and limit for us the possibilities of the other 
characters. Such a true and logical extension of the prin- 
ciple of correlation in morphology is really an application 
of the theory of functions to the living world. It would 
not exclude the study of causation, but limit it to its proper 
sphere. No doubt the "causes" of the correlations of 
organisms must be sought for in the idioplasm. 

The possibility of applying the principle of correlated 
variation to psychology depends on differential psychology, 
the study of psychological variation. I believe, moreover, 
that a combination of study of the anatomical "habit," and 
the mental characteristics will lead to a statical psycho- 
physics, a true science of physiognomy. The rule of 
investigation in all the three sciences will have to be that 
the question is posed as follows ; given that two organisms 
are known to differ in one respect, in what other respects 
are they different ? This will be the golden rule of dis- 
covery, and, following it, we shall no longer lose ourselves 
hopelessly in the dark maze that surrounds the answer to 
the question " Why ? " As soon as we are informed as to 
one difference, we must diligently seek out the others, and 
the mere putting of the question in this form will directly 
bring about many discoveries. 

The conscious pursuit of this rule of investigation will be 
particularly valuable in dealing with problems of the mind. 
Mental actions are not co-existent in the sense of physical 
characters, and it has been only by accidental and fortunate 
chances, when the phenomena have presented themselves 
in rapid succession in an individual, that discoveries of 


correlation in mental phenomena have been noticed. The 
correlated mental phenomena may be very different in 
kind, and it is only when we know what we are after and 
deliberately seek for them that we shall be able to transcend 
the special difficulties of the kind of material we are investi- 
gating, and so secure for psychology what is comparatively 
simple in anatomy. 



As an immediate application of the attempt to establish the 
principle of intermediate sexual forms by means of a 
differential psychology, we must now come to the question 
which it is the special object of this book to answer, 
theoretically and practically, I mean the woman question, 
theoretically so far as it is not a matter of ethnology and 
national economics, and practically in so far as it is not 
merely a matter of law and domestic economy, that is to 
say, of social science in the widest sense. The answer 
which this chapter is about to give must not be considered 
as final or as exhaustive. It is rather a necessary pre- 
liminary investigation, and does not go beyond deductions 
from the principles that I have established. It will deal 
with the exploration of individual cases and will not 
attempt to found on these any laws of general significance. 
The practical indications that it will give are not moral 
maxims that could or would guide the future ; they are no 
more than technical rules abstracted from past cases. The 
idea of male and female types will not be discussed here ; 
that is reserved for the second part of my book. This 
preliminary investigation will deal with only those charac- 
tero-logical conclusions from the principle of sexually 
intermediate forms that are of significance in the woman 

The geneial direction of the investigation is easy to 
understand from what has already been stated. A woman's 
demand for emancipation and her qualification for it are in 
direct proportion to the amount of maleness in her. The 


idea of emancipation, however, is many-sided, and its 
indefiniteness is increased by its association with many 
practical customs which have nothing to do with the theory 
of emancipation. By the term emancipation of a woman, 
I imply neither her mastery at home nor her subjection of 
her husband, I have not in mind the courage which 
enables her to go freely by night or by day unaccompanied 
in public places, or the disregard of social rules which 
prohibit bachelor women from receiving visits from men, 
or discussing or listening to discussions of sexual matters. 
I exclude from my view the desire for economic indepen- 
dence, the becoming fit for positions in technical schools, 
universities and conservatoires or teachers' institutes. And 
there may be many other similar movements associated 
with the word emancipation which I do not intend to deal 
with. /Emancipation, as I mean to discuss it, is not the 
wish for an outward equality with man, but what is of real 
importance in the woman question, the deep-seated craving 
to acquire man's character, to attain his mental and moral 
freedom, to reach his real interests and his creative power/ 
I maintain that the real female element has neither the 
desire nor the capacity for emancipation in this sense. All 
those who are striving for this real emancipation, all women 
who are truly famous and are of conspicuous mental ability, 
to the first glance of an expert reveal some of the ana- 
tomical characters of the male, some external bodily resem- 
blance to a man. Those so-called "women" who have 
been held up to admiration in the past and present, by the 
advocates of woman's rights, as examples of what women 
can do, have almost invariably been what I have described 
as sexually intermediate forms. The very first of the his- 
torical examples, Sappho herself, has been handed down to 
us as an example of the sexual invert, and from her name 
has been derived the accepted terms for perverted sexual 
relations between women. The contents of the second and 
third chapter thus at once become important with regard to 
the woman question. The characterological materia) at 
our disposal with regard to celebrated and emancipated 


women is too vague to serve as the foundation of any satis^ 
factory theory. What is wanted is some principle which 
would enable us to determine at what point between male 
and female such individuals were placed. My law of sexual 
affinity is such a principle. Its application to the facts of 
homo-sexuality showed that the woman who attracts and is 
attracted by other women is herself half male. Interpreting 
the historical evidence at our disposal in the light of this 
principle, we find that the degree of emancipation and the 
proportion of maleness in the composition of a woman are 
practically identical. Sappho was only the forerunner of a 
long line of famous women who were either homo-sexually 
or bisexually inclined. Classical scholars have defended 
Sappho warmly against the implication that there was 
anything more than mere friendship in her relations with 
her own sex, as if the accusation were necessarily degrading. 
In the second part of my book, however, I shall show 
reasons in favour of the possibility that homo-sexuality is a 
higher form than hetero-sexuality. For the present, it is 
enough to say that homo-sexuality in a woman is the out- 
come of her masculinity and presupposes a higher degree of 
development. Catherine II. of Russia, and Queen Christina 
of Sweden, the highly gifted although deaf, dumb and blind, 
Laura Bridgman, George Sand, and a very large number of 
highly gifted women and girls concerning whom 1 myself 
have been able to collect information, were partly bisexual, 
partly homo-sexual. 

I shall now turn to other indications in the case of the 
large number of emancipated women regarding whom there 
is no evidence as to homo-sexuality, and I shall show that 
my attribution of maleness is no caprice, no egotistical wish 
of a man to associate all the higher manifestations of intelli- 
gence with the male sex. Just as homo-sexual or bisexual 
women reveal their maleness by their preference either for 
women or for womanish men, so hetero-sexual women dis- 
play maleness in their choice of a male partner who is not 
preponderatingly male. The most famous of George Sand's 
many affairs were those with de Musset, the most effeminat« 


and sentimental poet, and with Chopin, who might be 
described almost as the only female musician, so effeminate 
are his compositions.* Vittoria Colonna is less known 
because of her own poetic compositions than because of 
the infatuation for her shown by Michael Angelo, whose 
earlier friendships had been with youths. The authoress, 
Daniel Stern, was the mistress of Franz Liszt, whose life 
and compositions were extremely effeminate, and who had 
a dubious friendship with Wagner, the interpretation of 
which was made plain by his later devotion to King 
Ludwig IL of Bavaria. Madame de Staal, whose work on 
Germany is probably the greatest book ever produced by a 
woman, is supposed to have been intimate with August 
Wilhelm Schlegel, who was a homo-sexualist, and who had 
been tutor to her children. At certain periods of his life, 
the face of the husband of Clara Schumann might have 
been taken as that of a woman, and a good deal of his 
music, although certainly not all, was effeminate. 

When there is no evidence as to the sexual relations of 
famous women, we can still obtain important conclusions 
from the details of their personal appearance. Such data 
support my general proposition. 

George Eliot had a broad, massive forehead ; her move- 
ments, like her expression, were quick and decided, and 
lacked all womanly grace. The face of Lavinia Fontana 
was intellectual and decided, very rarely charming ; whilst 
that of Rachel Ruysch was almost wholly masculine. The 
biography of that original poetess, Annette von Droste- 
Hülshoff, speaks of her wiry, unwomanly frame, and of her 
face as being masculine, and recalling that of Dante. The 
authoress and mathematician, Sonia Kowalevska, like 
Sappho, had an abnormally scanty growth of hair, still less 
than is the fashion amongst the poetesses and female 

* Chopin's portraits shovp his effeminacy plainly. erimee 

describes George Sand as being as thin as a nail. At the first 
meeting of the two, the lady behaved like a man, and the man like 
a girl. He blushed when she looked at him and began to pay him 
compliments in her bass voice. 


students of the present day. It would be a serious omission 
to forget Rosa Bonheur, the very distinguished painter ; 
and it would be difficult to point to a single female trait 
in her appearance or character. The notorious Madame 
Blavatsky is extremely masculine in her appearance. 

I might refer to many other emancipated women at 
present well known to the public, consideration of whom 
has provided me with much material for the support of 
my proposition that the true female element, the abstract 
"woman," has nothing to do with emancipation. There is 
some historical justification for the saying "the longer the 
hair the smaller the brain," but the reservations made in 
chap. ii. must be taken into account. 

(jt is only the male element in emancipated women that 
craves for emancipation^ 

There is, then, a stronger reason than has generally been 
supposed for the familiar assumption of male pseudonyms 
by women writers. Their choice is a mode of giving ex- 
pression to the inherent maleness they feel ; and this is 
still more marked in the case of those who, like George 
Sand, have a preference for male attire and masculine pur- 
suits. The motive for choosing a man's name springs from 
the feeling that it corresponds with their own character 
much more than from any desire for increased notice from 
the public. As a matter of fact, up to the present, partly 
owing to interest in the sex question, women's writings have 
aroused more interest, ceteris paribus, than those of men ; 
and, owing to the issues involved, have always received a 
fuller consideration and, if there were any justification, a 
greater meed of praise than has been accorded to a man's 
work of equal merit. At the present time especially many 
women have attained celebrity by work which, if it had 
been produced by a man, would have passed almost un- 
noticed. Let us pause and examine this more closely. 

If we attempt to apply a standard taken from the names of 
men who are of acknowledged value in philosophy, science, 
literature and art, to the long list of women who have 
achieved some kind of fame, there will at once be a miserable 


collapse. Judged in this way, it is difficult to grant any 
real degree of merit to women like Angelica Kaufmann or 
Madame Lebrun, Fernan Caballero or Hroswitha von 
Gapküersheim, Mary Somerville or George Egerton, Eliza- 
beth Barrett Browning or Sophie Germain, Anna Maria 
Schurmann or Sybilla Merian. I will not speak of names 
(such as that of Droste-Hülshoff) formerly so over-rated in 
the annals of feminism, nor will I refer to the measure of 
fame claimed for or by living women. It is enough to 
make the general statement that there is not a single woman 
in the history of thought, not even the most manlike, who 
can be truthfully compared with men of fifth or sixth-rate 
genius, for instance with Riickert as a poet. Van Dyck as a 
painter, or Scheirmacher as a philosopher. If we eliminate 
hysterical visionaries,* such as the Sybils, the Priestesses 
of Delphi, Bourignon, Kettenberg, Jeanna de la Mothe 
Guyon, Joanna Southcote, Beate Sturmin, St. Teresa, there 
still remain cases like that of Marie Bashkirtseff. So far as 
I can remember from her portrait, she at least seemed to be 
qui^e womanly in face and figure, although her forehead 
was rather masculine. But to any one who studies her 
pictures in the Salle des Etrangers in the Luxemburg 
Gallery in Paris, and compares them with those of her 
adored master, Bastien Lepage, it is plain that she simply 
had assimilated the style of the latter, as in Goethe's " Elec- 
tive Affinities " Ottilie acquired the handwriting of Eduard. 
There remain the interesting and not infrequent cases 
where the talent of a clever family seems to reach its maxi- 
mum in a female member of the family. But it is only 
talent that is transmitted in this way, not genius. Mar- 
garethe van Eyck and Sabina von Steinbach form the best 
illustrations of the kind of artists who, according to Ernst 
Guhl, in author with a great admiration for women- workers, 
" have been undoubtedly influenced in their choice of an 

* Hysteria is the principal cause of much of the intellectual 
activity of many of the women above mentioned. But the usual 
view, that these cases are pathological, is too limited an interpreta- 
tion, us I shall show in the second part of this work. 


artistic calling by their fathers, mothers, or brothers. In 
other words, they found their incentive in their own families. 
There are two or three hundred of such cases on record, 
and probably many hundreds more could be added without 
exhausting the numbers of similar instances." In order to 
give due weight to these statistics it may be mentioned that 
Guhl had just been speaking of " roughly, a thousand names 
of women artists known to us." 

This concludes my historical review of the emancipated 
women. It has justified the assertion that real desire for 
emancipation and real fitness for it are the outcome of a 
woman's maleness. 

"NThe vast majority of women have never paid special 
attention to art or to science, and regard such occupations 
merely as higher branches of manual labour, or if they pro- 
fess a certain devotion to such subjects, it is chiefly as a 
mode of attracting a particular person or group of persons 
of the opposite sex.) Apart from these, a close investigation 
shows that women really interested in intellectual matters 
are sexually intermediate forms. 

If it be the case that the desire for freedom and equality 
with man occurs only in masculine women, the inductive 
conclusion follows that the female principle is not conscious 
of a necessity for emancipation ; and the argument becomes 
stronger if we remember that it is based on an examination 
of the accounts of individual cases and not on psychical 
investigation of an " abstract woman." 

If we now look at the question of emancipation from the 
point of view of hygiene (not morality) there is no doubt as 
to the harm in it. The undesirability of emancipation lies 
in the excitement and agitation involved. It induces women 
who have no real original capacity but undoubted imitative 
powers to attempt to study or write, from various motives, 
such as vanity or the desire to attract admirers. Whilst it 
cannot be denied that there are a good many women with 
a real craving for emancipation and for higher education, 
these set the fashion and are followed by a host of others 
who get up a ridiculous agitation to convince themselves of 


the reality of their views. And many otherwise estimable 
and worthy wives use the cry to assert themselves against 
their husbands, whilst daughters take it as a method of 
rebelling against maternal authority. The practical outcome 
of the whole matter would be as follows ; it being remem- 
bered that the issues are too mutable for the establishment 
of uniform rules or laws. Let there be the freest scope 
given to, and the fewest hindrances put in the way of all 
women with masculine dispositions who feel a psychical 
necessity to devote themselves to masculine occupations and 
are physically fit to undertake them. But the idea of mak- 
ing an emancipation party, of aiming at a social revolution, 
must be abandoned. Away with the whole ** woman's 
movement," with its unnaturalness and artificiality and its 
fundamental errors. 

It is most important to have done with the senseless cry 
for " full equality," for even the malest woman is scarcely 
more than 50 per cent, male, and it is only to that male 
part of her that she owes her special capacity or whatever 
importance she may eventually gam. It is absurd to make 
comparisons between the few really intellectual women 
and one's average experience of men, and to deduce, as 
has been done, even the superiority of the female sex. 
As Darwin pointed out, the proper comparison is between 
the most highly developed individuals of two stocks. 
" If two lists," Darwin wrote in the " Descent of Man," 
" were made of the most eminent men and women in 
poetry, painting, sculpture, music — comprising composition 
and performance, history, science, and philosophy, with 
half a dozen names under each subject, the two lists 
would not bear comparison." Moreover, if these lists 
were carefully examined it would be seen that the 
women's list would prove the soundness of my theory 
of the maleness of their genius, and the comparison would 
be still less pleasing to the champions of woman's rights» 

It is frequently urged that it is necessary to create a 
public feeling in favour of the full and unchecked mental 
development of women. Such an argument overlooks 


the fact that " emancipation," the " woman question," 
" women's rights movements," are no new things in history, 
but have always been with us, although with varying 
prominence at different times in history. It also largely 
exaggerates the difficulties men place in the way of the 
mental development of women, especially at the present 
time.* Furthermore it neglects the fact that at the present 
time it is not the true woman who clamours for eman- 
cipation, but only the masculine type of woman, who 
misconstrues her own character and the motives that 
actuate her when she formulates her demands in the name 
of woman. 

<s^s has been the case with every other movement in 
history, so also it has been with the contemporary woman's 
movement. Its origmators were convmced that it was being 
put forward for the first time, and that such a thing had 
never been thought of before. They maintained that women 
had hitherto been held in bondage and enveloped in dark- 
ness by man, and that it was high time for her to assert her- 
self and claim her natural rights./ 

But the prototype of this movement, as of other move- 
ments, occurred in the earliest times. Ancient history and 
mediaeval times alike give us instances of women who, in 
social relations and intellectual matters, fought for such 
emancipation, and of male and female apologists of the 
female sex. It is totally erroneous to suggest that hitherto 
women have had no opportunity for the undisturbed 
development of their mental powers. 

Jacob Burckhardt, speaking of the Renaissance, says : 
" The greatest possible praise which could be given to the 
Italian women-celebrities of the time was to say that they 
were like men in brains and disposition ! " The virile 
deeds of women recorded in the epics, especially those of 
Boiardo and Ariosto, show the ideal of the time. To call 

* There have been many celebrities amongst men who received 
practically no education — for instance, Robert Burns and Wolfram 
von Eschenbach ; but there are no similar cases amongst women to 
compare with them- 


>a woman a "virago " nowadays would be a doubtful com- 
ipliment, but it originally meant an honour. 

Women were first allowed on the stage in the sixteenth 
century, and actresses date from that time. " At that 
period it was admitted that women were just as capable as 
men of embodying the highest possible artistic ideals." 
It was the period when panegyrics on the female sex were 
rife ; Sir Thomas More claimed for it full equality with the 
male sex, and Agrippa von Nettesheim goes so far as to 
represent women as superior to men ! And yet this was 
all lost for the fair sex, and the whole question sank into 
the oblivion from which the nineteenth century recalled it. 

Is it not very remarkable that the agitation for the eman- 
cipation of women seems to repeat itself at certain intervals 
in the world's history, and lasts for a definite period ? 

yt has been noticed that in the tenth, fifteenth, and six- 
teenth, and now again in the nineteenth and twentieth 
centuries, the agitation for the emancipation of women has 
been more marked, and the woman's movement more 
vigorous than in the intervening periods. It would be 
premature to found a hypothesis on the data at our dis- 
posal, but the possibility of a vastly important periodicity 
must be borne in mind, of regularly recurring periods in 
which it may be that there is an excess of production of 
hermaphrodite and sexually intermediate forms. Such a 
state of affairs is not unknown in the animal kingdom. 

According to my interpretation, such a period would be 
one of minimum " gonochorism," cleavage of the sexes ; 
and it would be marked, on the one hand, by an increased 
production of male women, and on the other, by a similar 
increase in female men. There is strong evidence in favour 
of such a periodicity ; if it occurs it may be associated with 
the "secessionist taste," which idealised tall, lanky women 
with fiat chests and narrow hips.^ The enormous recent 
increase in a kind of dandified homo-sexuality may be due 
to the increasing effeminacy of the age, and the peculiarities 
of the Pre-Raphaelite movement may have a similar 


The existence of such periods in organic Hfe, comparable 
with stages in individual life, but extending over several 
generations, would, if proved, throw much light on many 
obscure points in human history, concerning which the 
so-called " historical solutions," and especially the economic- 
materialistic views now in vogue have proved so futile. The 
history of the world from the biological standpoint has still 
to be written ; it lies in the future. Here 1 can do little more 
than indicate the direction which future work should take. 

Were it proved that at certain periods fewer herma- 
phrodite beings were produced, and at certain other periods 
more, it would appear that the rising and falling, the periodic 
occurrence and disappearance of the woman movement in 
an unfailing rhythm of ebb and flow, was one of the ex- 
pressions of the preponderance of masculine and feminine 
women with the concomitant greater or lesser desire for 

Obviously I do not take into account in relation to the 
woman question the large number of womanly women, the 
wives of the prolific artisan class whom economic pressure 
forces to factory or field labour. The connection between 
industrial progress and the woman question is much less 
close than is usually realised, especially by the Social 
Democratic Group. The relation between the mental 
energy required for intellectual and for industrial pursuits 
is even less. .^France, for instance, although it can boast 
three of the most famous women, has never had a successful 
woman's movement, and yet in no other European country 
are there so many really businesslike, capable womei'^^ 
The struggle for the material necessities of life has nothing 
to do with the struggle for intellectual development, and a 
sharp distinction mast be made between the two. 

The pro-pects of the movement for intellectual advance 
on the part of women are not very promising ; but still less 
promising is another view, sometimes discussed in the 
same connection, the view that^he human race is moving 
towards a complete sexual differentiation, a definite sexual 


The latter view seems to me fundamentally untenable, 
because in the higher groups of the animal kingdom there 
is no evidence for the increase of sexual dimorphism. 
Worms and rotifers, many birds and the mandrills amongst 
the apes, have more advanced sexual dimorphism than man. 
On the view that such an increased sexual dimorphism 
were to be expected, the necessity for emancipation would 
gradually disappear as mankind became separated into the 
completely male and the completely female. On the other 
hand, the view that there will be periodical resurrections 
of the woman's movement would reduce the whole affair to 
ridiculous impotence, making it only an ephemeral phase in 
the history of mankind. 

A complete obliteration will be the fate of any emancipa- 
tion movement which attempts to place the whole sex in a 
new relation to society, and to see in man its perpetual 
oppressor. A corps of Amazons might be formed, but as 
time went on the material for the corps would cease to 
occur. The history of the woman movement during the 
Renaissance and its complete disappearance contains a 
lesson for the advocates of women's rights. Real intellectual 
freedom cannot be attained by an agitated mass ; it must be 
fought for by the individual. Who is the enemy ? What 
are the retarding influences ? 

The greatest, the one enemy of the emancipation of 
women is woman herself. It is left to the second part of 
my work to prove this. 




" All that a man does is physiognomical of him." 


A FREE field for the investigation of the actual contrasts 
between the sexes is gained when we recognise that male 
and female, man and woman, must be considered only as 
types, and that the existing individuals, upon whose quali- 
ties there has been so much controversy, are mixtures of the 
types in different proportions. {Sexually intermediate forms, 
which are the only actually existing individualsy^were dealt 
with in a more or less schematic fashion in the first part of 
this book. Consideration of the general biological applica- 
tion of my theory was entered upon there ; but now I have 
to make mankind the special subject of my investigation, 
and to show the defects of the results gained by the method 
of introspective analysis, as these results must be qualified 
by the universal existence of sexually intermediate condi- 
tions. In plants and animals the presence of hermaphro- 
ditism is an undisputed fact ; but in them it appears more 
to be the juxtaposition of the male and female genital 
glands in the same individual than an actual fusion of the 
two sexes, more the co-existence of the two extremes than 
a quite neutral condition. In the case of human beings, 
however, it appears to be psychologically true that an indi- 
vidual, at least at one and the same moment, is always 
either man or woman. This is in harmony with the fact 
that each individual, whether superficially regarded as male 
or female, at once can recognise his sexual complement in. 


another individual "woman" or " man."* This uni-sexuaHty 
is demonstrated by the fact, the theoretical value of which 
can hardly be over-estimated, that, in the relations of two 
homo-sexual men one always plays the physical and psy- 
chical roll of the man, and in cases of prolonged inter- 
course retains his male first-name, or takes one, whilst the 
other, who plays the part of the woman, either assumes a 
woman's name or calls himself by it, or — and this is suffi- 
ciently characteristic — receives it from the former. 

In the same way, in the sexual relations of two women, 
one always plays the male and the other the female part, a 
fact of deepest significance. Here we encounter, in a 
most unexpected fashion, the fundamental relationship 
between the male and female elements. In spite of all 
sexually intermediate conditions, human beings are always 
one of two things, either male or female. There is a deep 
truth underlying the old empirical sexual duality, and this 
must not be neglected, even although in concrete cases 
there is not a necessary harmony in the anatomical and 
morphological conditions. To realise this is to make a 
great step forward and to advance towards most important 
results. In this way we reach a conception of a real 
" being." The task of the rest of this book is to set forth 
the significance of this " existence." As, however, this 
existence is bound up with the most difficult side of 
characterology, it will be well, before setting out on our 
adventurous task, to attempt some preliminary orientation. 

The obstacles in the way of characterological investiga- 
tion are very great, if only on account of the complexity of 
the material. Often and often it happens that when the 
path through the jungle appears to have been cleared, it is 
lost again in impenetrable thickets, and it seems impossible 

* I once heard a bi-sexual man exclaim, when he saw a bi-sexual 
actress with a slight tendency to a beard, a deep sonorous voice, 
and very little hair on her head, " There is a fine woman." 
" Woman " means something different for every man or for every 
poet, and yet it is always the same, the sexual complement of their 
own constitution. 


to recover it. But the greatest difficulty is that when the 
systematic method of setting out the complex material has 
been proceeded with and seems about to lead to good 
results, then at once objections of the most serious kind 
arise and almost forbid the attempt to make types. With 
regard to the differences between the sexes, for instance, 
the most useful theory that has been put forward is the 
existence of a kind of polarity, two extremes separated by 
a multitude of intermediate conditions. The characterolo- 
gical differences appear to follow this rule in a fashion not 
dissimilar to the suggestion of the Pythagorean, Alcmaeon 
of Kroton, and recalling the recent chemical resurrection 
of Schelling's " Natur-philosophie." 

But even if we are able to determine the exact point 
occupied by an individual on the line between two ex- 
tremes, and multiply this determination by discovering it 
for a great many characters, would this complex system of 
co-ordmate lines really give us a conception of the indivi- 
dual ? Would it not be a relapse to the dogmatic scepticism 
of Mach and Hume, were we to expect that an analysis 
could be a full description of the human individual ? 
And in a fashion it would be a sort of Weismannistic doc- 
trine of particulate determinants, a mosaic psychology. 

/rhis brings us in a new way directly against the old, over- 
ripe problem. Is there in a man a single and simple exist- 
ence, and, if so, in what relation does that stand to the ^' 
complex psychical phenomena ? Has man, indeed, a soul ? 
It is easy to understand why there has never been a science 
of character. The object of such a science, the character 
itself, is problematical. The problem of all metaphysics 
and theories of knowledge, the fundamental problem of 
psychology, is also the problem of characterology. At the 
least, characterology will have to take into account the 
the'^ry of knowledge itself with regard to its postulates, 
claims, and objects, and will have to attempt to obtain infor- 
mation as to all the differences in the nature of men./ 

This unlimited science of character will be something 
more than the " psychology of individual differences," the 



renewed insistence upon which as a goal of science we owe 
to L. William Stern ; it will be more than a sort of polity of 
the motor and sensory reactions of the individual, and in so 
far will not sink so low as the usual " results " of the modern 
experimental psychologists, which, indeed, are little more 
than statistics of physical experiments. It will hope to 
retain some kind of contact with the actuahties of the soul 
which the modern school of psychology seems to have 
forgotten, and will not have to fear that it will have to offer 
to ardent students of psychology no more than profound 
studies of words of one syllable, or of the results on the 
mind of small doses of caffein. It is a lamentable testimony 
to the insufficiency of modern psychology that distinguished 
men of science, who have not been content with the study 
of perception and association, have yet had to hand over to 
poetry the explanation of such fundamental facts as heroism 
and self-sacrifice. 
{No science will become shallow so quickly as psychology 
if it deserts philosophy. Its separation from philosophy is 
the true cause of its impotency. Psychology will have to 
discover that the doctrine of sensations is practically useless 
to it. The empirical psychologists of to-day, in their search 
for the development of character, begin with investigation 
of touch and the common sensations. But the analysis of 
sensations is simply a part of the physiology of sense, and 
any attempt to bring it into relation with the real problems 
of psychology must fail!\ 

It is a misfortune of the scientific psychology of the day 
that it has been influenced so deeply by two physicists, 
Fechner and von Helmholtz, with the result that it has 
failed to recognise that only the external and not the 
internal world can be reconstructed from sensations. The 
two most intelligent of the empirical psychologists of recent 
times, William James and R. Avenarius, have felt almost 
instinctively that psychology cannot really rest upon sensa- 
tions of the skin and muscles, although, indeed, all modern 
psychology does depend upon study of sensations. Dilthey 
did not lay enough stress on his argument that existing 


psychology does nothing towards problems that are 
eminently psychological, such as murder, friendship, lone- 
liness, and so forth. If anything is to be gained in the 
future there must be a demand for a really psychological 
psychology, and its first battle-cry must be : " Away with 
the study of sensations." 

In attempting the broad and deep characterology that I 
have indicated, I must set out with a conception of character 
itself as a unit existence. As in the fifth chapter of Part I., 
I tried to show that behind the fleeting physiological changes 
there is a permanent morphological form, so in charac- 
terology we must seek the permanent, existing something 
through the fleeting changes. 

\The character, however, is not something seated behind 
the thoughts and feelings of the individual, but something 
revealing itself in every thought and feeling. " All that a 
man does is physiognomical of him." Just as every cell 
bears within it the characters of the whole individual, so 
every psychical manifestation of a man involves not merely a 
few little characteristic traits, but his whole being, of which 
at one moment one quality, at another moment another 
quality, comes into prominence.^ 

Just as no sensation is ever isolated, but is set in a com- 
plete field of sensation, the world of the Ego, of which now 
one part and now the other, stands out more plainly, so the 
whole man is manifest in every moment of the psychical 
life, although, now one side, now the other, is more visible. 
This existence, manifest in every moment of the psychical 
life, is the object of characterology. By accepting this, 
there will be completed for the first time a real psychology, 
existing psychology, in manifest contradiction of the mean- 
ing of the word, having concerned itself almost entirely with 
the motley world, the changing field of sensations, and over- 
looked the ruling force of the Ego. The new psychology 
would be a doctrine of the whole, and would become fresh 
and fertile inasmuch as it would combine the complexity 
of the subject and of the object, two spheres which can be 
separated only in abstraction. Many disputed points of 


psychology (perhaps the most important) would be settled 
by an application of such characterology, as that would 
explain why so many different views have been held on the 
same subject. The same psychical process appears from 
time to time in different aspects, merely because it takes tone 
and colouring from the individual character. And so it 
well may be that the doctrine of differential psychology may 
receive its completion in the domain -of general psychology. 
vThe confusion of characterology with the doctrine of the 
soul has been a great misfortune, but because this has 
occurred in actual history, is no reason why it should con- 
tinue. The absolute sceptic differs only in a word from the 
absolute dogmatist. The man who dogmatically accepts 
the position of absolute phenomenalism, believing it to 
relieve him of all the burden of proof that the mere entering 
on another standpoint would itself entail, will be ready to 
dismiss without proof the existence which characterology 
posits, and which has nothing to do with a metaphysical 
" essence."/ 

Characterology has to defend itself against two great 
enemies. The one assumes that character is something 
ultimate, and as little the subject-matter of science as is 
the art of a painter. The other looks on the sensations 
as the only realities, on sensation as the ground-work of 
the world of the Ego, and denies the existence of cha- 
racter. What is left for characterology, the science of 
character ? On the one hand, there are those who cry, 
" Deindividuo nulla scientia," and " Individuum est ineffa- 
bile " ; on the other hand, there are those sworn to 
science, who maintain that science has nothing to do with 

In such a cross-fire, characterology has to take its place, 
and it may well be feared that it may share the fate of its 
sisters and remain a trivial subject like physiognomy or a 
diviner's art like graphology. 



" Woman does not betray her secret." 


" From a woman you can learn nothing of women." 



Py psychology, as a whole, we generally understand the 
psychology of the psychologists, and these are exclusively 
men ! Never since human history began have we heard 
of a female psychology !,) None the less the psychology 
of woman constitutes a chapter as important with regard to 
general psychology as that of the child. And inasmuch as 
the psychology of man has always been written with un- 
conscious but definite reference to man, general psychology 
has become simply the psychology of men, and the problem 
of the psychology of the sexes will be raised as soon as the 
existence of a separate psychology of women has been 
realised. Kant said that in anthropology the peculiarities 
of the female were more a study for the philosopher than 
those of the male, and it may be that the psychology of the 
sexes will disappear in a psychology of the female. 

None the less the psychology of women will have to be 
written by men. It is easy to suggest that such an attempt 
is foredoomed to failure, inasmuch as the conclusions must 
be drawn from an alien sex and cannot be verified by intro- 
spection. Granted the possibility that woman could 
describe herself with sufficient exactness, it by no means 
follows that she would be interested in the sides of her 


character that would interest us. Moreover, even if she 
could and would explore herself fully, it is doubtful if she 
could bring herself to talk about herself. I shall show that | 
these three improbabilities spring from the same source j 
in the nature of woman. 

This investigation, therefore, lays itself open to the 
charge that no one who is not female can be in a posi- 
tion to make accurate statements about women. In the 
meantime the objection must stand, although, later, I shall 
have more to say of it. I will say only this much — up to 
now, and is this only a consequence of man's suppression ? — 
we have no account from a pregnant woman of her sensa- 
tions and feelings, neither in poetry nor in memoirs, nor 
even in a gynaecological treatise. This cannot be on 
account of excessive modesty, for, as Schopenhauer rightly 
pointed out, there is nothing so far removed from a pregnant 
woman as shame as to her condition. Besides, there would 
still remain to them the possibility of, after the birth, con- 
fessing from memory the psychical life during the time ; if 
a sense of shame had prevented them from such communi- 
cation during the time, it would be gone afterwards, and 
the varied interests of such a disclosure ought to have 
induced some one to break silence. But this has not been 
done. Just as we have always been indebted to men for 
really trustworthy expositions of the psychical side of 
women, so also it is to men that we owe descriptions of 
the sensations of pregnant women. What is the meaning 
of this ? 

Although in recent times we have had revelations of the 
psychical life of half-women and three-quarter women, it is 
practically only about the male side of them that they have 
written. We have really only one clue ; we have to rely 
upon the female element in men. The principle of sexually 
intermediate forms is the authority for what we know about 
women through men. I shall define and complete the 
application of this principle later on. In its indefinite form, 
the principle would seem to imply that the most womanish 
man would be best able to describe woman, and that the 


description might be completed by the real woman. 
This, however, is extremely doubtful. I must point out 
that a man can have a considerable proportion of female- 
ness in him without necessarily, to the same extent, being 
able to portray intermediate forms. It is the more remark- 
able that the male can give a faithful account of the nature 
of the female ; since, indeed, it must be admitted from the 
extreme maleness of successful portrayers of women that 
we cannot dispute the existence of this capacity in the 
abstract male ; this power of the male over the female is a 
most remarkable problem, and we shall have to consider it 
later. For the present we must take it as a fact, and pro- 
ceed to inquire in what lies the actual psychological 
difference between male and female. 

It has been sought to attribute the fundamental difference 
of the sexes to the existence of a stronger sexual impulse in 
man, and to derive everything else from that. Apart from the 
question as to whether the phrase "sexual instinct" denotes 
a simple and real thing, it is to be doubted if there is proof of 
such a difference. It is not more probable than the ancient 
theories as to the influence of the "unsatistied womb" in 
the female, or of the " semen retentum " in men, and we 
have to be on guard against the current tendency to refer 
nearly everything to sublimated sexual instinct. No sys- 
tematic theory could be founded on a generalisation so 
vague. It is most improbable that the greater or lesser 
strength of the sexual impulse determines other qualities. 

O^s a matter of fact, the statements that men have stronger 
sexual impulses than women, or that women have them 
stronger than men, are false. The strength of the sexual 
impulse in a man does not depend upon the proportion of 
masculinity in his composition, and in the same way the 
degree of femininity of a woman does not determine her 
sexual impulse*' These differences in mankind still await 

Contrary to the general opinion, there is no difference in 
the total sexual impulses of the sexes. However, if we 
examine the matter in respect to the two component forces 


into which Albert Moll analysed the impulse, we shall find 
that a difference does exist. These forces may be termed 
the " liberating " and the " uniting " impulses. The first 
appears in the form of the discomfort caused by the accu- 
mulation of ripe sexual cells ; the second is the desire of 
the ripe individual for sexual completion. Both impulses 
are possessed by the male ; in the female only the latter is 
present. The anatomy and the physiological processes of 
the sexes bear out the distinction. 

In this connection it may be noted that only the most 
male youths are addicted to masturbation, and although 
it is often disputed, I believe that similar vices occur only 
among the maler of women, and are absent from the female 

I must now discuss the "uniting" impulse of women, for 
that plays the chief, if not the sole part in her sexuality. 
But it must not be supposed that this is greater in one sex 
than the other. Any such idea comes from a confusion 
between the desire for a thing and the stimulus towards the 
active part in securing what is desired. Throughout the 
animal and plant kingdoms, the male reproductive cells are 
the motile, active agents, which move through space to seek 
out the passive female cells, and this physiological difference 
is sometimes confused with the actual wish for, or stimulus 
to, sexual union. And to add to the confusion, it happens, 
in the animal kingdom particularly, that the male, in addition 
to the directly sexual stimulus, has the instinct to pursue 
and bodily capture the female, whilst the latter has only the 
passive part to be taken possession of. These differences 
of habit must not be mistaken for real differences of desire. 

It can be shown, moreover, that woman is sexually much 
more excitable (not more sensitive) physiologically than 

/The condition of sexual excitement is the supreme moment 
of a woman's life.; The woman is devoted wholly to sexual 
matters, that is to say, to the spheres of begetting and of 
reproduction. Her relations to her husband and children 
complete her life, whereas the male is something more than 


sexual. In this respect, rather than in the relative strength 
of the sexual impulses, there is a real difference between the 
sexes.y It is important to distinguish between the intensity 
with which sexual matters are pursued and the proportion 
of the total activities of life that are devoted to them and to 
their accessory cares. The greater absorption of the human 
female by the sphere of sexual activities is the most signifi- 
cant difference between the sexes. 

The female, moreover, is completely occupied and content 
with sexual matters, whilst the male is interested in much 
else, in war and sport, in social affairs and feasting, in philo- 
sophy and science, in business and politics, in religion and 
art. I do not mean to imply that this difference has always 
existed, as I do not think that important. As in the case of 
the Jewish question, it may be said that the Jews have their 
present character because it has been forced upon them, and 
that at one time they were different. It is now impossible to 
prove this, and we may leave it to those who believe in the 
modification by the environment to accept it. The his- 
torical evidence is equivocal on the point. In the question 
of women, we have to take people as they exist to-day. If, 
however, we happen to come on attributes that could not 
possibly have been grafted on them from without, we may 
believe that such have always been with them. Of contem- 
porary women at least one thing is certain. Apart from 
an exception to be noted in chap. xii.,(it is certain that 
when the female occupies herself with matters outside the 
interests of sex, it is for the man that she loves or by whom 
she wishes to be loved^ She takes no real interest in the 
things for themselves. It may happen that a real female 
learns Latin ; if so, it is for some such purpose as to help her 
son who is at school. Desire for a subject and ability for 
it, interest in it, and the facility for acquiring it, are usually 
proportional. He who has slight muscles has no desire to 
wield an axe ; those without the faculty for mathematics do 
not desire to study that subject. Talent seems to be rare 
and feeble in the real female (although possibly it is merely 
that the dominant sexuality prevents its development), with 


the result that woman has no power of forming the com- 
binations which, although they do not actually make the 
individuality, certainly shape it. 

Corresponding to true women, there are extremely female 
men who are to be found always in the apartments of the 
women, and who are interested in nothing but love and 
sexual matters. Such men, however, are not the Don Juans. 
(The female principle is, then, nothing more than sexuality ; 
the male principle is sexual and something more.') This 
difference is notable in the different way in which men and 
women enter the period of puberty. In the case of the 
male the onset of puberty is a crisis; he feels that something 
new and strange has come into his being, that something 
has been added to his powers and feelmgs independently of 
his will. The physiological stimulus to sexual activity appears 
to come from outside his being, to be independent of his will, 
and many men remember the disturbing event throughout 
their after lives. The woman, on the other hand, not only 
is not disturbed by the onset of puberty, but feels that her 
importance has been increased by it. The male, as a youth, 
has no longing for the onset of sexual maturity ; the female, 
from the time when she is still quite a young girl, looks 
forward to that time as one from which everything is to be 
expected. Man's arrival at maturity is frequently accom- 
panied by feelings of repulsion and disgust ; the young 
female watches the development of her body at the approach 
of puberty with excitement and impatient delight. It seems 
as if the onset of puberty were a side path in the normal 
development of man, whereas in the case of woman it is the 
direct conclusion. There are few boys approaching puberty 
to whom the idea that they would marry (in the general 
sense, not a particular girl) would not appear ridiculous, 
whilst the smallest girl is almost invariably excited and 
interested in the question of her future marriage. For such 
reasons a woman assigns positive value only to her period of 
maturity in her own case and in that of other women ; in 
childhood, as in old age, she has no real relation to the 
world. \The thought of her childhood is for her, later on, 


only the remembrance of her stupidity ; she faces the 
/approach of old age with dislike and abhorrence^ The only 
real memories of her childhood are connected with sex, and 
these fade away in the intensely greater significance of her 
maturity. The passage of a woman from virginity is the 
great dividing point of her life, whilst the corresponding 
event in the case of a male has very little relation to the 
course of his life./ 

Woman is only sexual, man is partly sexual, and this 
difference reveals itself in various ways. The parts of the 
male body by stimulation of which sexuality is excited are 
limited in area, and are strongly localised, whilst in the case 
of the woman, they are diffused over her whole body, so 
that stimulation may take place almost from any part. 
When in the second chapter of Part I., I explained that 
sexuality is distributed over the whole body in both sexes, I 
did not mean that, therefore, the sense organs, through which 
the definite impulses are stimulated, were equally distributed. 
There are, certainly, areas of greater excitability, even in the 
case of the woman, but there is not, as in the man, a sharp 
division between the sexual areas and the body generally. 

'The morphological isolation of the sexual area from the 
rest of the body in the case of man, may be taken as sym- 
bolical of the relation of sex to his whole nature./ Just as 
there is a contrast between the sexual and the sexless parts 
of a man's body, so there is a time-change in his sexuality. 
&he female is always sexual, the male is sexual only inter- 
mittently. The sexual instinct is always active in woman 
(as to the apparent exceptions to this sexuality of women, I 
shall have to speak later on), whilst in man it is at rest from 
time to time. And thus it happens that the sexual impulse of 
the male is eruptive in character and so appears stronger. 
The real difference between the sexes is that in the male 
the desire is periodical, in the female continuous/ 

This exclusive and persisting sexuality of the female has 
important physical and psychical consequences. As the 
sexuality of the male is an adjunct to his life, it is possible 
for him to keep it in the physiological background, and out 


of his consciousness. And so a man can lay aside his 
sexuality and not have to reckon with it. A woman has not 
her sexuality limited to periods of time, nor to localised 
organs. (And so it happens that a man can know about his 
sexuality, whilst a woman is unconscious of it and can in 
all good faith deny it, because she is nothing but sexuality, 
because she is sexuality itself.) 
vjt is impossible for women, because they are only sexual 
to recognise their sexuality, because recognition of anything 
requires duality. With man it is not only that he is not 
merely sexual, but anatomically and physiologically he can 
" detach " himself from it. That is why he has the power 
to enter into whatever sexual relations he desires ; if he 
likes he can limit or increase such relations ; he can refuse 
or assent to them. He can play the part of a Don Juan or 
a monk. He can assume which he will. To put it bluntly, 
man possesses sexual organs ; her sexual organs possess 

We i^ay, therefore, deduce from the previous arguments 
that man has the power of consciousness of his sexuality 
and so can act against it, whilst the woman appears to 
be without this power. This implies, moreover, that there is 
greater differentiation in man, as in him the sexual and the 
unsexual parts of his nature are sharply separated. The 
possibility or impossibility of being aware of a particular 
definite object is, however, hardly a part of the customary 
meaning of the word consciousness, which is generally used 
as implying that if a being is conscious he can be conscious 
of any object. This brings me to consider the nature of 
the female consciousness, and I must take a long detour to 
consider it. 



Before proceeding to consider the main difference between 
the psychical hfe of the sexes, so far as the latter takes 
subjective and objective things as its contents, a few psy- 
chological soundings must be taken, and conceptions 
formulated. As the views and principles of prevailing 
systems of psychology have been formed without con- 
sideration of the subject of this book, it is not surprising 
that they contain little that I am able to use. (At present 
there is no psychology but many psychologists^ and it 
would really be a matter of caprice on my part to choose 
any particular school and attempt to apply its principles 
to my subject. I shall rather try to lay down a few useful 
principles on my own account. 

The endeavours to reach a comprehensive and unifying 
conception of the whole psychical process by referring it to 
a single principle have been particularly evident in the 
relations between perceptions and sensations suggested by 
different psychologists. Herbart, for instance, derived 
the sensations from elementary ideas, whilst Horwicz 
supposed them to come from perceptions. Most modern 
psychologists have insisted that such monistic attempts 
must be fruitless. None the less there was some truth in 
the view. 

/To discover this truth, however, it is necessary to make a 
distinction that has been overlooked by modern workers. 
We must distinguish between the perceiving of a percep- 
tion, feeling of a sensation, thinking a thought from the 
later repetitions of the process in which recognition plays a 


part. In many cases this distinction is of fundamental 

Every simple, clear, plastic perception and every distinct 
idea, before it could be put into words, passes through a 
stage (which may indeed be very short) of indistinctness. 
So also in the case of association ; for a longer or shorter 
time before the elements about to be grouped have actually 
come together, there is a sort of vague, generalised expecta- 
tion or presentiment of association^ Leibnitz, in particular, 
has worked at kindred processes, and I believe them to 
underlie the attempts of Herbart and Horwicz. 

The common acceptance of pleasure and pain as the 
fundamental sensations, even with Wundt's addition of the 
sensations of tension and relaxation, of rest and stimulation, 
makes the division of psychical phenomena into sensations 
and perceptions too narrow for due treatment of the vague 
preliminary stages to which I have referred. I shall go back 
therefore to the widest classification of psychical phenomena 
that I know of, that of Avenarius into " elements " and 
" characters." The word " character " in this connection, 
of course, has nothing to do with the subject of charac- 

Avenarius added to the difficulty of applying his theories 
by his use of a practically new terminology (which is cer- 
tainly most striking and indispensable for some of the new 
views he expounded). But what stands most in the way of 
accepting some of his conclusions is his desire to derive his 
psychology from the physiology of the brain, a physiology 
which he evolved himself out of his inner consciousness 
with only a slight general acquaintance with actual biological 
facts. The psychological, or second part of his " Critique 
of Pure Experience," was really the source from which he 
derived the first or physiological part, with the result that 
the latter appears to its readers as an account of some dis- 
covery in Atlantis. Because of these difficulties I shall 
give here a short account of the system of Avenarius, as I 
find it useful for my thesis. 

An " Element " in the sense of Avenarius represents what 


thV usual psychology terms a perception^ or the content of a 
perception, what Schopenhauer called a presentation, what 
in England is called an " impression " or " idea," the 
" thing," " fact," or "object" of ordinary language; and 
the word is used independently of the presence or absence 
of a special sense-organ stimulation — a most important and 
novel addition. In the sense of Avenarius, and for our 
purpose, it is a matter of indifference to the terminology how 
far what is called " analysis " takes place, the whole tree may 
be taken as the " element," or each single leaf, or each hair, 
or (where most people would stop), the colours, sizes, 
weights, temperatures, resistances, and so forth. Still, the 
analysis may go yet further, and the colour of the leaf may 
be taken as merely the resultant of its quality, intensity, 
luminosity, and so forth, these being the elements. Or we 
may go still further and take modern ultimate conceptions 
reaching units incapable of sub-division. 

In the sense of Avenarius, then, elements are such ideas 
as "green," "blue," "cold," "warm," "soft," "hard," 
"sweet," "bitter," and their "character" is the particular 
kind of quality with which they appear, not merely their 
pleasantness or unpleasantness, but also such modes of 
presentation as "surprising," "expected," "novel," "in- 
different," "recognised," "known," "actual," "doubtful," 
categories which Avenarius first recognised as being psycho- 
logical. For instance, what I guess, believe, or know is an 
" element " ; the fact that I guess it, not believe it or know 
it, is the " character " in which it presents itself psycho- 
logically (not logically). 

Now there is a stage in mental activity in which this 
sub-division of psychical phenomena cannot be made, 
which is too early for it. All " elements " at their first 
appearance are merged with the floating background, the 
whole being vaguely tinged by " character." To follow 
my meaning, think of what takes place, when for the first 
time at a distance one sees something in the landscape, 
such as a shrub or a heap of wood, at the moment when 
one does not yet know what " it " is. 


At this moment " element " and " character " are abso- 
lutely indistinguishable (they are always inseparable as 
Petzoldt ingeniously pointed out), so improving the original 
statement of Avenarius. 

In a dense crowd I perceive, for instance, a face which 
attracts me across the swaying mass by its expression. I 
have no idea what the face is like, and should be quite 
unable to describe it or give an idea of it ; but it has 
appealed to me in the most disturbing manner, and I find 
myself asking with keen curiosity, " Where have 1 seen that 
face before ? " 

(^ man may see the head of a woman for a moment, and 
this may make a very strong impression on him, and yet he 
may be unable to say exactly what he has seen, or, for 
instance, be able to remember the colour of her hair. The 
retina must be exposed to the object sufficiently long, if 
only a fraction of a second, for a photographic impression 
to be made.\ 

If one looks at any object from a considerable distance 
one has at first only the vaguest impression of its outlines ; 
and as one comes nearer and sees the details more clearly, 
lively sensations, at first lost in the general mass, are 
received. Think, for instance, of the first general impres- 
sion of, say, the sphenoid bone disarticulated from a skull, 
or of many pictures seen a little too closely or a little too 
far away. I myself have a remembrance of having had 
strong impressions from sonatas of Beethoven before I 
knew anything of the musical notes. Avenarius and Petz- 
oldt have overlooked the fact that the coming into con- 
sciousness of the elements is accompanied by a kind of 
secretion of characterisation. 

Some of the simple experiments of physiological psy- 
chology illustrate the point to which I have been referring. 
If one stays in a dark room until the eye has adapted itself 
to the absence of light, and then for a second subjects 
oneself to a ray of coloured light, a sensation of illumina- 
tion will be received, although it is impossible to recognise 
the quality of the illumination ; something has been 


perceived, but what the something is cannot be apprehended 
unless the stimulation lasts a definite time. . 

yn the same way every scientific discovery, every tech- 
nical invention, every artistic creation passes through a 
preliminary phase of indistinctness. The process is similar 
to the series of impressions that would be got as a statue 
was gradually unwrapped from a series of swathings. The 
same kind of sequence occurs, although, perhaps, in a very 
brief space of time, when one is trying to recall a piece of 
music. Every thought is preceded by a kind of half- 
thought, a condition in which vague geometrical figures, 
shifting masks, a swaying and indistinct background hover 
in the mind. The beginning and the end of the whole 
process, which I may term " clarification," are what take 
place when a short-sighted person proceeds to look through 
properly adapted lenses^ 

Just as this process occurs in the life of the individual 
(and he, indeed, may die long before it is complete), so it 
occurs in history. \Definite scientific conceptions are pre- 
ceded by anticipations. The process of clarification is 
spread over many generations. There were ancient and 
modern vague anticipations of the theory of Darwin and 
Lamarck, anticipations which we are now apt to overvalue. 
Mayer and Helmholz had their predecessors, and Goethe 
and Leonardo da Vinci, perhaps two of the most many-sided 
intellects known to us, anticipated in a vague way many of 
the conclusions of modern science. The whole history of 
thought is a continuous " clarification," a more and more 
accurate description or realisation of details. The enormous 
number of stages between light and darkness, the minute 
gradations of detail that follow each other in the develop- 
ment of thought can be realised best if one follows histori- 
cally some complicated modern piece of knowledge, such 
as, for instance, the theory of elliptical functions^ 

The process of clarification may be reversed, and the act 
of forgetting is such a reversal. This may take a consider- 
able time, and is usually noticed only by accident at some 
point or other of its course. The process is similar to the 



gradual obliteration of well-made roads, for the maintenance 
of which no provision has been made. The faint anticipa- 
tions of a thought are very like the faint recollections of it, 
and the latter gradually become blurred as in the case of a 
neglected road over the boundaries of which animals stray, 
slowly obliterating it. In this connection a practical rule 
for memorising, discovered and applied by a friend of mine, 
is interesting. It generally happens that if one wants to 
learn, say, a piece of music, or a section from the history of 
philosophy, one has to go over parts of it again and again. 
The problem was, how long should the intervals be between 
these successive attempts to commit to memory ? The 
answer was that they should not be so long as to make it 
possible to take a fresh interest in the subject again, to be 
interested and curious about it. If the interval has produced 
that state of mind, then the process of clarification must begin 
from the beginning again. The rather popular physiological 
theory of Sigismund Exner as to the formation of "paths" 
in the nervous system may perhaps be taken as a physical 
parallel of the process of clarification. According to the 
theory, the ne'-ves, or rather the fibrils, make paths easy for 
the stimulations to travel along, if these stimulations last 
sufficiently long or are repeated sufficiently often. So also 
in the case of forgetting ; what happens is that these paths 
or processes of the nerve-cells atrophy from disuse. Ave- 
narius would have explained the above processes by his 
theory of the articulation of the fibres of the brain, but his 
physical doctrine was rather too crude and too simple for 
application to psycho-physics. None the less his conception 
of articulation or jointing is both convenient and appropriate 
in its application to the process of clarification, and I shall 
employ it in that connection. 

The process of clarification must be traced thoroughly in 
order to realise its importance, but for the moment, it is 
important to consider only the initial stage. The distinction 
of Avenarius between " element " and " character," which 
later on will become evident in a process of clarification, is 
not applicable to the very earliest moments of the process. 


It is necessary to coin a name for those minds to which the 
duahty of element and character becomes appreciable at no 
stage of the process. I propose for psychical data at this 
earliest stage of their existence the word Hen id (from the 
Greek h, because in them it is impossible to distinguish 
perception and sensation as two analytically separable factors, 
and because, therefore, there is no trace of duality in them). 

Naturally the "henid" is an abstract conception and may 
not occur in the absolute form. How often psychical data 
in human beings actually stand at this absolute extreme of 
undifferentiation is uncertain and unimportant ; but the 
theory does not need to concern itself with the possibility 
of such an extreme. A common example from what has 
happened to all of us may serve to illustrate what a henid 
is. I may have a definite wish to say something particular, 
and then something distracts me, and the '* it " I wanted to 
say or thmk has gone. Later on, by some process of asso- 
ciation, the " it " IS quite suddenly reproduced, and I know 
at once that it was what was on my tongue, but, so to speak, 
in a more perfect stage of development. 

I fear lest some one may expect me to describe exactly 
what I mean by " henid." The wish can come only from a 
misconception. The very idea of a henid forbids its de- 
scription ; it is merely a something. Later on identification 
will come with the complete articulation of the contents of 
the henid ; but the henid is not the whole of this detailed 
content, but is distinguished from it by a lower grade of 
consciousness, by an absence of, so to speak, relief, by a 
blending of the die and the impression, by the absence of 
a central point in the field of vision. 

And so one cannot describe particular henids ; one can 
only be conscious of their existence. 

None the less henids are things as vital as elements and 
characters. Each henid is an individual and can be dis- 
tinguished from other henids. Later on I shall show that 
probably the mental data of early childhood (certainly of 
the first fourteen months) are all henids, although perhaps 
not in the absolute sense. Throughout childhood these 


data do not reach far from the henid stage ; in adults there 
is always a certain process of development going on. 
Probably the perceptions of some plants and animals are 
henids. \[n the case of mankind the development from the 
henid to the completely differentiated perception and idea 
is always possible, although such an ideal condition may 
seldom be attained) ^Whilst expression in words is im- 
possible in the case of the absolute henid, as words imply 
articulated thoughts, there are also in the highest stages of 
the intellect possible to man some things still unclarified 
and, therefore, unspeakable^ 

The theory of henids will help in the old quarrel between 
the spheres of perception and sensation, and will replace by 
a developmental conception the ideas of element and 
charater which Avenarius and Petzoldt deduced from the 
process of clarification. It is only when the elements 
become distinct that they can be distinguished from the 
characters. Man is disposed to humours and sentimentali- 
ties only so long as the contours of his ideas are vague ; 
when he sees things in the light instead of the dark his 
process of thinking will become different. 

Now what is the relation between the investigation I have 
been making and the psychology of the sexes ? What is 
the distinction between the male and the female (and to 
reach this has been the object of my digression) in the 
process of clarification ? 

Here is my answer : 

The male has the same psychical data as the female, but 
in a more articulated form ; where she thinks more or less 
in henids, he thinks in more or less clear and detailed pre- 
sentations in which the elements are distinct from the tones of 
feeling, s^ith the woman, thinking and feeling are identical, 
for man they are in opposition. The woman has many of 
her mental experiences as henids, whilst in man these have 
passed through a process of clarification. Woman is senti- 
mental, and knows emotion but not mental excitement^ 

The greater articulation of the mental data in man is 
reflected in the more marked character of his body and 


face, as compared with the roundness and vagueness of the 
woman. In the same connection it is to be remembered 
that, notwithstanding the popular behef, the senses of the 
male are much more acute than those of the woman. The 
only exception is the sense of touch, an exception of great 
interest to which I shall refer later. It has been established, 
moreover, that the sensibility to pain is much more acute in 
man, and we have now learned to distinguish between that 
and the tactile sensations. 

A weaker sensibility is likely to retard the passage of 
mental data through the process of clarification, although 
we cannot quite take it for granted that it must be so. 
Perhaps a more trustworthy proof of the less degree of 
articulation in the mental data of the woman may be drawn 
from consideration of the greater decision in the judgments 
made by men, although indeed it may be the case that this 
distinction rests on a deeper basis. It is certainly the case 
that whilst we are still near the henid stage we know much 
more certainly what a thing is not than what it is. What 
Mach has called instinctive experience depends on henids. 
While we are near the henid stage we think round about a 
subject, correct ourselves at each new attempt, and say that 
that was not yet the right word. Naturally that condition 
implies uncertainty and indecision in judgment. Judgment 
comes towards the end of the process of clarification ; the 
act of judgment is in itself a departure from the henid stage. 
/The most decisive proof for the correctness of the view 
that attributes henids to woman and differentiated thoughts 
to man, and that sees in this a fundamental sexual distinction, 
lies in the fact that wherever a new judgment is to be made, 
(not merely something already settled to be put into pro- 
verbial form) it is always the case that the female expects 
from man the clarification of her data, the interpretation of 
her henids. It is almost a tertiary sexual character of the 
male, and certainly it acts on the female as such, that she 
expects from him the interpretation and illumination of her 
thoughts. It is from this reason that so many girls say that 
they could only marry, or, at least, only love a man who was 


cleverer than themselves ; that they would be repelled by a 
man who said that all they thought was right, and did not 
know better than they did. In short, the woman makes it a 
criterion of manliness that the man should be superior to 
herself mentally, that she should be influenced and domi- 
nated by the man ; and this in itself is enough to ridicule all 
ideas of sexual equalityX 

SThe male lives consciously, the female lives unconsciously. 
This is certainly the necessary conclusion for the extreme 
cases. The woman receives her consciousness from the 
man ; the function to bring into consciousness what was 
outside it is a sexual function of the typical man with 
regard to the typical woman, and is a necessary part of his 
ideal completeness^ 

And now we are brought up against the problem of 
talent ; the whole modern woman question appears to be 
resolving itself into a dispute as to whether men or women 
are more highly gifted. As the question is generally pro- 
pounded there is no attempt to distinguish between the 
pure types of sex ; the conclusions with regard to these that 
I have been able to set forth have an important bearing on 
the answer to the question. 



There has been so much written about the nature of genius 
that, to avoid misunderstanding, it will be better to make a 
few general remarks before going into the subject. 

And the first thing to do is to settle the question of 
talent. Genius and talent are nearly always connected in 
the popular idea, as if the first were a higher, or the highest, 
grade of the latter, and as if a man of very high and varied 
talents might be a sort of intermediate between the two. 
This view is entirely erroneous. Even if there were 
different degrees or grades of genius, they would have 
absolutely nothing to do with so-called " talent." A 
talent, for instance the mathematical talent, may be 
possessed by some one in a very high degree from birth ; 
and he will be able to master the most difficult problems of 
that science with ease ; but for this he will require no 
genius, which is the same as originality, individuality, and 
a condition of general productiveness. 

On the other hand, there are men of great genius who 
have shown no special talent in any marked degree ; for 
instance, men like Novalis or Jean Paul. Genius is dis- 
tinctly not the superlative of talent ; there is a world-wide 
difference between the two ; they are of absolutely unlike 
nature ; they can neither be measured by one another or 
compared to each other. 

vfalent is hereditary ; it may be the common possession 
of a whole family {e.g., the Bach family) ; genius is not 
transmitted ; it is never diffused, but is strictly individual/ 

Many ill-balanced people, and in particular women, 


regard genius and talent as identical. Women, indeed, 
have not the faculty of appreciating genius, although this 
is not the common view. Any extravagance that distin- 
guishes a man from other men appeals equally to their 
sexual ambition ; they confuse the dramatist with the actor, 
and make no distinction between the virtuoso and the artist. 
For them the talented man is the man of genius, and 
Nietzsche is the type of what they consider genius. What 
has been called the French type of thought, which so 
strongly appeals to them, has nothing to do with the \ 
highest possibilities of the mind. {Great men take them- 
selves and the world too seriously to become what is called 
merely intellectual. Men who are merely intellectual are 
insincere ; they are people who have never really been 
deeply engrossed by things and who do not feel an over- 
powering desire for production. All that they care about is 
that their work should glitter and sparkle like a well-cut 
stone, not that it should illuminate anything. They are 
more occupied with what will be said of what they think { 
than by the thoughts themselvesN There are men who are 
willing to marry a woman they do not care about merely 
because she is admired by other men. Such a relation 
exists between many men and their thoughts. I cannot 
help thinking of one particular living author, a blaring,' 
outrageous person, who fancies that he is roaring when he 
is only snarling. Unfortunately, Nietzsche (however 
superior he is to the man I have in mind) seems to have 
devoted himself chiefly to what he thought would shock 
the public. He is at his best when he is most unmindful 
of effect. His was the vanity of the mirror, saying to what 
it reflects, " See how faithfully I show you your image." 
In youth when a man is not yet certain of himself he may 
try to secure his own position by jostling others. ^Great 
men, hcwevef, ;ire painfully ni^j'-^'T-si'/c only from f^xes^^y.) 
They are not like a girl who is most pleased about a new 
dress because she knows that it will annoy her frier^ds. 

Genius ! genius ! how much mental disturbance and dis- 
comfort, hatred and envy, jealousy and pettiness, has it not 


aroused in the majority of men, and how much counterfeit 
and tinsel has the desire for it not occasioned ? 

I turn gladly from the imitations of genius to the thing 
itself and its true embodiment. But where can I begin ? 
All the qualities that go to make genius are in so intimate 
connection that to begin with any one of them seems to 
lead to premature conclusions. 

All discussions on the nature of genius are either biologi- 
cal-clinical, and serve only to show the absurd presumption 
of present knowledge of this kind in its hope to solve a 
problem so difficult ; or they descend from the heights of a 
metaphysical system for the sole purpose of including 
genius in their purview. If the road that I am about to 
take does not lead to every goal at once, it is only because 
that is the nature of roads. 

Consider how much deeper a great poet can reach into 
the nature of man than an average person. Think of the 
extraordinary number of characters depicted by Shakespeare 
or Euripides, or the marvellous assortment of human beings 
that fill the pages of Zola. After the Penthesilea, Heinrich 
von Kleist created Kätchen von Heilbronn, and Michael 
Angelo embodied from his imagination the Delphic Sibyls 
and the Leda. CThere have been few men so little devoted 
to art as Kant and Schelling, and yet these have written 
most profoundly and truly about ity In order to depict a 
man one must understand him, and to understand him one 
must be like him ; in order to portray his psychological 
activities one must be able to reproduce them in oneself. 
To understand a man one must have his nature in oneself. 
One must be like the mind one tries to grasp. It takes a 
thief to know a thief, and only an innocent man can under- 
stand another innocent man. The poseur only understands 
other poseurs, and sees nothing but pose in the actions of 
others ; whilst the simple-minded fails to understand the 
most flagrant pose. ^To understand a man is really to be 
that man) 

It would seem to follow that a man can best understand 
himself — a conclusion plainly absurd. No one can under- 


stand himself, for to do that he would have to get outside 
himself ; the subject of the knowing and willing activity 
would have to become its own object. To grasp the 
universe it would be necessary to get a standpoint outside 
the universe, and the possibility of such a standpoint is 
incompatible with the idea of a universe. He who could 
understand himself could understand the world. I do not 
make the statement merely as an explanation : it contains 
an important truth, to the significance of which I shall 
recur. For the present I am content to assert that no one 
can understand his deepest, most intimate nature. This 
happens in actual practice ; when one wishes to understand 
in a general way, it is always from other persons, never 
from oneself, that one gets one's materials. The other 
person chosen must be similar in some respect, however 
different as a whole ; and, making use of this similarity, he 
can recognise, represent, comprehend. So far as one under- 
stands a man, one is that man. 

^he man of genius takes his place in the above argument 
as he who understands incomparably more other beings 
than the average man. Goethe is said to have said of him- 
self that there was no vice or crime of which he could not 
trace the tendency in himself, and that at some period of 
his life he could not have understood fully. The genius, 
therefore, is a more complicated, more richly endowed, 
more varied man ; and a man is the closer to being a 
genius the more men Jie has in hi'^ personalitv, and the 
more really and strongly he has these others within himy 
If comprehension of those about him only flickers in him 
like a poor candle, then he is unable, like the great poet, to 
kindle a mighty flame in his heroes, to give distinction and 
character to his creations. The ideal of an artistic genius 
is to live in all men, to lose himself in all men, to reveal 
himself in multitudes ; and so also the aim of the 
philosopher is to discover all others in himself, to fuse 
them into a unit which is his own unit. 

This protean character of genius is no more simultaneous 
than the bi-sexuality of which I have spoken. Even the 


greatest genius cannot understand the nature of all men at 
the same time, on one and the same day. The compre- 
hensive and manifold rudiments which a man possesses in 
his mind can develop only slowly and by degrees with the 
gradual unfolding of his whole life. It appears almost as if 
there were a definite periodicity in his development. These 
periods, v^'hen they recur, however, are not exactly alike ; 
they are not mere repetitions, but are intensifications of 
their predecessors, on a higher plane. No two moments in 
the life of an individual are exactly alike ; there is between 
the later and the earlier periods only the similarity of 
the higher and lower parts of a spiral ascent. Thus 
it has frequently happened that famous men have con- 
ceived a piece of work in their early youth, laid it aside 
during manhood, and resumed and completed it in old age. 
Periods exist in every man, but in different degrees and 
with varying "amplitude." Just as the genius is the man 
who contains in himself the greatest number of others in 
the most active way, so the amplitude of a man's periods 
will be the greater the wider his mental relations may be. 
Qllustrious men have often been told, by their teachers, in 
their youth " that they were always in one extreme or 
another." As if they could be anything else ! These 
transitions in the case of unusual men often assume the 
character of a crisis. Goethe once spoke of the " recurrence 
of puberty" in an artist. The idea is obviously to be 
associated with the matter under discussion/^ 

It results from their periodicity that, in men of genius, 
sterile years precede productive years, these again to be 
followed by sterility, the barren periods being marked by 
psychological self-depreciation, by the feeling that they 
are less than other men ; times in which the remembrance 
of the creative periods is a torment, and when they envy 
those who go about undisturbed by such penalties. Just as 
his moments of ecstasy are more poignant, so are the 
periods of depression of a man of genius more intense than 
those of other men. Every great man has such periods, of 
longer or shorter duration, times in which he loses self- 


confidence, in which he thinks of suicide ; times in which, 
indeed, he may be sowing the seeds of a future harvest, but 
which are devoid of the stimulus to production ; times 
which call forth the blind criticisms " How such a genius 
is degenerating!" "How he has played himself out!" 
" How he repeats himself ! " and so forth. 

It is just the same with other characteristics of the man 
of genius. Not only the material, but also the spirit, of his 
work is subject to periodic change. At one time he is in- 
clined to a philosophical and scientific view ; at another 
time the artistic influence is strongest ; at one time his 
intervals are altogether in the direction of history and the 
growth of civilisation ; later on it is " nature " (compare 
Nietzsche's "Studies in Infinity" with his "Zarathustra ") ; 
at another time he is a mystic, at yet another simplicity 
itself ! (Björnson and Maurice Maeterlinck are good modern 
examples.) In fact, the " amplitude " of the periods of famous 
men is so great, the different revelations of their nature so 
various, so many different individuals appear in them, that 
the periodicity of their mental life may be taken almost as 
diagnostic. I must make a remark sufiiciently obvious 
from all this, as to the existence of almost incredibly great 
changes in the personal appearance of men of genius from 
time to time. Comparison of the portraits at different 
times of Goethe, Beethoven, Kant, or Schopenhauer are 
enough to establish this. The number of different aspects 
that the face of a man has assumed may be taken almost as 
a physiognomical measure of his talent.* 

People with an unchanging expression are low in the 
intellectual scale. Physiognomists, therefore, must not be 
surprised that men of genius, in whose faces a new side of 
their minds is continually being revealed, are difficult to 
classify, and that their individualities leave little permanent 
mark on their features. 

* I cannot help using the word " talent " from time to time, 
when I really mean genius ; but I wish it to be remembered that I 
am convinced of the existence of a fundamental distinction between 
" talent," or " giftedness," and " genius." 


It is possible that my introductory description of genius 
will be repudiated indignantly, because it would imply that 
a Shakespeare has the vulgarity of his Falstaff, the rascality 
of his lago, the boorishness of his Caliban, and because it 
identifies great men with all the low and contemptible 
things that they have described. As a matter of fact, men 
of genius do conform to my description, and as their 
biographies show, are liable to the strangest passions and 
the most repulsive instincts. And yet the objection is 
invalid, as the fuller exposition of the thesis will reveal. 
Only the most superficial survey of the argument could 
support it, whilst the exactly opposite conclusion is a much 
more likely inference. Zola, who has so faithfully de- 
scribed the impulse to commit murder, did not himself 
commit a murder, because there were so many other 
characters in him. The actual murderer is in the grasp of 
his own disposition : the author describing the murder is 
swayed by a whole kingdom of impulses. Zola would 
know the desire for murder much better than the actual 
murderer would know it, he would recognise it in himself, 
if it really came to the surface in him, and he would be 
prepared for it. In such ways the criminal instincts in great 
men are intellectualised and turned to artistic purposes as 
in the case of Zola, or to philosophic purposes as with 
Kant, but not to actual crime. 

The presence of a multitude of possibilities in great men 
has important consequences connected with the theory of 
henids that I elaborated in the last chapter. A man under- 
stands what he already has within himself much more 
quickly than what is foreign to him (were it otherwise there 
would be no intercourse possible : as it is we do not realise 
how often we fail to understand one another). To the 
genius, who understands so much more than the average 
man, much more will be apparent. 

The schemer will readily recognise his fellow ; an im- 
passioned player easily reads the same power in another 
person ; whilst those with no special powers will observe 
nothing. Art discerns itself best, as Wagner said. In the 


case of complex personalities the matter stands thus : one 
of these can understand other men better than they can 
understand themselves, because within himself he has nol 
only the character he is grasping, but also its opposite. 
Duality is necessary for observation and comprehension ;/ii 
we -inquire from psychology what is the most necessary 
condition for becoming conscious of a thing, for grasping 
it, we shall find the answer in " contrast." If everything 
were a uniform grey we should have />^c )de^ of colour ; 
absolute unison of sound would soon j^ /Ue^p in all 
mankind ; duality, the power which can differentiate, is the 
origin of the alert consciousness. Thus it happens that no 
one can understand himself were he to think of nothing 
else all his life, but he can understand another to whom he 
is partly alike, and from whom he is also partly quite 
different. Such a distribution of qualities is the condition 
most favourable for understanding. In short, to under- 
stand a man means to have equal parts of himself and of his 
opposite in one. 

^hat things must be present in pairs of contrasts if we 
are to be conscious of one member of the pair is shown by 
the facts of colour-vision. Colour-blindness always extends 
to the complementary colours. Those who are red blind 
are also green blind ; those who are blind to blue have no 
consciousness of yellow. This law holds good for all 
mental phenomena ; it is a fundamental condition of con- 
sciousness. The most high-spirited people understand and 
experience depression much more than those who are of 
level disposition. Any one with so keen a sense of delicacy 
and subtilty as Shakespeare must also be capable of ex- 
treme grossness^ 

The more types and their contrasts a man unites in his 
own mind the less will escape him, since observation follows 
comprehension, and the more he will see and understand 
what other men feel, think, and wish. There has never 
been a genius who was not a great discerner of men. The 
great man sees through the simpler man often at a glance, 
and would be able to characterise him completely. 


Most men have this, that, or the other faculty or sense 
disproportionately developed. One man knows all the birds 
and tells their different voices most accurately. Another 
has a love for plants and is devoted to botany from his 
childhood. One man pores lovingly into the many layered 
rocks of the earth, and has only the vaguest appreciation of 
the skies ; to aaiother the attraction of cold, star-sown 
space is supreme. One man is repelled by the mountains 
and seeks the restless sea ; another, like Nietzsche, gets no 
help from the tossing waters and hungers for the peace of 
the hills. Every man, however simple he may be, has some 
side of nature with which he is in special sympathy and for 
which his faculties are specially alert. And so the ideal 
genius, who has all men within him, has also all their 
preferences and all their dislikes. There is in him not only 
the universality of men, but of all nature. He is the man to 
whom all things tell their secrets, to whom most happens, 
and whom least escapes. He understands most things, and 
those most deeply, because he has the greatest number of 
things to contrast and compare them with. The genius is 
he who is conscious of most, and of that most acutely. And 
so without doubt his sensations must be most acute ; but 
this must not be understood as implying, say, in the artist 
the keenest power of vision, in the composer the most 
acute hearing ; the measure of genius is not to be taken 
from the acuteness of the sense organ but from that of the 
perceiving brain. 

The consciousness of the genius is, then, the furthest 
removed from the henid stage. It has the greatest, most 
limpid clearness and distinctness. In this way genius 
declares itself to be a kind of higher masculinity, and thus 
the female cannot be possessed of genius. The conclusion 
of this chapter and the last is simply that the life of the 
male is a more highly conscious life than that of the female, 
and genius is identical with the highest and widest con- 
sciousness. This extremely comprehensive consciousness 
of the highest types of mankind is due to the enormous 
number of contrasting elements in their natures. 


Universality is the distinguishing mark of genius. There 
is no such thing as a special genius, a genius for mathe- 
matics, or for music, or even for chess, but only a universal 
genius. The genius is a man who knows everything with- 
out having learned it. 

It stands to reason that this infinite knowledge does not 
include theories and systems which have b^pn formulated 
by science from facts, neither the history of the Spanish 
war of succession nor experiments in dia-magnetism. 

The artist does not acquire his knowledge of the colours 
reflected on water by cloudy or sunny skies, by a course of 
optics, any more than it requires a deep study of character- 
ology to judge other men. But the more gifted a man is, 
the more he has studied on his own account, and the more 
subjects he has made his own. 

The theory of special genius, according to which for 
instance, it is supposed that a musical " genius " should be 
a fool at other subjects, confuses genius with talent. A 
musician, if truly great, is just as well able to be universal 
in his knowledge as a philosopher or a poet. Such an 
one was Beethoven. On the other hand, a musician may 
be as limited in the sphere of his activity as any average 
man of science. Such an one was Johann Strauss, who, 
in spite of his beautiful melodies, cannot be regarded 
as a genius if only because of the absence of construc- 
tive faculty in him. To come back to the main point ; 
there are many kinds of talent, but only one kind of genius, 
and that is able to choose any kind of talent and master it. 
There is something in genius common to all those who 
possess it ; however much difference there may seem to be 
between the great philosopher, painter, musician, poet, or 
religious teacher. The particular talent through the medium 
of which the spirit of a man develops is of less importance 
than has generally been thought. The limits of the 
different arts can easily be passed, and much besides native 
inborn gifts have to be taken into account. The history of 
one art should be studied along with the history of other 
arts, and in that way many obscure events might be ex- 


plained. It is outside my present purpose, however, to go 
into the question of what determines a genius to become, 
say^ a mystic, or, say, a great delineator. 

From genius itself, the common quality of all the different 
manifestations of genius, woman is debarred. I will discuss 
later as to whether such things are possible as pure scientific 
or technical genius as well as artistic and philosophical 
genius. There is good reason for a greater exactness in the 
use of the word. But that may come, and however clearly 
we may yet be able to describe it woman will have to be 
excluded from it. I am glad that the course of my inquiry 
has been such as to make it impossible for me to be charged 
with having framed such a definition of genius as necessarily 
to exclude woman from it. 

I may now sura up the conclusions of this chapter. 
Whilst woman has no consciousness of genius, except as 
manifested in one particular person, who imposes his 
personality on her, man has a deep capacity for realising it, 
a capacity which Carlyle, in his still little understood book I 
on " Hero-Worship," has described so fully and perma- 
nently. In " Hero- Worship," moreover, the idea is definitely I 
insisted on that genius is linked with manhood, that it 
represents an ideal masculinity in the highest form. Woman 
has no direct consciousness of it ; she borrows a kind of , 
imperfect consciousness from man. Woman, in short, has ^ x / 
an unconscious life, man a conscious life, and the genius j 
the most conscious life. 



The following observation bears on my henid theory : 

I made a note, half mechanically, of a page in a botanical 
work from which later on I was going to make an extract. 
Something was in my mind in henid form. What I thought, 
how I thought it, what was then knocking at the door of my 
consciousness, I could not remember a minute afterwards, 
in spite of the hardest effort. I take this case as a typical 
example of the henid. 

The more deeply impressed, the more detailed a complex 
perception may he the more easily does it reproduce itself. 
Clearness of the consciousness is the preliminary condition 
for remembering, and the memory of the mental stimulation 
is proportional to the intensity of the consciousness. " I 
shall not forget that " ; " I shall remember that all my life " ; 
"That will never escape my memory again." Such phrases 
men use when things have made a deep impression on 
them, of moments in which they have gained wisdom or 
have become richer by an important experience. As the 
power of being reproduced is directly proportionate to the 
organisation of a mental impression, it is clear that there 
can be no recollection of an absolute henid. 

As the mental endowment of a man varies with the 
organisation of his accumulated experiences, the better 
endowed he is, the more readily will he be able to remember 
his whole past, everything that he has ever thought or heard, 
seen or done, perceived or felt, the more completely in fact 
will he be able to reproduce his whole life. Universal 
remembrance of all its experiences, therefore, is the surest, 


most general, and most easily proved mark of a genius. If 
a common theory, especially popular with the philosophers 
of the coffee-house, be true, that productive men (because 
they are alway scovering new ground) have no memory, it 
is often because they are productive only from being on 
new ground. 

The great extent and acuteness of the memory of men of 
genius, which I propose to lay down dogmatically as a 
necessary inference from my theory, without attempting to 
prove it further, is not incompatible with their rapid loss of 
the facts impressed on them in school, the tables of Greek 
verbs, and so forth. Their memory is of what they have 
experienced, not of what they have learned. Of all that 
was acquired for examination purposes only so much will 
be retained as was in harmony with the natural talent of 
the pupil. Thus a house-painter may have a better memory 
for colours than a great philosopher ; the most narrow 
philologist may remember Greek aorists that he has learned 
by heart better than his teacher, who may none the less be 
a great poet. The uselessness of the experimental school of 
psychology (notwithstanding their marvellous arsenal of 
instruments of experimental precision) is shown by their 
expectation of getting results as to memory from tests with 
letters, unconnected words, long rows of figures. ^ These 
experiments have so little bearing on the true memory of 
man, on the memory by which he recalls the experiences of 
his life, that one wonders if such psychologists have realised 
that such a thing as the mind exists,' The customary 
experiments place the most different subjects under the 
same conditions, pay no attention to the individuality of 
these subjects, and treat them merely as good or bad 
registering apparatus. There is a parable in the fact that 
the two German words ''bemerken" (take notice of) 
and " merken " (remember) come from the same root. 
Only what is harmonious with some inborn quality will be 
retained. When a man remembers a thing, it is because he 
was capable of taking some interest in the thing ; when he 
forgets, it is because he was uninterested. The religious 


man will surely and exactly remember texts, the poet verses, 
and the mathematician equations. 

This brings us in another fashion to the subject of the 
last chapter, and to another reason for the great memories 
of genius. The more significant a man is, the more different 
personalities he unites in himself, the more interests that 
are contained in him, the more wide his memory must be. 
All men have practically the same opportunities of per- 
ception, but the vast majority of men apprehend only an 
infinitesimal part of what they have perceived. The ideal 
genius is one in whom perception and apprehension are 
identical in their field. Of course no such being actually 
exists. On the other hand, there is no man who has ap- 
prehended nothing that he has perceived. In this way we 
may take it that all degrees of genius (not talent) exist ; no 
male is quite without a trace of genius. Complete genius 
is an ideal ; no man is absolutely without the quality, and 
no man possesses it completely. Apprehension or absorp- 
tion, and memory or retention, vary together in their extent 
and their permanence. There is an uninterrupted gradation 
from the man whose mentality is unconnected from moment 
to moment, and to whom no incidents can signify anything 
because there is within him nothing to compare them with 
(such an extreme, of course, does not exist) to the fully 
developed minds for which everything is unforgettable, 
because of the firm impressions made and the sureness with 
which they are absorbed. The extreme of genius also does 
not exist, because even the greatest genius is not wholly a 
genius at every moment of his life. 

What is at once a deduction from the necessary connec- 
tion between memory and genius, and a proof of the 
actuality of the connection, lies in the extraordinary 
memory for minute details shown by the man of genius. 
Because of the universality of his mind, everything has 
only one interpretation for him, an interpretation often 
unsuspected at the time ; and so things cling obstinately 
in his memory and remain there inextinguishably, although 
he may have taken not the smallest trouble to take note of 

them.' f'AFidj so XDn&; may almost take as anothjern'mafk Q^aä^fti 
genius that; thc: phrase,. "this is no {ongQvtnifJu-b^^jin^i 
meaning for him. i..:Xhefe is .nothing itha^üi^I no.rk(ng€C(|:r/Ufö 
for him, probably just because he hasj^a,cte2^6riici83itfe.ali»^ 
other men of the changes that come witbitimet* c v/J sdi boß 

The following appears to^he;t)neiofi(th^,[jbestifmiaii[§ jferfl 
the objective examination of the endowment i3f;:a^-naa5i)ä) Ik 
after a long separation from him we resume the new initeBf) 
course with the circumstances of the last, then we shall 
find that the highly endowed man has forgotten nothing, 
that he vividly and completely takes up the subject from 
where it was left off with the fullest recollection of the 
details. How much ordinary men forget of their lives 
any one can prove to his astonishment and horror. It may 
happen that we have been for hours importantly engaged 
with a man a few weeks before, and we may find that he 
has forgotten all about it. It is true that if one recalls all 
the circumstances to his mind, he begins to remember, and, 
finally, with sufficient help, may remember almost com- 
pletely. Such experience has made me think that there 
may be an empirical proof of the hypothesis that no abso- 
lute forgetting ever occurs ; that if the right method with 
the individual be chosen recollection may always be 

It follows also that from one's own experience, from 
what one has thought or said, heard or read, felt or done, 
one can give the smallest possible to another, that the other 
does not already know. Consideration of the amount that 
a man can take in from another would seem to serve as a 
sort of objective measure of his genius, a measure that 
does not have to wait for an estimation of his actual 
creative efforts. I am not going to discuss the extent to 
which this theory opposes current views on education, but 
I recommend parents and teachers to pay attention to it. 
The extent to which a man can detect differences and 
resemblances must depend on his memories. This faculty 
'yill be best developed in those whose past permeates their 
present, all the moments of the life of whom are amalga- 


mated. Such persons will have the greatest opportunities 
of detecting resemblances and so finding the material for 
comparisons. They will always seize hold of from the past 
what has the greatest resemblance to the present experience, 
and the two experiences will be combined in such a way 
that no similarities or differences will be concealed. And 
so they are able to maintain the past against the influence 
of the present. It is not without reason that from time 
immemorial the special merit of poetry has been considered 
to be its richness in beautiful comparisons and pictures, or 
that we turn to again and again, or await our favourite 
images with impatience when we read Homer or Shake- 
speare or Kloppstock. <To-day when, for the first time for 
a century and a half, Germany is without great poets or 
painters, and when none the less it is impossible to find 
any one who is not an " author," the power of clear and 
beautiful comparison seems to have gone.. A period the 
nature of which can best be described in vague and dubious 
words, the philosophy of which has become in more than 
one sense the philosophy ot the unconscious can contain 
nothing great. ■(Consciousness is the mark of greatness,) and 
befoie it the unconscious is dispersed as the sun disperses 
a mist. If only consciousness were to come to this age, 
how quickly voices that are now famous would become 
silent. It is only in full consciousness, in which the 
experience of the present assumes greater intensity by its 
union with all the experiences of the past, that imagination, 
the necessary quality tor all philosophical as for all artistic 
effort, can find a place. It is untrue, therefore, that women 
have more imagination than men. The experiences on 
account of which men have assigned higher powers of 
imagination to women come entirely from the imaginative 
sexual life of women. The only inferences that can be 
drawn from this do not belong to the present section of my 

\rhe absence of women from the history of music must 
be referred to deeper causes ; but it also supports my con- 
tention that women are devoid of imagination. To produce 


music requires a great deal more imagination than the 
malest woman possesses, and much more than is required 
for other kinds of artistic or for scientific effort. ^There 
is nothing in nature, nothing in the sphere of the senses, 
corresponding directly with sound pictures. Music has no 
relation to the world of experience ; there is no " music." 
no chords or melodies in the natural world ; these have to 
be evolved from the imagination of the composer. Every 
other art has more definite relations to empirical art. Even 
architecture, which has been compared with music, has 
definite relations to matter, although, like music, it has no 
anticipations in the senses. Architecture, too, is an entirely 
masculine occupation. The very idea of a female architect 
excites compassion.*) 

The so-called stupefying effect of music on the creative 
or practical musician (especially instrumental music) 
depends on the fact that even the sense of smell is a 
better guide to man in the world of experience than the 
contents of a musical work. And it is just this complete 
absence of all relation to the world of sight, taste, and smell, 
that makes music specially unfitted to express the female 
nature. It also explains why this peculiarity of his art 
demands the highest grade of imagination from a musician, 
and why those to whom musical compositions " come " 
seem stranger to their fellow men than painters or sculptors. 
The so-called " imagination " of women must be very 
different from that of men, since there is no woman with 
even the same position in the history of music that Angelica 
Kaufmann had in art. 

Where anything obviously depends on strong moulding 
women have not the smallest leaning towards its production, 
neither in philosophy nor in music, in the plastic arts nor in 
architecture. Where, however, a weak and vague senti- 
mentality can be expressed with little effort, as in painting 
or verse-making, or in pseudo-mysticism and theosophy, 
women have sought and found a suitable field for their 
efforts. Their lack of productiveness in the former sphere 
is in harmony with the vagueness of the psychical life of 


women. Music is the nearest possible approach to the 
organisation of a sensation. Nothing is more definite, 
characteristic, and impressive than a melody, nothing that 
will more strongly resist obliteration. One remembers 
much longer what is sung than what is spoken, and the arias 
belter than the recitatives. 

Let us note specially here that the usual phrases of the 
defenders of women do not apply to the case of women. 
Music is not one of the arts to which women have had 
access only so recently that it is too soon to expect fruits ; 
from the remotest antiquity women have sung and played. 
And yet . . . 

It is to be remembered that even in the case of drawing 
and painting women have now had opportunities for at 
least two centuries. Every one knows how many girls learn 
to draw and sketch, and it cannot be said that there has not 
yet been time for results were results possible. As there are 
so few female painters with the smallest importance in the 
history of art, it must be that there is something in the 
nature of things against it. As a matter of fact, the painting 
and etching of women is no more than a sort of elegant, 
luxurious handiwork. The sensuous, physical element of 
colour is more suitable for them than the intellectual work 
of formal line-drawing, and hence it is, that whereas women 
have acquired some small distinction in painting they have 
gained none in drawing. ^The power of giving form to 
chaos is with those in whom the most universal memory 
has made the widest comprehension possible ; it is a quality 
of the masculine genius./ 

I regret that I must so continually use the word genius, as 
if that should apply only to a caste as well defined from those 
below as income-tax payers are from the untaxed. The word 
genius was very probably invented by a man who had small 
claims on it himself ; greater men would have understood 
better what to be a genius really was, and probably they 
would have come to see that the word could be applied to 
most people. Goethe said that perhaps only a genius is able 
to understand a genius. 


VThere are probably very few people who have not at some 
time of their lives had some quality of genius. If they have 
not had such, it is probable that they have also been without 
great sorrow or great pain^ They would have needed only 
to live sufficiently intently for a time for some quality to 
reveal itself. The poems of first love are a case in point, 
and certainly such love is a sufficient stimulus. 

It must not be forgotten that quite ordinary men in 
moments of excitement, in anger at some underhanded deed, 
have found words with which they never would have been 
credited. sThe greater part of what is called expression in 
art as in language depends (if the reader will remember what 
I have said about the process of " clarification ") on the fact 
that some individual more richly endowed clarifies, organises, 
and exhibits some idea almost instantaneouly, an idea which 
to a less endowed person was still in the henid form. The 
course of clarification is much shortened in the mind of the 
second person.) 

If it really were the case, as popular opinion has tried to 
establish, that the genius were separated from ordinary men 
by a thick wall through which no sound could penetrate, 
then all understanding of the efforts of genius would be 
denied to ordinary men, and their works would fail to make 
any impression on them. All hopes of progress depend on 
this being untrue. And it is untrue. <^he difference be- 
tween men of genius and the others is quantitative not 
qualitative, of degree not of kind. 

There is, moreover, very little sense in preventing young 
people from giving expression to their ideas on the pretext 
that they have less experience than have older persons. 
There are many who may live a thousand years without 
encountering experience of any value. It could only be in 
a society of persons equally gifted that such an idea could 
have any meaning./ 

Because the life of the genius is more intense even in his 
earliest years than that of other children, his memory can 
go further back. In extreme cases the memory may be 
cor iplete and vivid back to the third year of life, whereas 


in most recollection begins much later. I know some 
people whose earliest recollections date only from their 
eighth year, and there are instances of an even later begin- 
ning of the conscious life. I do not maintam that the date 
at which active memory begins can be taken as a measure of 
relative genius, that he who remembers from his second 
year is so much the more of a genius than he who can go 
back only to his fourth or fifth year. But in a general way, 
I believe the parallel to hold good. 

Even in the cases of the greatest men, some time, greater 
or shorter, elapsed between the date of their earliest recol- 
lection and the time from which onwards they remember 
everything, from the time, in fact, in which their genius was 
ripe. But in the case of most men there is forgetfulness of 
the greater part of their lives ; they are conscious only that 
they themselves and none other have lived their lives. Out 
of their whole lives there only remain certain moments, and 
scattered recollections, which serve as sign-posts. If they are 
asked about any particular thing they can only tell, for in- 
stance, because in such and such a month they were so old, 
or they wore such and such clothes, they lived at this place, 
or that their income was so much. 

If one has lived with them in former years, it is only after 
great trouble that the past can be brought to their mind. 
In such cases one is surely justified in saying that such a 
person is ungifted, or at least in not considering him con- 
spicuously able. 

The request for an autobiography would put most men 
into a most painful position ; they could scarcely tell if they 
were asked what they had done the day before. Memory 
with most people is quite spasmodic and purely associative. 
In the case of the man of genius every impression that he has 
received endures ; he is always under the influence of 
impressions ; and so nearly all men of genius tend to suffer 
from fixed ideas. The psychical condition of men's minds 
may be compared with a set of bells close together, and so 
arranged that in the ordinary man a bell rings only when 
one beside it sounds, and the vibration lasts only a moment. 


In the genius, when a bell sounds it vibrates so strongly 
that it sets in action the whole series, and remains in action 
throughout life. The latter kind of movement often gives 
rise to extraordinary conditions and absurd impulses, that 
may last for weeks together and that form the basis of the 
supposed kinship of genius with insanity. 

For similar reasons gratitude is apparently the rarest 
human virtue. People are often very conscious of how much 
they have borrowed, but they neither can nor will try to 
remember the necessity in which they stood, nor the free- 
dom which that help brought them. Even if want of 
memory were really the cause of ingratitude, it would not 
be sufficient for a man to possess a marvellous memory to 
have a like spirit of gratitude. A special condition is also 
necessary, but its description cannot be undertaken here. 

From the connection between giftedness and memory, 
which is so often mistaken and denied because it is not 
sought where it is to be found, from the power of self recol- 
lection, a further fact is to be deduced. The poet who feels 
urged to write without premeditation, without reflection, 
without having willingly pressed the pedal ; the musician to 
whom the desire to compose has come, so that he must 
create whether he will or no, even if he feels more inclined 
to sleep or to rest ; tnese, in such moments, will simply 
reproduce thoughts they have carried in their heads all their 
lives. A composer wno can remember none of his songs or 
subjects by heart, or a poet who cannot recollect any of his 
poems — without having carefully learned them — such men 
are in no sense really great. 

Before we apply these remarks to the consideration of the 
mental differences of the sexes, we must make yet one 
more distinction between different kinds of memory. The 
individual moments in the life of a gifted man are not 
remembered as disconnected points, not as different 
particles of time, each one separated and defined from the 
following one, as the numerals one, two, and so on. 

The result of self-observation shows that sleep, the 
limitations of consciousness, the gaps in memory, even 


special experiences, appear to be in some mysterious way 
one great whole ; incidents do not follow each other like 
the tickings of a watch, but they pass along in a single 
unbroken stream. With ordinary men the moments which 
are united in a close continuity out of the original discrete 
multiplicity are very few, and the course of their lives 
resembles a little brook, whereas with the genius it is more 
like a mighty river into which all the little rivulets flow from 
afar ; that is to say, the universal comprehension of genius 
vibrates to no experience in which all the individual 
moments have not been gathered up and stored. 
^This peculiar contmuity by which a man first realises that 
he exists, that he is, and that he is in the world, is all 
comprehensive in the genius, limited to a few important 
moments in the mediocre, and altogether lacking in woman?) 
When a woman looks back over her life and lives again her 
experiences, there is presented no continuous, unbroken 
stream, but only a few scattered points. And what kind of 
points ? They are just those which accord with woman's 
natural instincts. Of what these interests exclusively consist 
the second chapter gave a preliminary idea ; and those who 
remember the ideas in question will not be astonished at the 
following facts : The female is concerned altogether with 
one class of recollections — those connected with the sexual 
impulse and reproduction. She thinks of her lovers and 
proposals, of her marriage day, of every child as if it were 
a doll ; of the flowers which she received at every ball, 
the number, size, and price of the bouquets ; of every 
serenade ; of every verse which (as she fondly imagines) was 
written for her ; of every phrase by which a lover has im- 
pressed her ; but above all — with an exactness which is as 
contemptible as it is disquieting to herself — of every 
compliment without exception that has ever been paid her. 

That is all that the real woman recalls of her life. But 
it is just those things which human beings never forget, and 
those they cannot remember that give the clue to knowledge 
of their life and character. It belongs to a later period of 
the book to go more thoroughly into the reason why the 


female has precisely the remembrances she has. Some 
important conclusion may be expected from reflection on 
the incredible memory with which women recall all the 
adulation and flattery, all the proofs of gallantry, which 
have happened to them since childhood. 

Whatever may be urged against the present complete 
limitation of the female memory to the sphere of sexuality 
and conjugal life, it is to me quite evident. Various 
arguments about girls' schools, and so forth, I am prepared 
for. These difficulties will have to be cleared away later. 
But I must just say again that all memory, which is to be 
used as a means of psychological definition of the individual, 
can include only the memory of what has been learnt when 
learning means actual experience. 

The explanation of the discontinuity in the psychical life 
of women (reference to which is introduced here, only 
because it is a necessary psychological factor in the problem 
of memory, and without reference to its spiritualistic or 
idealistic significance) can be reached only when the nature 
of continuity is studied with reference to the deepest 
problems of philosophy and psychology. 

As a proof of the fact I will at present quote nothing more 
than the statement of Lotze, which has so often caused 
astonishment, that women much more readily submit them- 
selves to new relationships and more easily accommodate 
themselves to them than men, in whom the parvenu can be 
seen much longer, whereas one might not be able to tell the 
peasant from the peeress, the woman brought up in poor 
surroundings from the patrician's daughter. Later on I 
shall deal more exhaustively with this subject. 

At any rate, it will now be seen why (if neither vanity, 
desire for gossip, nor imitation drives them to it) only the 
better men write down recollections of their lives, and how 
I perceive in this a strong evidence of the connection 
between memory and giftedness. It is not as if every man 
of genius wished to write an autobiography : the incitement 
to autobiography comes from special, very deep-seated 
psychological conditions. But on the other hand, the 


writing of a full autobiography, if it is the oi.tcome of a 
genuine desire, is always the sign of a superior man. For 
real faithful memory is the source of reverence. The really 
great would resist any temptation to give up his past in 
exchange for material advantage or mental health ; the 
greatest treasures of the world, even happiness itself, he 
would not take in exchange for his memories. 

^he desire for a draught of the waters of Lethe is the 
trait of mediocre or inferior natures. And however much a 
really great man, as Goethe says, may condemn and abhor 
his past failings, and although he sees others clinging fast to 
theirs, he will never smile at those past actions and failings 
of his own, or make merry over his early mode of life and 

The class of persons, now so much in evidence, who 
claim to have " conquered " their pasts, have the smallest 
possible claim to the word " conquer." They are those who 
idly relate that they formerly believed this or the other, but 
have now " overcome " their beliefs, whereas they are as 
little in earnest about the present as they were about the 
past. They see only the mechanism, not the soul of things, 
and at no stage what they believe themselves to have 
conquered was deep in their natures. 

4n contrast with these it may be noticed with what painful 
care great men render even the, apparently, most minute 
details in their own biographies tjffor them the past and 
present are equal ; with others neither of the two are real/ 

The famous man realises how everything, even the 
smallest, most secondary, matters played an important part 
in his life, how they have helped his development, and to this 
fact is due his extraordinary reverence for his own memoirs. 
And such an autobiography is not written all at once, as it 
were, with one event treated like another, and without 
meditatio , ; nor does the idea of it suddenly occur to a 
mnn ; the material for such a work by a great man, so to 
speak, is always at hand. 

<^is new experiences acquire a deeper significance because 
of the past, which is always present to him, and hence the 


great man, and only the great man, feels that he himself is in 
very truth a " man of destiny. / And so it comes that great 
men are always more " superstitious " than average men. 
To sum up, I may say : 

Y^ man is himself important precisely in proportion that 
all things seem important to him./ 

In the course of further investigation this dictum will be 
seen to have a deep significance even apart from its bearing 
on theuniversality, comprehension, and comparison exhibited 
by the genius. 

The position of woman in these matters is not difficult to 
explain. A real woman never becomes conscious of a des- 
tiny, of her own destiny ; she is not heroic ; she fights most 
for her possessions, and there is nothing tragic in the struggle 
as her own fate is decided with the fate of her possessions, 
/inasmuch as woman is without continuity, she can have 
no true reverence ; as a fact, reverence is a purely male 
virtue. A man is first reverent about himself, and self- 
respect is the first stage in reverence for all things^ But it 
costs a woman very little to break off with her past ; if the 
word irony could be fittingly used here, one might say that 
a man does not easily regard his past with irony and 
superiority as women appear to do — and not only after 

Later on I shall show how women are exactly the opposite 
of that which reverence means. I would rather be silent 
about the reverence of widows. 

The superstition of women is psychologically absolutely 
different from the superstitions of famous men. 

The reverent relation to one's own past, which depends 
on a real continuity of memory, and which is possible only 
by comprehension, can be shown in relation to a still wider 
and deeper subject. 

Whether a man has a real relationship to his own past or 
not, involves the question as to whether he has a desire for 
immortality, or if the idea of death is indifferent to him. 

The desire for immortality is to-day, as a rule, treated 
shamefully, and in a very different spirit^ 


Not only is the problem treated as merely ontological, but 
/ the psychological side of it is only trifled with. It has been 
held that it is connected, like the doctrine of the trans- 
migration of souls, with the feeling that we have all experi- 
enced, when, in doing something certainly for the first time, 
we seem to remember having gone through the same 
experience before. Another generally adopted view is to 
derive the idea of immortality from the belief in spirits, as 
has been done by Tylor, Spencer, Avenarius, and others, 
although in any other age than this age of experimental 
psychology it would have been dismissed a priori. ( I am 
sure that it must seem impossible to the majority of 
thinking men to regard a belief so important to man- 
kind, about which there has been so much strife, as merely 
the last stage in a syllogism of which the first premiss 
is the midnight dream of a dead man. How can phe- 
nomena of that kind explain the belief in the continuity of 
their lives after death held so firmly by Goethe or Bach, or 
the desire for immortality which speaks to us in Beethoven's 
last sonatas ? The desire for the persistence of the con- 
scious seit must spring from sources mightier than these 
feeble rationalistic guesses^ 
\The deeper source of the belief depends on the relation of 
J a man to his own past. Our consciousness and vision of the 
past is the strongest ground for our desire to be conscious 
in the future. The man who values his past, who holds his 
mental life in greater respect than his corporeal life, is not 
willing to give up his consciousness at death. And so this 
organic primary desire for immortality is strongest in men 
of genius, in the men whose pasts are richest. This con- 
nection between the desire for immortality and memory 
receives strong support from what is related by those who 
have been rescued from sudden death. > Even if they had 
not thought it out before they relive their past in a few 
moments, at once and with frantic rapidity. The feeling of 
what is impending brings in violent contrast the intensity of 
the present consciousness and the idea that it may cease for 
ever. In reality we know very little of the mental state of 


the dying. It takes more than an ordinary person to inter- 
pret it, and for reasons connected with what I have been 
saying men of genius usually avoid death-beds. But it is 
quite wrong to ascribe the sudden appearance of religion in 
so many people who are fatally ill, to a desire to make sure 
of their future state. It is extremely superficial to assume 
that the doctrine of hell can for the first time assume such 
an importance to the dying as to make them afraid to pass 
away "with a lie on their lips."* 

The important point is this : Why do men who have 
lived throughout a lying life feel towards the end a 
sudden desire for truth ? And why are others so horrified, 
although they do not believe in punishment in the next 
world, when they hear of a man dying with a lie on his 
lips or with an unrepented action ? And why have both 
the hardness of heart until the end and the death-bed 
repentance appealed so forcibly to the imagination of 
poets ? The discussion as to the " euthanasia " of atheists, 
which was so popular in the eighteenth century, is more 
than a mere historical curiosity as F. A. Lange con- 
sidered it. 

I adduce these considerations not merely to suggest a 
possibility which is hardly more than a guess. It seems 
to be unthinkable that it is not the case that many more 
people than actual geniuses have some trace of genius. 
The quantitative difference in natural endowment will 
be most marked at the moment when the endowrr'^nt 
becomes active. And for most men this moment is the 
point of dearh. If we were not accustomed to regard men 
of genius as a separate class shut off from the others like the 
payers of income-tax, we should find less difficulty in 
grafting these new ideas on the old. And just as the earliest 
recollections of childhood which a man has are not the 
result of some external event breaking through the 

* I venture to remind readers how often at the approach of 
death those who have been occupied with purely scientific matters 
have turned to religious problems, e.g., Newton, Gauss, Riemann, 



continuity of the past course of his life, but are the result 
of his internal development, there comes to every one a day 
on which his consciousness is so intensified that remem- 
brance remains, and from that time onwards, according to 
his endowment, more or fewer remembrances are formed 
(a factor which by itself upsets the whole of modern 
psychology), so in different men there are many different 
stimulants of the consciousness of which the last is the 
hour of death, and from the point of view of their de- 
gree of genius men might almost be classified by the 
number of things that excite their consciousness. I take 
this opportunity of again urging the falseness of a doc- 
trine of modern psychology (which treats men simply as 
better or worse pieces of registering apparatus and takes 
no notice of the internal, ontogenetic development of the 
mind) ; I mean the idea that in youth we retain the greatest 
number of impressions. We must not confuse really ex- 
perienced impressions with the mere material on which to 
exercise memorising. Such stuff a child learns more easily 
simply because it is not weighted with mental impres- 
sions. A psychology which is opposed to experience in 
matters so fundamental must be rejected. What I am 
attempting at present is no more than to give the faintest 
indication of that ontogenetic psychology or theoretical 
biography which sooner or later will replace what now 
passes for the science of mind. Every programme repre- 
sents some definite conviction ; before we wish to reach a 
goal we have some definite conception of what the goal 
is to be. The name " theoretical biography " will define 
the new subject from philosophy and physiology, and the 
biological method of treatment introduced by Darwin, 
Spencer, and others will be widened until it becomes a 
science capable of giving a rational orderly account of 
the whole course of the mental life from the cradle to the 
grave. It is to be called biography, not biology, because 
it is to deal with the investigation of the permanent laws 
that rule the mental development of an individual, whereas 
biology itself concerns itself with individuals themselves. 


The new knowledge will seek general points of view and 
the establishment of types. Psychology must try to be- 
come theoretical biography. Existing psychology would 
find its place in the branches of the new science, and in 
this way only would Wundt's desire to establish the founda- 
tions of a science of the mind be fulfilled. It would be 
absurd to despair of this simply because of the uselessness 
of the existing science of the mind which has not yet even 
grasped its own object. In this way a justification for 
experimental psychology might yet be found, in spite of the 
important results of the investigations by Windelband and 
Rickert on the relation between natural and psychical 
science, or the old dichotomy between the physical and 
mental sciences. 

The relation between the continuity of memory and the 
desire for immortality is borne out by the fact that woman 
is devoid of the desire for immortality. It is to be noted 
that those persons are quite wrong who have attributed the 
desire for immortality to the fear of death. Women are as 
much afraid of death as are men, but they have not the 
longing for immortality. 

My attempted explanation of the psychological desire for 
immortality is as yet more an indication of the connection 
between the desire and memory than a deduction from a 
higher natural law. It will always be found that the con- 
nection actually exists ; the more a man lives in his past 
(not, as a superficial reader might guess, in his future) the 
more intense will be his longing for immortality. The lack 
of the desire for immortality in women is to be associated 
with the lack in them of reverence for their own personality. 
It seems, however, that the absence of both reverence and 
desire for immortality in woman is due to a more general 
principle, and in the same fashion in the case of man the 
co-existence of a higher form of memory and the desire for 
immortality may be traced to some deeper root. So far, I 
have attempted only to show the coincidence of the two, 
how the deep respect for their own past and the deep desire 
for their own future are to be found in the same individuals. 


It will now be my task to find the common origin of these 
two factors of the mind. 

Let us take as a starting-point what we were able to lay 
down as to the universality of the memory of great men. 
To such everything is equally real: what took place long ago 
and the most recent experience. Thus it happens that a 
single experience does not end with the moment of time in 
which it happened, does not disappear as this moment of 
time disappears, but through the memory is wrested from 
the grasp of time. vM^^mory makes experience timeless ; the 
essence of it is that it should transcend time. A man can 
only remember the past because memory is free from the 
control of time, because events which in nature are functions 
of time, in the spirit have conquered time) 

But here a difficulty crops up. How can memory be a 
negation of time if, on the other hand, it is certain that if 
we had no memory we should be unconscious of time ? It 
is certainly true that we shall always be conscious of the 
passing of time by our memory of the past. If the two are 
in so intimate a relation how can the one be the negation of 
the other ? 

Vrhe difficulty is easy to resolve. It is just because a 
living creature — not necessarily a human being — by being 
endowed with memory is not wholly absorbed by the 
experiences of the moment that it can, so to speak, oppose 
itself to time, take cognisance of it, and make it the subject 
of observation. Were the being wholly abandoned to the 
experience of the moment and not saved from it by memory 
then it would change with time and be a floating bubble in 
the stream of events ; it could never be conscious of time, 
for consciousness implies duality. The mind must have 
transcended time to grasp it, it must have stood outside it 
in order to be able to reflect upon it. This does not apply 
merely to special moments of time, as, for instance, to the 
case that we cannot be conscious of sorrow until the sorrow 
is over, but it is a part of the conception of time. If we 
could not free ourselves from time, we could have no 
knowledge of time^ 


In order to understand the condition of timelessness let 
us reflect on what memory rescues from time. What tran- 
scends time is only what is of interest to the individual, 
what has meaning for him ; in fact, all that he assigns value 
to. We remember only the things that have some value for 
us even if we are unconscious of the value. It is the value 
that creates the timelessness. We forget everything that has 
no value for us even if we are unconscious of that absence 
of value. 

What has value, then, is timeless ; or, to put it the other 
way, a thing has the more value the less it is a function 
of time. In all the world value is in proportion to inde- 
pendence of time ; only things that are timeless have a 
positive value. Although this is not what I take to be the 
deepest and fullest meaning of value, it is, at least, the first 
special law of the theory of values. 

A hasty survey of. common facts will suffice to prove this 
relation between value and duration. We are always in- 
clined to pay little attention to the views of those whom we 
have known only for a short time, and, as a rule, we think 
little of the hasty judgments of those who easily change their 
ideas. On the other hand, uncompromising fixedness gains 
respect, even if it assume the form of vindictiveness or 
obstinacy. The cere perennins of the Roman poets and the 
Egyptian pyramids lasting for forty centuries are favourite 
images. The reputation a man leaves behind him would 
soon be depreciated were it suspected that it would soon 
disappear instead of being handed down the centuries. A 
man dislikes to be told that he is always changing ; but let it 
be put that he is simply showing new sides of his character 
and he will be proud of the permanence through the 
changes. He who is tired of life, for whom life has ceased 
to be of interest, is interesting to no one. The fear of the 
extinction of a name or of a family is well known. 

So also statute laws and customs lose in value if their 
validity is expressly limited in time ; and if two people are 
making a bargain, they will be the more ready to distrust 
one another if the bargain is to be only of short duration. 


In fact, the value that we attach to things depends to a large 
extent on our estimate of their durability. 

This law of values is the chief reason why men are inte- 
rested in their death and their future. The desire for value 
shows itself in the efforts to free things from time, and this 
pressure is exerted even in the case of things which sooner 
or later must change, as, for instance, riches and position 
and everything that we call the goods of this world. Here 
lies the psychological motive for the making of wills and the 
bestowal of property. The motive is not care for relatives, 
because a man without relatives very often is more anxious 
to settle his goods, not feeling, perhaps, like the head of 
a family, that in any event his existence will have some 
kind of permanence, that traces of him will be left after his 
own death. 

The great politician or ruler, and especially the despot, 
whose rule ends with his death, seeks to increase his own 
value by making it independent of time. He may attempt 
it through a code of laws or a biography like that of Julius 
Caesar, by some great philosophical undertaking, by the 
founding of museums or collections, or (and this perhaps is 
the favourite way) by alterations of the calendar. And he 
seeks to extend his power to the utmost during his life-time, 
to preserve it and make it stable by enduring contracts and 
diplomatic marriages, and most of all by attacking and re- 
moving everything that could endanger the permanence of 
his kingdom. And so the politician becomes a conqueror. 

Psychological and philosophical investigations of the 
theory of values have neglected the time element. Perhaps 
this is because they have been very much under the influence 
of political economy. I believe, however, that the appli- 
cation of my principle to political economy would be of 
considerable value. Very slight reflection will lead one to 
see that in commercial affairs the time element is a most 
important factor in estimating value. The common defini- 
tion of value, that it is in proportion to the power of the 
thing valued to relieve our wants, is quite incomplete with- 
out the element of time. Such things as air and water have 


no value only in so far as they are not localised and 
individualised ; but as soon as they have been localised and 
individualised, and so received form, they have received a 
quality that may not last, and with the idea of duration 
comes the idea of value. Form and timelessness, or indi- 
viduation and duration, are the two factors which compose 

Thus it can be shown that the fundamental law of the 
theory of value applies both to individual psychology and to 
social psychology. And now I can return to what is, after 
all, the special task of this chapter. 

The first general conclusion to be made is that the desire 
for timelessness, a craving for value, pervades ail spheres of 
human activity. And this desire for real value, which is 
deeply bound up with the desire for power, is completely 
absent in the woman. It is only in comparatively rare cases 
that old women trouble to make exact directious about the 
disposition of their property, a fact in obvious relation with 
the absence in them of the desire for immortality. 

Over the dispositions of a man there is the weight of 
something solemn and impressive — something which makes 
him respected by other men. 

The desire for immortality itself is merely a specific case 
of the general law that only timeless thmgs have a positive 
value. On this is founded its connection with memory. 
The permanence with which experiences stay with a man is 
proportional to the significance which they had for him. 
Putting it in a paradoxical form, I may say : Value is 
created by the past. Only that which has a positive value 
remains protected by memory from the jaws of time ; and 
so it may be with tlie individual psychical life as a whole. 
If it is to have a positive value, it must not be a function 
of time, but must subdue time by eternal duration after 
physical death. This draws us incomparably nearer the 
innermost motive of the desire for immortality. The com- 
plete loss of significance which a rich, individual, fully-lived 
life would suffer if it were all to end with death, and the 
consequent senselessness of everything, as Goethe said, in 


other words, to Eckermann (February 14, 1829) lead to 
the demand for immortality. The strongest craving for 
immortality is possessed by the genius, and this is explained 
by all the other facts which have been discussed as to his 

Memory only fully vanquishes time when it appears in a 
universal form, as in universal men. 

The genius is thus the only timeless man — at least, this 
and nothing else is his ideal of himself ; he is, as is proved 
by his passionate and urgent desire for immortality, just the 
man with the strongest demand for timeiessness, with the 
greatest desire for value.* 

<And now we are face to face with an almost astonishing 
coincidence. The timeiessness of the genius will not only 
be manifest in relation to the single moments of his life, but 
also in his relation to what is known as " his generation," or, 
in a narrower sense, " his time." As a matter of fact, he 
has no relations at all with it. The age does not create the 
genius it requires. The genius is not the product of his 
age, is not to be explained by it, and we do him no honour 
if we attempt to account for him by it.) 

Carlyle justly noted how many epochs had called for 
great men, how badly they had needed them, and how they 
still did not obtain them. 

The coming of genius remains a mystery, and men 
reverently abandon their efforts to explain it. And as the 
causes of its appearance do not lie in any one age, so also 
the consequences are not limited by time. The achieve- 
ments of genius live for ever, and time cannot change them, 
By his works a man of genius is granted immortality on the 
earth, and thus in a threefold manner he has transcended 
time. His universal comprehension and memory forbid 
the annihilation of his experiences with the passing of the 

* It is often a cause for astonishment that men with quite ordi- 
nary, even vulgar, natures experience no fear of death. But it is 
quite explicable : it is not the fear of death which creates the desire 
for immortality, but the desire for immortality which causes fear of 


moment in which each occurred ; his birth is independent 
of his age, and his work never dies. 

Here is the best place to consider a question which, 
strangely enough, appears to have received no attention. 
The question is, if there be anything akin to genius in the 
world of animals and plants ? Although it must be 
admitted that exceptional forms occur amongst animals 
and plants, these cannot be regarded as coming under our 
definition of genius. Talent may exist amongst them as 
amongst men below the standard of genius. But the 
special gift, what Moreau, Lombroso, and others have called 
the " divine spark," we must deny to animals. This limita- 
tion is not jealousy nor the anxious guarding of a privilege, 
but is founded on good grounds. 

Is there anything unexplained by the assumption that the 
first appearance of genius was in man ! In the first place, it 
is because of this that the human race has an objective 
mind ; in other words, that man is the only organism with a 

^The history of the human race (naturally I mean the 
history of its mind and not merely of its wars) is readily 
intelligible on the theory of the appearance of genius, and 
of the imitation by the more monkey-like individuals of the 
conduct of those with genius. The chief stages, no doubt, 
were house-building, agriculture, and, above all, speech. 
Every single word has been the invention of a single man, 
as, indeed, we still see, if we leave out of consideration the 
merely technical terms. How else could language have 
arisen ? The earliest words were " onomatopoetic " ; a 
sound similar to the exciting cause was evolved almost 
without the will of the speaker, in direct response to the 
sensuous stimulation. All the other words were originally 
metaphors, or comparisons, a kind of primitive poetry, for 
all prose has come from poetry, f Many, perhaps the 
majority of the greatest geniuses, have remained unknown. 
Think of the proverbs, now almost commonplaces, such as 
" one good turn deserves another." These were said for 
the first time by some great man. How many quotations 


from the classics, or sayings of Christ, have passed into the 
common language, so that we have to think twice before we 
can remember who were the authors of them. Language 
is as little the work of the multitude as our ballads. Every 
form of speech owes much that is not acknowledged to 
individuals of another language. Because of the universality 
of genius, the words and phrases that he invents are useful 
not only to those who use the language in which he wrote 
them. /A nation orients itself by its own geniuses, and 
derives from them its ideas of its own ideals, but the guiding 
star serves also as a light to other nations. As speech has 
been created by a few great men, the most extraordinary 
wisdom lies concealed in it, a wisdom which reveals itself 
to a few ardent explorers but which is usually overlooked 
by the stupid professional philologists.^ 

The genius is not a critic of language, but its creator, as 
he is the creator of all the mental achievements which are 
the material of culture and which make up the objective 
mind, the spirit of the peoples. The "timeless" men are 
those who make history, for history can be made only by 
those who are not floating with the stream. It is only those 
who are unconditioned by time who have real value, and 
whose productions have an enduring force. And the 
events that become forces of culture become so only because 
they have an enduring value. 

If we make a criterion of genius the exhibition of this 
threefold " timelessness " we shall have a measure by which 
it is easy to test all claimants. Lombroso and Türck have 
expanded the popular view which ascribes genius to all 
whose intellectual or practical achievements are much 
above the average. Kant and Schelling have insisted on 
the more exclusive doctrine that genius can be predicated 
only of the great creative artists. The truth probably lies 
between the two. I am inclined to think that only great 
artists and great philosophers (amongst the latter, I include, 
above all, the great religious teachers) have proved a claim 
to genius. Neither the " man of action " nor " the man of 
science " has any claim. 


Men of action, famous politicians and generals, may 
possess a few traits resembling genius (particularly a 
specially good knowledge of men and an enormous capacity 
for remembering people). The psychology of such traits 
will be dealt with later ; they are confused with genius only 
by those whom the externals of greatness dazzle. The man 
of genius almost typically renounces such external greatness 
because of the real greatness within him. The really great 
man has the strongest sense of values ; the distinguished 
general is absorbed by the desire for power. The former 
seeks to link power with real value ; the latter desires that 
power itself should be valued. Great generals and great 
politicians, like the bird Phoenix, are born out of fiery chaos 
and like it disappear again in chaos. The great emperor 
or the great demagogue is the only man who lives entirely 
in the present ; he does not dream of a more beautiful, 
better future ; his mind does not dwell on his own past 
which has already passed, and so in the two ways most 
possible to man, he does not transcend time, but lives only 
in the moment. The great genius does not let his work be 
determined by the concrete finite conditions that surround 
him, whilst it is from these that the work of the statesman 
takes its direction and its termination. And so the great 
emperor is no more than a phenomenon of nature, whereas 
the genius is outside nature and is an incorporation of the 
mind. The works of men of action crumble at the death of 
their authors, if indeed they have not already decayed, or 
they survive only a brief time leaving no traces behind 
them except what the chronicles record as having been 
done and later undone. The emperor creates no works 
that survive time, passing into eternity ; such creations come 
from genius. It is the genius in reality and not the other 
who is the creator of history, for it is only the genius who 
is outside and unconditioned by history. The great man 
has a history, the emperor is only a part of history. The 
great man transcends time ; time creates and time destroys 
the emperor. 

The great man of science, unless he is also a philosopher 


(I think of such names as Newton and Gauss, Linnasus 
and Darwin, Copernicus and GaHleo), deserves the title of 
genius as little as the man of action. Men of science are 
not universal ; they deal only with a branch or branches of 
knowledge. This is not due, as is sometimes said, merely to 
the extreme modern specialisation that makes it impossible 
to master everything. Even in the nineteenth and twentieth 
centuries there are still amongst the learned men individuals 
with a knowledge as many-sided as that of Aristotle or 
Leibnitz ; the names of von Humboldt and William Wundt 
at once come to my mind. The absence of genius comes 
from something much more deeply seated in the men of 
science, and in science itself, from a cause which I shall 
explain in the eighth chapter. Probably some one may be 
disposed to argue that if even the most distinguished men 
of science have not a knowledge so universal as that of the 
philosopher, there are some who stand on the outermost 
fringes of philosophy, and to whom it is yet difficult to deny 
the word genius. I think of such men as Fichte, Schleier- 
macher, Carlyle, and Nietzsche. Which of the merely 
scientitic has felt in himself an unconditioned comprehen- 
sion of all men and of all things, or even the capacity to 
verify any single thing in his mind and by his mind ? On 
the contrary, has not the whole history of the science of the 
last thousand years been directed against this ? This is the 
reason why men of science are necessarily one-sided. No 
man of science, unless he is also a philosopher, however 
eminent his achievements, has that continuous unforgetting 
life that the genius exhibits, and this is because of his want 
of universality. 

finally, it is to be observed that the investigations of the 
scientific are always in definite relation to the knowledge of 
their day. The scientific man takes possession of a definite 
store of experimental or observed knowledge, increases or 
alters it more or less, and then hands it on. And much will 
be taken away from his achievements, much will silently 
disappear ; his treatises may make a brave show in the 
libraries, but they cease to be actively alive. On the other 


hand, we can ascribe to the work of the great philosopher, 
as to that of the great artist, an imperishable, unchangeable 
presentation of the world, not disappearing with time, and 
which, because it was the expression of a great mind, will 
always find a school of men to adhere to it. There still exist 
disciples of Plato and Aristotle, of Spinoza and Berkeley 
and Bruno, but there are now none who denote them- 
selves as followers of Galileo or Helmholtz, of Ptolemy or 
Copernicus. It is a misuse of terms, due to erroneous ideas, 
to speak of the " classics " of science or of pedagogy in the 
sense that we speak of the classics of philosophy and art.^ 

The great philosopher bears the name of genius deservedly 
and with honour. And if it will always be the greatest pain 
to the philosopher that he is not an artist, so the artist envies 
the philosopher his tenacious and controlled strength of 
systematic thought, and it is not surprising that the artist has 
taken pleasure in depicting Prometheus and Faust, Prospera 
and Cyprian, Paul the Apostle and II Penseroso. The philo- 
sopher and the artist are alternate sides of one another. 

We must not be too lavish in attributing genius to those 
who are philosophers or we shall not escape the reproach of 
being merely partisans of philosophy against science. Such 
a partisanship is foreign to my purpose, and, I hope, to this 
book, ^t would only be absurd to discuss the claims 
to genius of such men as Anaxagoras, Geulincx, Baader, or 
Emerson. I deny genius either to such unoriginally pro- 
found writers as Angelus Silesius, Philo and Jacobi, or to 
original yet superficial persons such as Comte Feuerbach, 
Hume, Herbart, Locke, and Karneades. The history of art 
is equally full of preposterous valuations, whilst, on the 
other hand, the history of science is extremely free from 
false estimations./ The history of science busies itself very 
little with the biographies of its protagonists ; its object is 
a system of objective, collective knowledge in which the 
individual is swept away. The service of science demands 
the greatest sacrifice, for in it the individual human being 
renounces all claim to eternity as such. 



The title that I have given to this chapter at once opens the 
way to misinterpretation. It might appear as if the author 
supported the view that logical and ethical values were the 
objects exclusively of empirical psychology, psychical 
phenomena, like perception and sensation, and that logic 
and ethics, therefore, were subsections of psychology and 
based upon psychology. 

I declare at once that I call this view, the so-called psy- 
chologismus, at once false and injurious. It is false because 
it can lead to nothing ; and injurious because, while it 
hardly touches logic and ethics, it overthrows psychology 
itself. The exclusion of logic and ethics from the foun- 
dations of psychology, and the insertion of them in an 
appendix, is one of the results of the overgrowth of the 
doctrine of empirical perception, of that strange heap of 
dead, fleshless bones which is known as empirical psycho- 
logy, and from which all real experience has been excluded. 
I have nothing to do with the empirical school, and in this 
matter lean towards the transcendentalism of Kant. 

As the object of my work, however, is to discover the 
differences between different members of humanity, and not 
to discuss categories that would hold good for the angels in 
heaven, I shall not follow Kant closely, but remain more 
directly in psychological paths. 

The justification of the title of this chapter must be 
reached along other Unes. The tedious, because entirely 
new, demonstration of the earlier part of my work has 
shown that the human memory stands in intimate relation 


with things hitherto supDOsed unconnected with it — such 
things as time, value, genius, immortality. I have attempted 
to show that memory stands in intimate connection with all 
these. There must be some strong reason for the complete 
absence of earlier allusions to this side of the subject. I 
believe the reason to be no more than the inadequacy 
and slovenliness which hitherto have spoiled theories of 

I must here call attention to a theory first propounded by 
Charles Bonnet in the middle of the eighteenth century and 
towards the end of the nineteenth century, specially insisted 
upon by Ewald Hering and E. Mach. This theory regarded 
the human memory as being only a special case of a pro- 
perty common to all organised matter, the property that 
makes the path of new stimuli rather easier if these resemble 
stimuli that have acted at some former time. The theory 
really makes the human memory an adaptation in the 
sense of Lamarck, the result on the living organism of 
repeated stimulation. It is true that there is a point in 
common between the human memory and the increase of 
sensitiveness caused by the repeated application of a stimu- 
lus ; that identical element consists in the permanence of 
the effect of the first stimulation. There is, however, a 
fundamental difference between the growth of a muscle 
that is much used or the adaptation of the eater of arsenic 
or morphia to increased doses, and the recollection of past 
experiences by human beings. In the one case the trace of 
the old is just to be felt in the new stimulation ; in the other 
case, by means of the consciousness, the old situations are 
actually reproduced with all their individuation. The iden- 
tification of the two is so superficial that it is a waste of 
time to dwell longer on it. 

The doctrine of association as the theory of memory is 
linked with the foregoing physiological theory as a matter 
of history, through Hartley, and, as a matter of fact, 
because the idea of habit is shared by the two. The asso- 
ciation theory attributes memory to the mechanical play 
of the linking of presentations according to four laws. It 


overlooks the fact that memory (the continuous memory of 
man) is a function of the will. I can remember a thing if 
I really will. In the case of hypnosis, when the recollec- 
tion of all that has been forgotten is induced, an outside 
will replaces the will of the subject. It is will that sets in 
action the chains of association, and we have to deal here 
with something deeper than a mechanical principle. 

In the association psychology, which first splits up the 
psychic life, and then vainly imagines that it can weld the 
re-assorted pieces together again, there is another confusion, 
the confusion between memory and recollection, which 
has persisted in spite of the well-founded objections of 
Avenarius and von Höffding. The recognition of a circum- 
stance does not necessarily involve the special reproduction 
of the former impression, even although there seems to be a 
tendency for the new impression, at least, partly to recall the 
old one. But there is another kind of recognition, perhaps 
as common, in which the new impression does not appear 
to be directly linked with an association, but in which it 
comes, so to speak, "coloured" (James would say "tinged") 
with that character that would be called by von Höffding 
the "familiarity quality." To him who returns to his native 
place the roads and streets seem familiar, even although he 
has forgotten the names, has to ask his way, and can think 
of no special occasion on which he went along them. A 
melody may seem " familiar " and yet I may be unable to 
say where I heard it. /The " character " (in the sense of 
Avenarius) of familiarity, of intimacy, hovers over the sense- 
impression itself, and analysis can detect no associations, 
none of the fusing of the old and new, which, according to 
the assertion of a presumptuous pseudo-psychology, produces 
the feeling ; these cases are quite easy to distinguish from 
cases in which there is a real although vague association 
with an older experience in henid formj 

In individual psychology this distinction is of great 
importance. In the highest types of mankind the conscious- 
ness of the continuous past is present in so active a form 
that the moment such a one sees a acquaintance in the 


street he is at once able to reproduce the last meeting as a 
complete experience, whereas in the case of the less gifted 
person, the feeling of familiarity that makes recognition 
possible, occurs when he is able to recall the past connection 
in all its details. 

If we now, in conclusion, ask whether or no other animals 
than man possess a similar faculty for remembering and 
reviving their earlier lives in their entirety it is most probable 
that the answer must be in the negative. Animals could 
not, as they do, remain for hours at a time, motionless and 
peaceful on one spot, if they were capable of thinking of the 
future or of remembering the past. Animals have the feeling 
of familiarity and the sense of expectation (as we find from 
the recognition of his master by a dog after twenty years' 
absence) ; but they possess no memory and no hope. They 
are capable of recognition through the sense of familiarity, 
but they have no memory. 

As memory has been shown to be a special character 
unconnected with the lower spheres of psychical life, and 
the exclusive property of human beings, it is not surprising 
that it is closely related to such higher things as the idea of 
value and of time, and the craving for immortality, which 
is absent in animals, and possible to men only in so far as 
they possess the quality of genius. If memory be an essen- 
tially human thing, part of the deepest being of humanity, 
finding expression in mankind's most peculiar qualities, 
then it will not be surprising if memory be also related to 
the phenomena of logic and ethics. I have now to explore 
this relationship. 

I may set out from the old proverb that liars have bad 
memories. It is certain that the pathological liar has prac- 
tically no memory. About male liars I shall have more to 
say ; they are not common, however. But if we remember 
what was said as to the absence of memory amongst women 
we shall not be surprised at the existence of the numerous 
proverbs and common sayings about the untruthfulness of 
women. It is evident that a being whose memory is very, 
slight, and who can recall only in the most imperfect fashion 



\vhat it has said or done, or suffered, must lie easily if it has 
the gift of speech. The impulse to untruthfulness will be 
hard to resist if there is a practical object to be gained, and 
if the influence that comes from a full conscious reality of 
the past be not present. The impulse to lie is stronger in 
woman, because, unlike that of man, her memory is not 
continuous, whilst her life is discrete, unconnected, dis- 
continuous, swayed by the sensations and perceptions of 
the moment instead of dominating them. Unlike man, her 
experiences float past without being referred, so to speak, 
to a definite, permanent centre ; she does not feel herself, 
past and present, to be one and the same throughout all her 
life. It happens almost to every man that sometimes he 
"does not understand himself"; indeed, wilh very many 
men, it happens (leaving out of the question the facts of 
psychical periodicity) that if they think over their pasts in 
their minds they find it very difficult to refer all the events 
to a single conscious personality ; they do not grasp how 
it could have been that they, being what they feel themselves 
at the time to be, could ever have done or felt or thought 
this, that, or the other. And yet in spite of the difficulty, 
they know that they had gone through these experiences. 
The feeling of identity in all circumstances of life is quite 
wanting in the true woman, because her memory, even if 
exceptionally good, is devoid of continuity. The conscious- 
ness of identity of the male, even although he may fail to 
understand his own past, manifests itself in the very desire 
to understand that past. Women, if they look back on 
their earlier lives, never understand themselves, and do not 
even wish to understand themselves, and this reveals itself 
in the scanty interest they give to the attempts of man to 
understand them, u he woman does not interest herself about 
herself, and hence there have been no female psychologists, 
no psychology of women written by a woman, and she is 
incapable of grasping the anxious desire of the man to 
understand the beginning, middle, and end of his individual 
life in their relation to each other, and to interpret the 
whole as a continual, logical, necessary sequence.) 


At this point there is a natural transition to logic. A 
creature like woman, the absolute woman, who is not con- 
scious of her own identity at different stages of her life, has 
no evidence of the identity of the subject-matter of thought 
at different times. \If in her mind the two stages of a change 
cannot be present simultaneously by means of memory, it 
is impossible for her to make the comparison and note the 
change.) A being whose memory is never sufficiently good 
as to make it psychologically possible to perceive identity 
through the lapse of time, so as to enable her, for instance, 
to pursue a quantity through a long mathematical reckoning ; 
such a creature in the extreme case would be unable to 
control her memory for even the moment of time required 
to say that A will be still A in the next moment, to pronounce 
judgment on the identity A = A, or on the opposite propo- 
sition that A is not equal to A, for that proposition also 
requires a continuous memory of A to make the comparison 

I have been making no mere joke, no facetious sophism 
or paradoxical proposition. I assert that the judgment of 
identity depends on conceptions, never on mere perceptions 
and complexes of perceptions, and the conceptions, as 
logical conceptions, are independent of time, retaining their 
constancy, whether I, as a psychological entity, think them 
constant or not. But man never has a conception in the 
purely logical form, for he is a psychological being, affected 
by the condition of sensations ; he is able only to form a 
general idea (a typical, connotative, representative concep- 
tion) out of his individual experiences by a reciprocal 
effacing of the differences and strengthening of the simi- 
larities, thus, however, very closely approximating to an 
abstract conception, and in a most wonderful fashion using 
it as such. He must also be able to preserve this idea 
which he thinks clear, although in reality it is confused, and 
it is memory alone that brings about the possibility of that 
Were he deprived of memory he would lose the possibility 
of thinking logically, for this possibility is incarnated, so to 
speak, only in a psychological medium. 


Memory, then, is a necessary part of the logical faculty. 
The propositions of logic are not conditioned by the exist- 
ence of memory, but only the power to use them. The 
proposition A = A must have a psychological relation to 
time, otherwise it would be Ati = At2. Of course this is not 
the case in pure logic, but man has no special faculty of 
pure logic, and must act as a psychological being. 

I have already shown that the continuous memory is the 
vanquisher of time, and, indeed, is necessary even for the 
idea of time to be formed. And so the continuous memory 
is the psychological expression of the logical proposition of 
identity. The absolute woman, in whom memory is absent, 
cannot take the proposition of identity, or its contradictory, 
or the exclusion of the alternative, as axiomatic. 

Besides these three conditions of logical thought, the 
fourth condition, the containing of the conclusion in the 
major premiss, is possible only through memory. That 
proposition is the groundwork of the syllogism. The pre- 
misses psychologically precede the conclusion, and must be 
retained by the thinking person whilst the minor premiss 
applies the law of identity or of non-identity. The grounds 
for the conclusion must lie in the past. And for this reason 
continuity which dominates the mental processes of man is 
bound up with causality. Every psychological application 
of the relation of a conclusion to its premisses implies the 
continuity of memory to guarantee the identity of the propo- 
sitions. As woman has no continuous memory she can 
have no principium rationis sufficientis. 

And so it appears that woman is without logic. 

George Simmel has held this familiar statement to be 
erroneous, inasmuch as women have been known to draw 
conclusions with the strongest consistency. That a woman 
in a concrete case can unrelentingly pursue a given course 
at the stimulation of some object is no more a proof that 
she understands the syllogism, than is her habit of perpetually 
recurring to disproved arguments a proof that the law of 
identity is an axiom for her. ^he point at issue is whether 
or no they recognise the logical axioms as the criteria of 


the validity of their thoughts, as the directors of their process 
of thinking, whether they make or do not make these the 
rule of conduct and the principle of judgment. A woman 
cannot grasp that one must act from principle ; as she has 
no continuity she does not experience the necessity for 
logical support of her mental processes. Hence the ease 
with which women assume opinions. If a woman gives vent 
to an opinion, or statement, and a man is so foolish as 
to take it seriously and to ask her for the proof of it, 
she regards the request as unkind and offensive, and as 
impugning her character. A man feels ashamed of himself, 
feels himself guilty if he has neglected to verify a thought, 
whether or no that thought has been uttered by him ; he 
feels the obligation to keep to the logical standard which he 
has set up for himself. Woman resents any attempt to 
require from her that her thoughts should be logical. <^he 
may be regarded as " logically insane."/ 

The most common defect which one could discover in the 
conversation of a woman, if one really wished to apply to it 
the standard of logic (a feat that man habitually shuns, so 
showing his contempt for a woman's logic) is the quaternio 
terminorum, that form of equivocation which is the result of 
an incapacity to retain definite presentations; in other words, 
the result of a failure to grasp the law of identity. Woman is 
unaware of this ; she does not realise the law nor make it a 
criterion of thought. <^Man feels himself bound to logic ; the 
woman is without this feeling. It is only this feeling of guilt 
that guarantees man's efforts to think logically. Probably 
the most profound saying of Descartes, and yet one that 
has been widely misunderstood, is that all errors are crimes) 

(The source of all error in life is failure of memory. Thus 
logic and ethics, both of which deal with the furtherance of 
truth and join in its highest service, are dependent on 
memory. The conception dawns on us that Plato was not 
so far wrong when he connected discernment with memory. 
Memory, it is true, is not a logical and ethical act, but it is a 
logical and ethical phenomenon) <^A man who has had a 
vivid and deep perception regards it as a fault, if some half- 


hour afterwards he is thinking of something different, even 
if external influences have intervened. A man thinks him- 
self unconscientious and blameworthy if he notices that he 
has not thought of a particular portion of his life for a long 
time. Memory, moreover, is linked with morality, because 
it is only through memory that repentance is possible. All 
forgetfulness is in itself immoral. And so reverence ps a 
moral exercise ; it is a duty to forget nothing, and for this 
reason we should reverence the dead.) Equally from logical 
and ethical motives, man tries to carry logic into his past, in 
order that past and present may become one. 

\It is with something of a shock that we realise here*that 
we approach the deep connection between logic and ethics, 
long ago suggested by Socrates and Plato, discovered anew 
by Kant and Fichte, but lost sight of by living workers. 

A creature that cannot grasp the mutual exclusiveness of 
A and not A has no difficulty in lying ; more than that, 
such a creature has not even any consciousness of lying, 
being without a standard of truth. Such a creature if 
endowed with speech will lie without knowing it, without 
the possibility of knowing it; Veritas norma sui et falsa est. 
There is nothing more upsetting to a man than to find, when 
he has discovered a woman in a lie, and has asked her, 
" Why did you lie about it ? " that she simply does not 
understand the question, but simply looks at him and 
laughingly tries to soothe him, or bursts into tearsi 

The subject does not end with the part played by memory. 
Lying is common enough amongst men. And lies can be 
told in spite of a full remembrance of the subject which for 
some purpose some one wishes to be informed about. 
Indeed, it might almost be said that the only persons who 
can lie are those who misrepresent facts in spite of a 
superior knowledge and consciousness of them. 

-(Truth must first be regarded as the real value of logic and 
ethics before it is correct to speak of deviations from truth 
for special motives as lies from the moral point of view. 
Those who have not this high conception should be 
adjudged as guilty rather of vagueness and exaggeration 


than of lying : they are not immoral but non-moral. And 
in this sense the woman is non-moral.) 

The root of such an absolute misconception of truth must 
lie deep. The continuous memory against which alone a 
man can be false, is not the real source of the effort for 
truth, the desire for truth, the basal ethical-logical 
phenomenon, but only stands in intimate relation with it, 

(That which enables man to have a real relation to truth 
and which removes his temptation to lie, must be some- 
thing independent of all time, something absolutely 
unchangeable, which as faithfully reproduces the old as if it 
were new, because it is permanent itself ; it can only be 
that source in which all discrete experiences unite and 
which creates from the first a continuous existence. It is 
what produces the feehng of responsibility which oppresses 
all men, young and old, as to their actions, which makes 
them know that they are responsible, which leads to the 
phenomena of repentance and consciousness of sin, which 
calls to account before an eternal and ever present self 
things that are long past, its judgment being subtler and 
more comprehensive than that of any court of law or of the 
laws of society, and which is exerted by the individual him- 
self quite independently of all social codes (so condemning 
the moral psychology which would derive morality from 
the social life of man). Society recognises the idea of 
illegality, but not of sin ; it presses for punishment without 
wishing to produce repentance ; lying is punished by the 
law only in its ceremonious form of perjury, and error has 
never been placed under its ban.) Social ethics with its 
conception of duty to our neighbour and to society, and 
practical exclusion from consideration of the other fifteen 
hundred million human beings, cannot extend the realm 
of morality, when it begins by limiting it in this arbitrary 

What is this " centre of apperception " that is superior to 
time and change ? 

It can be nothing less than what raises man above himself 
(as a part of the world of sense) which joins him to an 


order of things that only the reason can grasp, and that 
puts the whole world of sense at his feet. It is nothing else 
than personality. 

The most sublime book in the world, the " Criticism of 
Practical Reason," has referred morality to an intelli.^ent 
ego, distinct from all empirical consciousness. I must now 
turn to that side of my subject. 



(PAVID Hume is well known to have abolished the concep- 
tion of the ego by seeing in it only a bundle of different 
perceptions in continual ebb and flow. However completely 
Hume thought himself to have compromised the ego, at 
least he explained his view relatively moderately. He 
proposed to say nothing about a few metaphysicians who 
appeared to rejoice in another kind of ego ; for himself he 
was quite certain that he had none, and he dared to suppose 
that the majority of mankind, leaving the few peculiar 
metaphysicians out of the question, were, like himself, mere 
bundles. So the polite man expressed himself. In the 
next chapter I shall show how his irony recoils on himself. 
That his view became so famous depends partly on the 
over-estimation in which Hume is held and which is largely 
due to Kant. Hume was a most distinguished empirical 
psychologist, but he cannot be regarded as a genius, the 
popular view notwithstanding.) It is not very much to be 
the first of English philosophers, but Hume has not even a 
claim to that position. I do not think that Kant would 
have given so much praise to Hume if he had been fully 
acquainted with all Hume's work and not merely with the 
" Enquiry," as he certainly rejected the position of Spinoza, 
according to which men were not " substances," but merely 

-Lichtenberg, who took the field against the ego later than 
Hume, was still bolder. He is the philosopher of imperson- 
ality, and calmly corrects the conversational " I think" mto 
an actual " it thinks " ; he regards the ego as a creation of 


the grammarian. In this Hume had anticipated him, inas- 
much as he also had declared, at the end of his analysis, all 
disputes as to the identity of the person to be merely a 
battle of words.) 

E. Mach has recently represented the universe as a 
coherent mass, and the egos as points in which the coherent 
mass has greater consistency. The only realities are the 
perceptions, which are connected in one individual strongly, 
but which are weaker in another individual who is thus 
differentiated from the first. 

The contents of the perceptions are the realities, and they 
persist externally to the worthless personal recollections. 
The ego is not a real but only a practical entity and cannot 
be isolated, and, therefore, the idea of individual immortality 
must be rejected. None the less the idea of an ego is not 
wholly to be rejected ; here and there, as, for instance, in 
Darwin's struggle for existence, it appears to have some 

It is extraordinary how an investigator who has accom- 
plished so much, not only as a historian of his special branch 
and as a critic of ideas, but who is also fully equipped 
with knowledge of biology, should have paid no heed to the 
fact that every organic being is indivisible from the first, 
and is not composed of anything like atoms, monads, &c. 
The first distinctive mark of the living as opposed to 
inorganic matter is that the former is always differentiated 
into dissimilar, mutually dependent parts, and is not 
homogeneous like a crystal. And so it should have been 
borne in mind that it was at least possible that individuation» 
the fact that organic beings are not united, like Siamese 
twins, would prove to have importance in psychical matters, 
and the ego, therefore, was more than Mach's idea of it as 
a mere waiting-hall of perceptions. 

It may be that there exists a psychical correlation even 
amongst animals. Everythmg that an animal feels and 
perceives has a different " note " or " colour " in every 
individual. This individual quality is not only characteristic 
of the class, genus, species, race, and family, but also is 


different in every individual of the same family, &c. The 
idioplasm is the physiological equivalent of this specific 
individual quality of the sensations and perceptions, and 
there are reasons analogous with those in favour of the 
supposition of an idioplasm for the supposition of an 
individual character amongst animals. The sportsman 
who has to do with dogs, the trainer with horses, and the 
keeper with animals will readily admit the existence of this 
individuality as a constant element. It is clear that we have 
to do here with something more than a mere rendezvous of 

But even if this psychical analogue of the idioplasm were 
proved to exist in the case of animals, it could not be 
ranked with the intelligible character, the existence of which 
in any living creature except man cannot be maintained. 
The intelligible character of men, their individuation, has 
the same relation to empirical character that memory has 
to the simple power of recognition. And finally we come 
to identity, by which the structure, form, law, and cosmos 
persist even through the change of contents. \The conside- 
rations from which is drawn the proof of the existence in 
man of such a noumenal, trans-empirical subject must now 
be stated briefly./ They come from logic and ethics. 

Logic deals with the true significance of the principle of 
identity (also with that of contradiction ; the exact relation 
of these two, and the various modes of stating it are con- 
troversial matters outside the present subject). The propo- 
sition A = A is axiomatic and self-evident. It is the primi- 
tive measure of truth for all other propositions ; however 
much we may think over it we must return to this funda- 
mental proposition. It is the principle of the distinction 
between truth and error ; and he who regards it as meaning- 
less tautology, as was the case with Hegel and many of the 
later empiricists (this being not the only surprising point of 
contact between two schools apparently so different) is 
right in a fashion, but has misunderstood the nature of the 
proposition. A = A, the principle of all truth, cannot itself 
be a special truth. He who finds the proposition of identity 


or that of non-identity meaningless does so by his own 
fault. He must have expected to find in these propositions 
special ideas, a source of positive knowledge. ''^But they 
are not in themselves knowledge, separate acts of thought, 
but the common standard for all acts of thought^ And so 
they cannot be compared with other acts of thought. <(The 
rule of the process of thought must be outside thought. 
The proposition of identity does not add to our knowledge ; 
it does not increase but rather founds a kingdom. The 
proposition of identity is either meaningless or means 
everything. Upon what do the propositions of identity 
and of non-identity depend ? The common view is that 
they are judgments. Sigwart, for instance, who has recently 
discussed the matter, puts it as follows : The two judgments 
A is B and A is not B cannot be true at the same time 
because the judgment "An unlearned man is learned" 
would involve a contradiction because the predicate 
"learned" is affirmed of a subject of which the judg- 
ment has been made implicitly that he is unlearned, so 
that in reality two judgments are made, X is learned and 
X is unlearned. The " psychologismus " of this method of 
argument is plain. It has recourse to a temporary judg- 
ment preceding the formation of the conception "unlearned 
man." The proposition, however, A is not A claims validity 
quite apart from the past, present, or future existence of 
other judgments. It depends on the conception " unlearned 
man." It makes the conception more certain by excluding 
contradictory instances. 

^ This, then, gives us the true function of the principles of 
identity and non-identity. They are materials for concep- 

This function concerns only logical conceptions, but not 
what have been called psychological conceptions. The 
conception is always represented psychologically by a 
generalisation ; and this presentation in a certain fashion is 
included in the conception. The generalisation represents 
the conception psychologically, but is not identical with it. 
It can, so to speak, be richer (as when I think of a triangle) 


or it can be poorer (the conception of a lion contains more 
than my generaUsation of Hons). The logical conception 
is the plumb-line which the attention tries to follow ; it is 
the goal and pole-star of the psychological generalisation. 

\Pure logical thought cannot occur in the case of men ; 
it would be an attribute of deity. A human being must 
always think partly psychologically because he possesses 
not only reason but also senses, and his thought cannot free 
itself from temporal experiences but must remain bound by 
them. Logic, however, is the supreme standard by which 
the individual can test his own psychological ideas and 
those of others. When two men are discussing anything 
it is the conception and not the varying individual pre- 
sentations of it that they aim at. ) The conception, then, is 
the standard of value for the individual presentations. The 
mode in which the psychological generalisation comes into 
existence is quite independent of the conception and has 
no significance in respect to it. The logical character 
which invests the conception with dignity and power is 
not derived from experience, for experience can give only 
vague and wavering generalisations. Absolute constancy 
and absolute coherence which cannot come from ex- 
perience are the essence of the conception of that power 
concealed in the depths of the human mind whose handi- 
work we try hard but in vain to see in nature. Concep- 
tions are the only true realities, and the conception is not 
in nature ; it is the rule of the essence not of the actual 

\When I enunciate the proposition A = A, the meaning 
of the proposition is not that a special individual A of 
experience or of thought is like itself. The judgment of 
identity does not depend on the existence of an A. It 
means only that if an A exists, or even if it does not exist, 
then A = A. Something is posited, the existence of A = A 
whether or no A itself exists. It cannot be the result of 
experience, as Mill supposed, for it is independent of the 
existence of A. But an existence has been posited ; it is 
not the existence of the object ; it must be the existence of 


the subject. "sThe reality of the existence is not in the first 
A or the second A, but in the simultaneous identity of the 
two. And so the proposition A = A is no other than the 
proposition " I am."^ 

/From the psychological point of view, the real meaning 
oT^the proposition of identity is not so difficult to interpret. 
It is clear that to be able to say A = A, to establish the per- 
manence of the conception through the changes of ex- 
perience, there must be something unchangeable, and this 
can be only the subject. Were I part of the stream of 
change I could not verify that the A had remained 
unchanged, had remained itself. Were I part of the 
change, I could not recognise the change. Fichte was 
right when he stated that the existence of the ego was to 
be found concealed in pure logic, inasmuch as the ego is 
the condition of intelligible existence. 
/ The logical axioms are the principle of all truth. These 
I posit an existence towards which all cognition serves. 
) Logic is a law which must be obeyed, and man realises 
/ himself only in so far as he is logical. He finds himself 
j in cognition.^ 

\ All error must be felt to be crime. And so man must 
not err. He must find the truth, and so he can find it. 
The duty of cognition involves the possibility of cognition, 
the freedom of thought, and the hope of ascertaining 
truth. In the fact that logic is the condition of the mind 
lies the proof that thought is free and can reach its goal. 

O can treat ethics briefly and in another fashion, inas- 
much as what I have to say is founded on Kant's moral 
philosophy. The deepest, the intelligible, part of the nature 
of man is that part which does not take refuge in 
causality, but which chooses in freedom the good or the 
bad.^ This is manifest in consciousness of sin and in 
repentance. No one has attempted to explain these facts 
otherwise ; and no one allows himself to be persuaded 
that he must commit this or that act. In the shall there 
lies the possibility of the can. The causal determining 
factors, the lower motives that act upon him, he is fully 


aware of, but he remains conscious of an intelligible ego 
free to act in a different way from other egos. 

Truth, purity, faithfulness, uprightness, with reference to 
oneself ; these give the only conceivable ethics. Duty is 
only duty to oneself, duty of the empirical ego to the 
intelligible ego. These appear in the form of two impera- 
tives that will always put to shame every kind of psych o- 
logismus — the logical law and the moral law. The internal 
direction, the categorical imperatives of logic and morality 
which dominate all the codes of social util'tarianism are 
factors that no empiricism can explain. All empiricism 
and scepticism, positivism and relativism, instinctively feel 
that their principal difficulties lie in logic and ethics. And 
so perpetually renewed and fruitless efforts are made to 
explain this inward discipline empirically and psychologi- 

Logic and ethics are fundamentally the same, they are 
no more than duty to oneself. They celebrate their union 
by the highest service of truth, which is overshadowed in 
the one case by error, in the other by untruth. <A11 ethics 
are possible only by the laws of logic, and logic is no more 
than the ethical side of law. Not only virtue, but also 
insight, not only sanctity but also wisdom, are the duties 
and tasks of mankind. Through the union of these alone 
comes perfection. \ 

Ethics, however, the laws of which are postulates, cannot 
be made the basis of a logical proof of existence. Ethics are 
not logical in the same sense that logic is ethical. Logic 
proves the absolute actual existence of the ego ; ethics con- 
trol the form which the actuality assumes. Ethics dominate 
logic and make logic part of their contents. 

In thinking of the famous passage in the "Critique of 
Practical Reason," where Kant introduces man as a part of 
the intelligible cosmos, it may be asked how Kant assured 
himself that the moral law was inherent in personality. 
The answer Kant gave was simply that no other and no 
nobler origin could be found for it. He goes no further 
than to say that the categorical imperative is the law of 


the noumenon, belonging to it and inherent in it from the 
beginning. That, however, is the nature of ethics. / Ethics 
make it possible for the intelligible ego to act free from 
the shackles of empiricism, and so through ethics, the 
existence of whose possibilities logic assures us, is able to 
become actual in all its purit3^| 

There remains a most important point in which the 
Kantian system is often misunderstood. It reveals itself 
plainly in every case of wrong-doing. 

Duty is only towards oneself ; Kant must have realised 
this in his earlier days when first he felt an impulse to lie. 
Except for a few indications in Nietzsche, and in Stirner, 
and a few others, Ibsen alone seems to have grasped the 
principle of the Kantian ethics (notably in " Brand " and 
" Peer Gvnt "). The following two quotations also give 
the Kantian view in a general way : 

First Nebbel's epigram, " Lies and Truth." 

" Which do you pay dearer for, lies or the truth ? The 
former costs you yourself, the latter at most your happiness." ) 

Next, the well-known words of Sleika from the "Wes- 
töstlichen Diwan " : 

(All sorts go to make a world, 
The crowd and the rogue and the hero; 
But the highest fortune of earth's children 
Is always in their own personality. 

It matters little how a man lives 

If only he is true to himself; 

It matters nothing what a man may lose 

If he remains what he really is.) 

It is certainly true that most men need some kind of a 
God. A few, and they are the men of genius, do not bow 
to an alien law. The rest try to justify their doings and 
misdoings, their thinking and existence (at least the mental 
side of it), to some one else, whether it be the personal God 
of the Jews, or a beloved, respected, and revered human 
being. It is only in this way that they can bring their lives 
under the social law. 


Kant was permeated with his conviction, as is con- 
spicuous in the minutest details of his chosen Hfe-work, 
that man was responsible only to himself, to such an 
extent that he regarded this side of his theory as self- 
evident and least likely to be disputed. This silence of Kant 
has brought about a misunderstanding of his ethics — the 
only ethics tenable from the psychologically introspective 
standpoint, the only system according to which the insistent 
strong inner voice of the one is to be heard through the 
noise of the many. 

■■ I gather from a passage in his " Anthropology " that even 
in the case of Kant some incident in his actual earthly life 
preceded the " formation of his character." The birth of 
the Kantian ethics, the noblest event in the history of the 
world, was the moment when for the first time the dazzling 
awful conception came to him, " I am responsible only to 
myself ; I must follow none other ; I must not forget 
myself even in my work ; I am alone ; I am free ; I am lord 
of myself." ; 

" Two things fill my mind with ever renewed wonder 
and awe the more often and the deeper I dwell on them — 
the starry vault above me and the moral law within me. I 
must not look on them both as veiled in mystery or think 
that their majesty places them beyond me. I see them 
before me, and they are part of the consciousness of my 
existence. The first arises from my position in the outer 
world of the senses, and links me with the immeasurable 
space in which worlds and worlds and systems and systems, 
although in immeasurable time, have their ebbs and flows, 
their beginnings and ends. The second arises from my 
invisible self, my personality, and places me in a world that 
has true infinity, but which is evident only to the reason 
and with which I recognise myself as being bound, not 
accidentally as in the other case but in a universal and 
necessary union. On the one hand, the consciousness of 
an endless series of worlds destroys my sense of importance, 
making me only one of the animal creatures which must 
return its substance again to the planet (that, too, being nc 



more than a point in space) from whence it came, after 
having been in some unknown way endowed with life for a 
brief space. The second point of view enhances my im- 
portance, makes me an intelHgence, infinite and uncon- 
ditioned through my personaHty, the moral law in which 
separates me from the animals and from the world of sense, 
removes me from the limits of time and space, and links 
me with infinity." 

The secret of the critique of practical reason is that man 
is alone in the world, in tremendous eternal isolation. 

He has no object outside himself ; lives for nothing else ; 
he is far removed from being the slave of his wishes, of his 
abilities, of his necessities ; he stands far above social 
ethics ; he is alone. 

\rhus he becomes one and all ; he has the law in him, 
and so he himself is the law, and no mere changing caprice. 
The desire is in him to be only the law, to be the law that 
is ihimself, without afterthought or forethought. This is 
the awful conclusion, he has no longer the sense that there 
can be duty for him. Nothing is superior to him, to the 
isolated absolute unity. But there are no alternatives for 
him ; he must respond to his own categorical imperatives, 
absolutely, impartially. " Freedom," he cries (for instance, 
Wagner, or Schopenhauer), " rest, peace from the enemy ; 
peace, not this endless striving " ; and he is terrified. Even 
in this wish for freedom there is cowardice ; in the igno- 
minious lament there is desertion as if he were too small 
for the fight. What is the use of it all, he cries to the 
universe ; and is at once ashamed, for he is demanding 
happiness, and that his own burden should rest on other 
shoulders. Kant's lonely man does not dance or laugh ; 
he neither brawls nor makes merry ; he feels no need to 
make a noise, because the universe is so silent around him. 
To acquiesce in his loneliness is the splendid supremacy of 
the Kantian.) 


•' In the beginning the world was nothing but the 
Atman, in the form of a man. It looked around and 
saw nothing different to itself. Then it cried out once, 
It is L' That is how the word ' I ' came to be. That 
is why even at the present day, if any one is called, he 
answers, 'It is I,' and then recalls his other name, the 
one he bears." — (Brihadaranyata-Upanishad.) 

Many disputations about principles in psychology arise 
from individual characterological differences in the dis- 
putants. Thus, in the mode that I have already suggested, 
charactero)ogy might play an important part. When one 
person thinks to have discovered this, the other that, by 
introspection, characterology would have to show why the 
results in the one case should differ from those in the other, 
or, at least, to point out in what other respects the persons in 
question were unlike. I see no other possible way of clear- 
ing up the disputed points of psychology. Psychology is a 
science of experiences, and, therefore, it must proceed from 
the individual to the general, and not, as in the supra-indi- 
vidualistic laws of logic and ethics, proceed from the uni- 
versal to the individual case. There is no such thing as an 
empirical general psychology ; and it would be a mistake 
to approach such without having fully reckoned with 
differential psychology. 

It is a great pity that psychology has been placed between 
philosophy and the analysis of perceptions. From which- 
ever side psychologists approached the subject, they have 
always been assured of the general validity of their results. 


Perhaps even so fundamental a question as to whether or 
no perception itself implies an actual and spontaneous act 
of consciousness cannot be solved without a consideration 
of characterological differences. 

The purpose of this work is to apply characterology to 
the solution of a few of these doubtful matters, with special 
reference to the distinctions between the sexes. The different 
conceptions of the I-problem, however, depend not so much 
on differences of sex as on differences in giftedness. The 
dispute between Hume and Kant receives its characterolo- 
gical explanation much in the same way as if 1 were to dis- 
tinguish two men in so far as the one held in the highest 
esteem the works of Makart and Gounod, the other those 
of Rembrandt and Beethoven. I would simply distinguish 
the two by their giftedness. So also the judgments about 
the " I " must be very different in the cases of differently 
gifted men. There have been no truly great men who were 
not persuaded of the existence of the " I " ; a man who 
denies it cannot be a great man. 

In the course of the following pages this proposition will 
be taken as absolutely binding, and will be used really as a 
means of valuing genius. 

There has been no famous man who, at least some time 
in the course of his life, and generally earlier in proportion 
to his greatness, has not had a moment in which he was 
absolutely convinced of the possession of an ego in the 
highest sense. 

Let us compare the following utterances of three very 
great geniuses. 

Jean Paul relates in his autobiographical sketch, " Truths 
from my own Life " : 

** I can never forget a circumstance which, so far, has 
been related by no one — the birth of my own self-conscious- 
ness, the time and place of which I can tell. One morning 
I was standing, as a very young child, at the front door, and 
looking towards the wood-shed I suddenly saw, all at once, 
my inner likeness. ' I ' am ' I' flashed like lightning from 
the skies across me, and since then has remained. I saw 


myself then for the first time and for ever. This cannot be 
explained as a confusion of memory, for no alien narrative 
could have blended itself with this sacred event, preserved 
permanently in my memory by its vividness and novelty." 

Novalis, in his " Miscellaneous Fragments," refers to an 
identical experience : 

"This factor every one must experience for himself. It 
is a factor of the higher order, and reveals itself only to 
higher men ; but men should strive to induce it in them- 
selves. Philosophy is the exercise of this factor, it is a 
true self-revelation, the stimulation of the real ego by the 
ideal ego. It is the foundation of all other revelations ; 
the resolution to philosophise is a challenge to the actual 
ego, to become conscious of itself, to grow and to become 
a soul." 

^Schelling discusses the same phenomenon in his "Philoso- 
phical Letters upon Dogmatism and Criticism," a little 
known early work, in which occurs the following beautiful 
words : 

" In all of us there dwells a secret marvellous power of 
freeing ourselves from the changes of time, of withdrawing to 
our secret selves away from external things, and of so discover- 
ing to ourselves the eternal in us in the form of unchange- 
ability. This presentation of ourselves to ourselves is the most 
truly personal experience upon which depends everything 
that we know of the supra-sensual world. This presenta- 
tion shows us for the first time what real existence is, whilst 
all else only appears to be. It differs from every presenta- 
tion of the sense in its perfect freedom, whilst all other 
presentations are bound, being overweighted by the burden 
of the object. Still there exists for those who have not 
this perfect freedom of the inner sense some approach to 
it, experiences approaching it from which they may gain 
some faint idea of it. . . . )This intellectual presentation 
occurs when we cease to be our own object, when, with- 
drawing into ourselves, the perceiving self merges in the 
self-perceived. At that moment we annihilate time and 
duration of time; we are no longer in time, but time, or 


rather eternity itself, is in us. The external world is no 
longer an object for us, but is lost in us." 

The positivist will perhaps only laugh at the self-deceived 
deceiver, the philosopher who asserts that he has had such 
experiences. Well, it is not easy to prevent it. It is also 
unnecessary. But I am by no means of the opinion that 
this " factor of a higher order " plays the same part in all 
men of genius of a mystical identity of subject and object 
as Schelling describes it. 

Whether there are undivided experiences in which the 
dualism of actual life is overcome, as is indicated by Plotin 
and the Indian Mahatmas, or whether this is only the 
highest intensification of experience, but in principle similar 
to all others — does not signify here, the coincidence of sub- 
ject and object, of time and eternity, the representing of 
God through living men, will neither be demonstrated as 
possible nor denied as impossible. The experiencing of 
one's own " I " is not to be begun by theoretical knowledge, 
and no one has ever, so far, tried to put it in the position of 
a systematic philosophy. I shall, therefore, not call this 
factor of a higher order, which manifests itself in some men 
in one way and in other men in another way, an essential 
manifestation of the true ego, but only a phase of it. 
'(^Every great man knows this phase of the ego. He may 
become conscious of it first through the love of a woman, 
for the great man loves more intensely than the ordinary 
man ; or it may be from the contrast given by a sense of 
guilt or the knowledge of having failed ; these, too, the 
great man feels more intensely than smaller-minded people. 
It may lead him to a sense of unity with the all, to the 
seeing of all things in God, or, and this is more likely, it 
may reveal to him the frightful dualism of nature and spirit 
in the universe, and produce in him the need, the craving, 
for a solution of it, for the secret inner wonder) But always 
it leads the great man to the beginning of a presentation of 
the world for himself and by himself, without the help of 
the thought of others. 

This intuitive vision of the world is not a great synthesis 


elaborated at his writing-table in his library from all the 
books that have been written ; it is something that has been 
experienced, and as a whole it is clear and intelligible, 
although details may still be obscure and contradictory. 
The excitation of the ego is the only source of this intuitive 
vision of the world as a whole in the case of the artist as in 
that of the philosopher. And, however different they may 
be, if they are really intuitive visions of the cosmos, they 
have this in common, something that comes only from the 
excitation of the ego, the faith that every great man pos-> 
sesses, the conviction of his possession of an " I " or soul, 
which is solitary in the universe, which faces the universe 
and comprehends it.- 

From the time of this first excitation of his ego, the great 
man, in spite of lapses due to the most terrible feeling, the 
feeling of mortality, will live in and by his soul. 
,(And it is for this reason, as well as from the sense of his 
creative powers, that the great man has so intense a self- 
consciousness. Nothing can be more unintelligent than to 
talk of the modesty of great men, of their inability to recog- 
nise what is within them. There is no great man who does 
not well know how far he differs from others (except during 
these periodical fits of depression to which I have already 
alluded). Every great man feels himself to be great as soon 
as he has created something ; his vanity and ambition are, 
in fact, always so great that he over-estimates himself. 
Schopenhauer believed himself to be greater than Kant. 
Nietzsche declared that " Thus spake Zarathustra " was the 
greatest book in the world. 

There is, however, a side of truth in the assertion that 
great men are m^,dest. They are never arrogant. Arro- 
gance and self-realisation are contradictories, and should 
never be confui^ed although this is often done. A man has 
just as much arrogance as he lacks of self-realisation, and 
uses it to increase his own self-consciousness by artificially 
lowering his estimation of others. Of course the fore- 
going holds true only of what may be called physiological, 
unconscious arrogance ; the great man must occasionally 


comport himself with what seems rudeness to contemptible 

^All great men, then, have a conviction, really independent 
of external proof, that they have a soul. The absurd fear 
must be laid aside that the soul is a hyperempirical reality 
and that belief in it leads us to the position of the the- 
ologists. Belief in a soul is anything rather than a supersti- 
tion and is no mere handmaid of religious systems. Artists 
speak of their souls although they have not studied 
philosophy or theology ; atheists like Shelley use the ex- 
pression and know very well what they mean by it)- 

Others have suggested that the " soul " is only a beautiful 
empty word, which people ascribe to others without having 
felt its need for themselves. This is like saying that great 
artists use symbols to express the highest form of reality 
without being assured as to the existence of that reality. 
The mere empiricist and the pure physiologist no doubt 
will consider that ail this is nonsense, and that Lucretius is 
the only great poet. No doubt there has been much misuse 
of the word, but if great artists speak of their soul they 
know what they are about. Artists, like philosophers, know 
well when they approach the greatest possible reality, but 
Hume had no sense of this. 

^The scientific man ranks, as 1 have already said, and as I 
shall presently prove, below the artist and the philosopher. 
The two latter may earn the title of genius which must 
always be denied to the scientific man^ Without any good 
reason having been assigned for it, it has usually been the 
case that the voice of genius on any particular problem is 
listened to before the voice of science. Is there justice in 
this preference ? Can the genius explain things as to which 
the man of science, as such, can say nothing ? Can he 
peer into depths where the man of science is blind ? 

The conception genius concludes universality. If theie 
were an absolute genius (a convenient fiction) there would 
be nothing to which he could not have a vivid, intimate, 
and complete relation. Genius, as I have already shown, 
would have universal comprehension, and through its 


perfect memory would be independent of time. To com- 
prehend anything one must have within one something 
similar. <^A man notices, understands, and comprehends 
only those things with which he has some kinship. The 
genius is the man with the most intense, most vivid, most 
conscious, most continuous, and most individual ego. The 
ego is the central point, the unit of comprehension, the 
synthesis of all manifoldness.) 

(^he ego of the genius accordingly is simply itself universal 
comprehension, the centre of infinite space ; the great man 
contains the whole universe within himself ; genius is the 
living microcosm/ He is not an intricate mosaic, a chemical 
combination of an infinite number of elements ; the argu- 
ment m chap. iv. as to his relation to other men and 
things must not be taken in that sense ; he is everything. 
In him and through him all psychical manifestations cohere 
and are real experiences, not an elaborate piece-work, a 
whole put together from parts in the fashion of science. 
For the genius the ego is the all, lives as the all ; the genius 
sees nature and all existences as whole ; the relations of 
things flash on him intuitively ; he has not to build bridges 
of stones between them. And so the genius cannot be an 
empirical psychologist slowly collecting details and linking 
them by associations ; he cannot be a physicist, envisaging 
the world as a compound of atoms and molecules. 

L It is absolutely from his vision of the whole, in which the \ 
genius always lives, that he gets his sense of the parts. He 
values everything within him or without him by the standard 
of this vision, a vision that for him is no function of time, ; 
but a part of eternity. And so the man of genius is the 
profound man, and profound only in proportion to his \ 
genius. That is why his views are more valuable than those 
of all others. He constructs from everything his ego that 
holds the universe, whilst others never reach a full con- 
sciousness of this inner self, and so, for him, all things have 
significance, all thmgs are symbolical.) For him breathing is 
something more than the coming and going of gases 
through the walls of the capillaries ; the blue of the sky is 


more than the partial polarisation of diffused and reflected 
light ; snakes are not merely reptiles that have lost limbs. 
If it were possible for one single man to have achieved all 
the scientific discoveries that have ever been made, if every- 
thing that has been done by the following : Archimedes 
and Lagrange, Johannes Müller and Karl Ernst von Baer, 
Newton and Laplace, Konrad Sprengel and Cuvier, Thucy- 
dides and Niebuhr, Friedrich August Wolf and Franz Bopp, 
and by many more famous men of science, could have been 
achieved by one man in the short span of human life, he 
would still not be entitled to the denomination of genius, 
for none of these have pierced the depths. The scientist 
takes phenomena for what they obviously are ; the great 
man or the genius for what they signify. Sea and moun- 
tain, light and darkness, spring and autumn, cypress and 
palm, dove and swan are symbols to him, he not only thinks 
that there is, but he recognises in them something deeper. 
The ride of the Valkyrie is not produced by atmospheric 
pressure and the magic fire is not the outcome of a process 
of oxidation. 

jJ^And all this is possible for him because the outer world 
is as full and strongly connected as the inner in him, the 
external world in fact seems to be only a special aspect of 
his inner life ; the universe and the ego have become one in 
him, and he is not obliged to set his experience together 
piece by piece according to rule.^ The greatest poly- 
historian, on the contrary, does nothmg but add branch to 
branch and yet creates no completed structure. That is 
another reason why the great scientist is lower than the 
great artist, the great philosopher. The infinity of the 
universe is responded to in the genius by a true sense of 
infinity in his own breast ; he holds chaos and cosmos, all 
details and all totality, all plurality, and all singularity in him- 
self. Although these remarks apply more to genius than to 
the nature of the productions of genius, although the occur- 
ence of artistic ecstasy, philosophic conceptions, religious 
fervour remain as puzzling as ever, if merely the conditions, 
not the actual process of a really great achievement has 


been made clearer, yet this is nevertheless to be the final 
definition of genius : 

A man may be called a genius when he lives in conscious 
connection with the whole universe. It is only then that 
the genius becomes the really divine spark in mankind. 

The great idea oi the soul of man as the microcosm, the 
most important discovery of the philosophy of the 
Renaissance — although traces of the idea are to be found in 
Plato and Aristotle — appears to be quite disregarded by 
modern thinkers since the death of Leibnitz. It has hitherto 
been held as only holding good for genius, as the 
prerogative of those masters of men. 

But the incongruity is only apparent. All mankind have 
some of the quality of genius, and no man has it entirely. 
Genius is a condition to which one man draws close whilst 
another is further away, which is attained by some in early 
days, but with others only at the end of life. 

The man to whom we have accorded the possession of 
genius, is only he who has begun to see, and to open the 
eyes of others. That they then can see with their own eyes 
proves that they were only standing before the door. 

Even the ordinary man, even as such, can stand in an 
indirect relationship to everything : his idea of the " whole " 
is only a glimpse, he does not succeed in identifying himself 
with it. But he is not without the possibility of following 
this identification in another, and so attaining a composite 
image. Through some vision of the world he can bind 
himself to the universal, and by diligent cultivation he can 
make each detail a part of himself. Nothing is quite 
strange to him, and in all a band of sympathy exists between 
him and the things of the world. It is not so with plants 
or animals. They are limited, they do not know the whole, 
but only one element ; they do not populate the whole 
earth, and where they are widely dispersed it is in the 
service of man, who has allotted to them everywhere the 
same task. They may have a relation to the sun or to the 
moon, but they certainly are wanting in respect of the 
" starry vault " and " the moral law." For the latter 


originates in the soul of man, in which is hidden all 
totality, which can see everything because it is universal 
itself : the starry heavens and the moral law are fundamen- 
tally one and the same. The universalism of the categorical 
imperative is the universalism of the universe. 

The infinity of the universe is only the "thought-picture" 
of the infinity of the moral volition. 

This was taught, the microcosm in man, by Empedocles, 
that mighty magician. 

Fa/p /Jiv yap yatav OTrwTrajntv, vSari S'uow/o, 
AlBepi S'aWepa Slov, drap irvpX irvp äihrtXov, 
^Topyy ^£ (TTopyriv, vaixog Se rt i/ti^d Aoy/otj». 

And Plotinus ; 

V Xo.p av TTiiiiroTt nosv 
otpSaXfibg rjXiov riXiotiSng firj Ytyij/rjjuevo^, 

which Goethe imitated in the famous verse : 

" War' nicht das Auge sonnenhaft, 
Die Sonne könnt' es nie erblicken ; 
Lag' nicht in uns des Gottes eig'ne Kraft, 
Wie könnt uns Göttliches entzücken ? " 

Man is the only creature, he is the creature in Nature, 
that has in himself a relation to every thing. 

He to whom this relationship brings understanding and 
the most complete consciousness, not to many things or to 
few things, but to all things, the man who of his own 
individuality has thought out everything, is called a genius. 
He in whom the possibility of this is present, in whom an 
interest in everything could be aroused, yet who only, of 
his own accord, concerns himself with a few, we call merely 
a man. 

The theory of Leibnitz, which is seldom rightly understood, 
that the lower monads are a mirror of the world without 
being conscious of this capacity of theirs, expresses the same 
idea. The man of genius lives in a state of complete under- 
standing, an understanding of the whole ; the whole world 


is also in ordinary men, but not in a condition that can 
become creative. The one Hves in conscious active relation 
with the whole, the other in an unconscious relation ; the 
man of genius is the actual, the common man the potential, 
microcosm. ^J'he genius is the complete man ; the manhood 
that is latent in all men is in him fully developed. 

Man himself is the All, and so unlike a mere part, 
dependent on other parts ; he is not assigned a definite 
place in a system of natural laws, but he himself is the 
meaning of the law and is therefore free, just as the world 
whole being itself, the All does not condition itself but is 
unconditionedN The man of genius is he who forgets nothing 
because he does not forget himself, and because forgetting, 
being a functional subjection to time, is neither free nor 
ethical. He is not brought forward on the wave of a 
historical movement as its child, to be swallowed up by the 
next wave, because all, all the past and all the future is 
contained in his inward vision. He it is whose conscious- 
ness of immortality is most strong because the fear of death 
has no terror for him. He it is who lives in the most 
sympathetic relation to symbols and values because he weighs 
and interprets by these all that it is within him and ail 
that is outside him. We is the freest and the wisest and the 
most moral of men, and for these reasons he suffers most of 
all from what is still unconscious, what is chaos, what is 
fatality within him.S 

How does the morality of great men reveal itself in their 
relations to other men ? This, according to the popular 
view, is the only form which morality can assume, apart 
from contraventions of the penal code. And certainly in 
this respect, great men have displayed the most dubious 
qualities. Have they not laid themselves open to accusa- 
tions of base ingratitude, extreme harshness, and much 
worse faults ? 

It is certainly true that the greater an artist or philospher 
may be, the more ruthless he will be in keeping faith with 
himself, in this very way often disappointing the expectations 
of those with whom he comes in contact in cvery-day life ; 


these cannot follow his higher flights and so try to bind the 
eagle to earth (Goethe and Lavater) and in this way many 
great men have been branded as immoral. 

Goethe, fortunately for himself, preserved a silence about 
himself so complete that modern people who think that they 
understand him completely as the light-Hving Olympian, 
only know a few specks of him taken from his marvellous 
delineation of Faust ; we may be certain, none the less, that 
he judged himself severely, and suffered in full measure for 
the guilt he found in himself. And when an envious 
Nörgler, who never grasped Schopenhauer's doctrine of 
detachment and the meaning of his Nirwana, throws the 
reproach at the latter that he got the last value out of his 
property, such a mean yelping requires no answer. 

/The statement that a great man is most moral towards 
himself stands on sure ground ; he will not allow alien 
views to be imposed on him, so obscuring the judgment of 
his own ego ; he will not passively accept the interpretation 
of another, of an alien ego, quite different from his own, 
and if ever he has allowed himself to be influenced, the 
thought will always be painful to him. A conscious lie that he 
has told will harass him throughout his life, and he will be 
unable to shake off the memory in Dionysian fashiory ^ut 
men of genius will suffer most when they become aware 
afterwards that they have unconsciously helped to spread a 
lie in their talk or conduct with others. Other men, who do 
not possess this organic thirst for truth, are always deeply 
involved in lies and errors, and so do not understand the 
bitter revolt of great men against the " lies of life.") 

The great man, he who stands high, he in whom the 
ego, unconditioned by time, is dominant, seeks to maintain 
his own value in the presence of his intelligible ego by his 
intellectual and moral conscience. His pride is towards 
himself ; there is the desire in him to impress his own self 
by his thoughts, actions, and creations. This pride is the 
pride peculiar to genius, possessing its own standard of 
value, and it is independent of the judgment of others, 
since it possesses in itself a higher tribunal. Soft and 


ascetic natures (Pascal is an example) sometimes suffer 
from this self-pride, and yet try in vain to shake it off. 
This self-pride will always be associated with pride before 
others, but the two forms are really in perpetual conflict. 

Can it be said that this strong adaptation to duty towards 
oneself prejudices the sense of duty towards one's neigh- 
bours ? Do not the two stand as alternatives, so that he 
who always keeps faith with himself must break it with 
others ? By no means. As there is only one truth, so 
there can be only one desire for truth — what Carlyle called 
smcerity — that a man has or has not with regard both to 
himself and to the world ; (it is never one of two, a view of 
the world differing from a view of oneself, a self-study with- 
out a world-study ; there is only one duty and only one 
morality. Man acts either morally or immorally, and if 
he is moral towards himself he is moral towards other^ 

There are few regions of thought, however, so full of 
false ideas, as the conception of moral duty towards one's 
neighbours and how it is to be fulfilled. Leaving out 
of consideration, for the moment, the theoretical systems 
of morality which are based on the maintenance of 
human society, and which attach less importance to the 
concrete feelings and motives at the moment of action than 
to the effect on the general system of morality, we come 
at once to the popular idea which defines the morality of 
a man by his "goodness," the degree to which his com- 
passionate disposition is developed. From the philosophi- 
cal point of view, Hutcheson, Hume, and Smith saw in 
sympathy the nature and source of all ethical conduct, and 
this view received a very strong support from Schopen- 
hauer's sympathetic morality. Schopenhauer's *' Essay on 
the Foundations of Morality" shows in its motto "It is 
easy to preach morality, difficult to find a basis for it," the 
fundamental error of the sympathetic ethics which always 
fails to recognise that the science of ethics is not merely 
an explanation and description of conduct, but a search 
for a guide to it. Whoever will be at the pains diligently 
to listen to the inner voice of man, in order to establish 


what he ought to do, will certainly reject every system of 
ethics, the aim of which is to be a doctrine of the require- 
ments which man has invented for himself and others 
instead of being a relation of what he actually does in 
furthering these requirements or in stifling them. The 
object of all moral science is not what is happening but 
what ought to happen. 

All attempts to explain ethics by psychology overlook the 
fact that every psychic event in man is appraised by man 
himself, and the appraiser of the psychic event cannot be 
a psychic event. This standard can only be an idea, or 
a value which is never fully realised, and which cannot 
be altered by any experience because it remains constant, 
even if all experience is in opposition to it. Moral conduct 
can be only conduct controlled by an idea. And so we 
can choose only from systems of morality which set up 
some idea or maxim for the regulation of conduct, and 
there are only two to choose from, the ethical socialism or 
social ethics, founded by Bentham and Mill, but imported 
to the Continent and diligently propagated in Germany and 
Norway, and ethical individualism such as is taught by 
Christianity and German idealism. 

The second failure of all the systems of ethics founded 
on sympathy is that they attempt to find a foundation for 
morality, to explain morality, whilst the very conception of 
morality is that it should be the ultimate standard of 
human conduct, and so must be inexplicable and non- 
derivative, must be its own purpose, and cannot be brought 
into relation of cause and effect with anything outside 
itself. This attempted derivation of morality is simply 
another aspect of the purely descriptive, and therefore 
necessarily, relative, ethics, and is untenable from the 
fact that however diligently the search be made, it is 
impossible to find in the sphere of causes and effects a 
high aim that would be applicable to every moral action. 
The inspiring motive of an action cannot come from any 
nexus of cause and effect ; it is much more in the nature of 
things for cause and effect to be linked with an inspiring 


moral aim. Outside the domain of first causes there lies a 
domain of moral aims, and this latter domain is the inheri- 
tance of mankind. The complete science of existence is 
a linking together of first causes until the first cause of all 
is reached, and a complete science of " oughts " leads to 
a union of all in one great aim, the culminating moral 

He who rates sympathy as a positive moral factor has 
treated as moral something that is a feeling, not an act. 
Sympathy may be an ethical phenomenon, the expres- 
sion of something ethical, but it is no more an ethical 
act than are the senses of shame and pride ; we 
must clearly distinguish between an ethical act and an 
ethical phenomenon. Nothing must be considered an 
ethical act that is not a confirmation of the ethical idea 
by action ; ethical phenomena are unpremeditated, involun- 
tary signs of a permanent tendency of the disposition 
towards the moral idea. It is in the struggle between 
motives that the idea presses in and seeks to make the 
decision ; the empirical mixture of ethical and unethical 
feelings, sympathy and malice, self-confidence and presump- 
tion, gives no help towards a conclusion. Sympathy is, 
perhaps, the surest sign of a disposition, but it is not the 
moral purpose inspiring an action. Morality must imply 
conscious knowledge of the moral purpose and of value as 
opposed to worthlessness. Socrates was right in this, and 
Kant is the only modern philosopher who has followed 
him. Sympathy is a non-logical sensation, and has no 
claim to respect. 

The question now before us is to consider how far a man 
can act morally with regard to his fellow men. 

It is certainly not by unsolicited help which obtrudes 
itself on the solitude of another and pierces the limits that 
he has set for himself ; not by compassion but rather by 
respect. This respect we owe only to man, as Kant 
showed ; for man is the only creature in the universe who 
is a purpose to himself. 

But how can I show a man my contempt, and how 


prove to him my respect ? The first by ignoring him, the 
second by being friendly with him. 

How can I use him as a means to an end, and how can 
I honour him by regarding him himself as an end ? In the 
first case, by looking upon him as a link in the chain of 
circumstances with which I have to deal ; in the second, by 
endeavouring to understand him. It is only by interesting 
oneself in a man, without exactly telling him so, by 
thinking of him, by grasping his work, by sympathising 
with his fate, and by seeking to understand him, that one 
can respect one's neighbour. Only he who, through his 
own afflictions, has become unselfish, who forgets small 
wranglings with his fellow man, who can repress his im- 
patience, and who endeavours to understand him, is really 
disinterested with regard to his neighbour ; and he behaves 
morally because he triumphs over the strongest enemy to 
his understanding of his neighbour — selfishness. 

How does the famous man stand in this respect ? He 
who understands the most men, because he is mostuni- 
versal in disposition, and who lives in the closest relation 
to the universe at large, who most earnestly desires to 
understand its purpose, will be most likely to act well 
towards his neighbour. 

As a matter of fact, no one thinks so much or so intently 
as he about other people (even although he has only seen 
them for a moment), and no one tries so hard to understand 
them if he does not feel that he already has them within 
him in all their significance. Inasmuch as he has a con- 
tinuous past, a complete ego of his own, he can create the 
past which he did not know for others. He follows the 
strongest bent of his inner being if he thinks about them, 
for he seeks only to come to the truth about them by 
understanding them. He sees that human beings are all 
members of an intelligible world, in which there is no 
narrow egoism or altruism. This is the only explanation 
of how it is that great men stand in vital, understanding 
relationship, not only with those round about them, but 
with all the personalities of history who have preceded them ; 


this is the only reason why great artists have grasped his- 
torical personalities so much better and more intensively 
than scientific historians. There has been no great man 
who has not stood in a personal relationship to Napoleon, 
Plato, or Mahomet. It is in this way that he shows his 
respect and true reverence for those who have lived before 
him. When many of those who have been intimate with 
artists feel aggrieved when later on they recognise them- 
selves in their works ; when writers are reproached for 
treating everything as copy, it is easy enough to understand 
the feeling. But the artist or author who does not heed the 
littlenesses of mankind has committed no crime, he has 
simply employed his creative act of understanding with 
regard to them, by a single-minded representation and 
reproduction of the world around him, and there can be no 
higher relation between men than this. The following 
words of Pascal, which have already been mentioned, are 
specially applicable here : "A mesure qu'on a plus d'esprit, 
on trouve qu'il y a plus d'hommes originaux. Les gens du 
commun ne trouvent pas de difference entre les hommes." 
It follows from the foregoing that the greater a man is the 
greater efforts he will make to understand things that are 
most strange to him, whilst the ordinary man readily thinks 
that he understands a thing, although it may be something 
he does not at all understand, so that he fails to perceive the 
unfamiliar spirit which is appealing to him from some object 
of art or from a philosophy, and at most attains a super- 
ficial relation to the subject, but does not rise to the inspira- 
tion of its creator. The great man who attains to the highest 
rungs of consciousness does not easily identify himself and 
his opinion with anything he reads, whilst those with a 
lesser clarity of mind adopt, and imagine that they absorb, 
things that in reality are very different. The man of genius 
is he whose ego has acquired consciousness. He is enabled 
by it to distinguish the fact that others are different, to 
perceive the " ego " of other men, even when it is not pro- 
nounced enough for them to be conscious of it themselves. 
But it is only he who feels that every other man is also an 


ego, a monad, an individual centre of the universe, with 
specific manner of feeling and thinking and a distinct past, 
he alone is in a position to avoid making use of his neigh- 
bours as means to an end, he, according to the ethics of 
Kant, will trace, anticipate, and therefore respect the per- 
sonality in his companion (as part of the intelligible 
universe), and will not merely be scandalised by him. The 
psychological condition of all practical altruism, therefore, 
is theoretical individualism. 

Here lies the bridge between moral conduct towards 
oneself and moral conduct towards one's neighbour, the 
apparent want of which in the Kantian philosophy Schopen- 
hauer unjustly regarded as a fault, and asserted to arise 
necessarily out of Kant's first principles. ^ 

It is easy to give proofs. Only brutalised criminals and 
insane persons take absolutely no interest in their fellow 
men ; they live as if they were alone in the world, and the 
presence of strangers has no effect on them. But for him 
who possesses a self there is a self in his neighbour, and 
only the man who has lost the logical and ethical centre of 
his being behaves to a second man as if the latter were not 
a man and had no personality of his own. "I " and "thou" 
are complementary terms. A man soonest gains conscious- 
ness of himself when he is with other men. This is why a 
man is prouder in the presence of other men than when he 
is alone, whilst it is in his hours of solitude that his self- 
confidence is damped. Lastly, he who destroys himself 
destroys at the same time the whole universe, and he who 
murders another commits the greatest crime because he 
murders himself in his victim. Absolute selfishness is, in 
practice, a horror, which should rather be called nihilism ; 
if there is no " thou," there is certainly no " I," and that 
would mean there is nothing. 

There is in the psychological disposition of the man of 
genius that which makes it impossible to use other men as a 
means to an end. And this is it : he who feels his own per- 
sonality, feels it also in others. For him the Tat-tvam-asi is 
no beautiful hypothesis, but a reality. The highest indivi- 


dualism is the highest universaHsm. Ernest Mack is in great 
error when he denies the subject, and thinks it is only after 
the renunciation of the individual " I " that an ethical rela- 
tion, which excludes neglect of the strange " I " and over- 
estimation of the individual " I," may be expected. It has 
already been seen where the want of one's own I leads in 
relation to one's neighbour. The I is the fundamental 
ground of all social morality. I should never be able to 
place myself, as an actual psychological being, in an ethical 
relation to a mere bundle of elements. It is possible to 
imagine such a relationship ; but it is entirely opposed to 
practical conduct ; because it eliminates the psychological 
condition necessary for making the moral idea an actual 

We are preparing for a real ethical relation to our fellow 
men when we make them conscious that each of them 
possesses a higher self, a soul, and that they must realise 
the souls in others. 

This relation is, however, manifested in the most curious 
manner in the man of genius. No one suffers so much as 
he with the people, and, therefore, for the people, with whom 
he lives. For, in a certain sense, it is certainly only " by 
suffering " that a man knows. If compassion is not itself 
clear, abstractly conceivable or visibly symbolic knowledge, 
it is, at any rate, the strongest impulse for the acquisition of 
knowledge. It is only by suffering that the genius under- 
stands men. And the genius suffers most because he suffers 
with and in each and all ; but he suffers most through his 

Although I tried to show in an earlier chapter that genius 
is the factor which primarily elevates man above the 
animals, and in connection with that fact that it is man 
alone who has a history (this being explained by the pre- 
sence in all men of some degree of the quality of genius). 
I must return to that earlier side of my argument. Genius 
involves the living actuality of the intelligible subject. 
History manifests itself only as a social thing, as the " ob- 
jective spirit," the individuals as such playing no part in it, 


being, in fact, non-historical. Here we see the threads of 
our argument converging. If it be the case, and I do not 
think that I am wrong, that the timeless, human personality 
is the necessary condition of every real ethical relation to 
our fellow men, and if individuality is the necessary pre- 
liminary to the collective spirit, then it is clear why the 
"metaphysical animal" and the "political animal," the 
possessor of genius and the maker of history, are one 
and the same, are humanity. And the old controversy is 
settled ; which comes first, the individual or the community ? 
Both must be equal and simultaneous. 

I think that I have proved at every point that genius is 
simply the higher morality. The great man is not only the 
truest to himself, the most unforgetful, the one to whom 
errors and lies are most hateful and intolerable ; he is also 
the most social, at the same time the most self-contained, 
and the most open man. The genius is altogether a 
higher form, not merely intellectually, but also morally. 
In his own person, the genius reveals the idea of man- 
kind. He represents what man is ; he is the subject 
whose object is the whole universe which he makes endure 
,for all time. 

Let there be no mistake. Consciousness and conscious- 
ness alone is in itself moral ; all unconsciousness is immoral, 
and all immorality is unconscious. The ** immoral genius," 
the "great wicked man," is, therefore, a mythical animal, 
invented by great men in certain moments of their lives as 
a possibility, in order (very much against the will of the 
Creator) to serve as a bogey for nervous and timid natures, 
with which they frighten themselves and other children. 
No criminal who prided himself in his deed would speak 
like Hagen in the " Götterdämmerung " over Siegfried's dead 
body : " Ha, ha, I have slain him ; I, Hagen, gave him his 
death blow." 

Napoleon and Bacon, who are given as counter-instances, 
were intellectually much over-rated or wrongly represented. 
And Nietzsche is the least reliable in these matters, when he 
begins to discuss the Borgia type. The conception of the 


diabolical, of the anti-Christ, of Ahriman, of the "radical 
evil in human nature," is exceedingly powerful, yet it con- 
cerns genius only inasmuch as it is the opposite of it. It 
is a fiction, created in the hours in which great men have 
struggled against the evil in themselves. 

Universal comprehension, full consciousness, and perfect 
timelessness are an ideal condition, ideal even for gifted 
men ; genius is an innate imperative, which never becomes 
a fully accomplished fact in human beings. Hence it is 
that a man of genius will be the last man to feel himself in 
the position to say of himself: " I am a genius." Genius 
is, in its essence, nothing but the full completion of the 
idea of a man, and, therefore, every man ought to have 
some quality of it, and it should be regarded as a possible 
principle for every one. 

Genius is the highest morality, and, therefore, it is every 
one's duty. Genius is to be attained by a supreme act of 
the will, in which the whole universe is affirmed in the 
individual. Genms is something which "men of genius" 
take upon themselves ; it is the greatest exertion and the 
greatest pride, the greatest misery and the greatest ecstasy 
to a man. <^ man may become a genius if he wishes to) 

But at once it will certainly be said : " Very many men 
would like very much to be * original geniuses,' " and their 
wish has no effect. But if these men who " would like very 
much " had a livelier sense of what is signified by their 
wish, if they were aware that genius is identical with uni- 
versal responsibility — and until that is grasped it will only 
be a wish and not a determination — it is highly probable 
that a very large number of these men would cease to wish 
to become geniuses. 

The reason why madness overtakes so many men of 
genius — fools believe it comes from the influence of Venus, 
or the spinal degeneration of neurasthenics — is that for 
many the burden becomes too heavy, the task of bearing 
the whole world on the shoulders, like Atlas, intolerable 
for the smaller, but never for the really mighty minds. 
But the higher a man mounts, the greater may be his 


fall ; ^11 genius is a conquering of chaos, mystery, and 
darkness") and if it degenerates and goes to pieces, the ruin 
is greater in proportion to the success. The genius which 
runs to madness is no longer genius ; it has chosen happi- 
ness instead of morality. All madness is the outcome of 
the insupportability of suffering attached to all conscious- 
ness. Sophocles derived his idea that a man might wish to 
become mad for this reason, and lets Aias, whose mind 
finally gives way, give utterance to these words : 

ev Tto <ppovaiv \ap firidlv nBiorog ßlog. 

I shall conclude this chapter with the solemn words, 
similar to the best moments of Kant's style, of Johann Pico 
von Mirandola, to whom I may bring some measure of 
recognition. In his address ** on the dignity of man " the 
Supreme Being addresses the following words to man : 

" Nee certam sedem, nee propriam faciem, nee munus 
ullum peculiare tibi dedimus, O Adam : ut quam sedem, 
quam faciem, quae munera tute optaveris, ea pro vote, pro 
tua sententia, habeas et possideas. Definita caeteris natura 
intra praescriptas a nobis leges coercetur ; tu nuUis an- 
gustiis coercitus, pro tuo arbitrio, in cuius manu te posui, 
tibi illam praefinies. Medium te mundi posui, ut circum- 
spiceres inde commodius quicquid est in mundo. Nee te 
caelestem, neque terrenum, neque mortalem, neque im- 
mortalem fecimus, ut tui ipsius quasi arbitrarius honorari- 
usque plastes et fictor in quam malueris tute formam 
effingas. Poteris in inferiora quae sunt bruta degenerare, 
poteris in superiora quae sunt divina, ex tui animi sententia 

O summam Dei Patris liberalitatem, summam et admir- 
andam hominis felicitatem : cui datum id habere quod 
optai, id esse quod v^lit. Bruta simul atque nascuntur 
id secum afierunt e bulga matris, quod possessura sunt. 
Supremi spiritus aut ab initio aut paulo mox id fuerunt, 
quod sunt tuturi in perpetuas aeternitates. Nascenti homini 
omniferaria semina et otnnigenae vitae germina indidit Pater ; 
quae quisque excoluerit, ilia adolescent et fructus suos 


ferent in illo: si vegetalia,planta fiet, si sensualia, obbrutescet, 
si rationalia, caeleste evadet animal, si intellectualia, angelus 
erit et Dei filius. Et si nulla creaturarum, sorte contentus in 
unitatis centrum suae se receperit, unus cum Deo Spiritus f actus f 
in soUtaria Patris caligine qui est super omnia constitutus 
omnibus antestahit. 



It is now time to return to the actual subject of this inves- 
tigation in order to see how far its explanation has been 
helped by the lengthy digressions, which must often have 
seemed wide of the mark. 

The consequences of the fundamental principles that have 
been developed are of such radical importance to the psycho- 
logy of the sexes that, even if the former deductions have been 
assented to, the present conclusions may find no acceptance. 
This is not the place to analyse such a possibility ; but in 
order to protect the theory I am now going to set up, from 
all objections, I shall fully substantiate it in the fullest possible 
manner by convincing arguments. 

Shortly speaking the matter stands as follows : I have 
shown that logical and ethical phenomena come together in 
the conception of truth as the ultimate good, and posit the 
existence of an intelligible ego or a soul, as a form of being 
of the highest super-empirical reality. In such a being as 
the absolute female there are no logical and ethical pheno- 
mena, and, therefore, the ground for the assumption of a 
soul is absent. The absolute female knows neither the 
logical nor the moral imperative, and the words law and 
duty, duty towards herself, are words which are least 
familiar to her. The inference that she is wanting in super- 
sensual personality is fully justified. -The absolute female 
has no egoy 

In a certain sense this is an end of the investigation, a 
final conclusion to which all analysis of the female leads. 
And although this conclusion, put thus concisely, seems 


harsh and intolerant, paradoxical and too abrupt in its 

novelty, it must be remembered that the author is not the 

first who has taken such a view ; he is more in the position 

of one who has discovered the philosophical grounds for an 

opinion of long standing. 

^he Chinese from time immemorial have denied that 

women possess a personal soul. If a Chinaman is asked 

how many children he has, he counts only the boys, and 

will say none if he has only daughters. Mahomet excluded 

women from Paradise for the same reason, and on this 

view depends the degraded position of women in Oriental 


Amongst the philosophers, the opinions of Aristotle must 
first be considered. He held that in procreation the male 
principle was the formative active agent, the "logos," whilst 
the female was the passive material. When we remember 
that Aristotle uses the word " soul " for the active, forma- 
tive, causative principle, it is plain that his idea was akin to 
mine, although, as he actually expressed it, it related only 
to the reproductive process ; it is clear, moreover, that he, 
like all the Greek philosophers except Euripides, paid no 
heed to women, and did not consider her qualities from 
any other point of view than that of her share in repro- 

Amongst the fathers of the Church, Tertullian and Origen 
certainly had a very low opinion of woman, and St. Augus- 
tine, except for his relations with his mother, seems to have 
shared their view. At the Renaissance the Aristotelian con- 
ceptions gained many new adherents, amongst whom Jean 
Wier (1518-1588) may be cited specially. At that period 
there was a general, more sensible and intuitive under- 
standing on the subject, which is now treated as merely 
curious, contemporary science having bowed the knee to 
other than Aristotelian gods. 

In recent years Henrik Ibsen (in the characters of Anitra, 
Rita, and Irene) and August Strindberg have given utter- 
ance to this view. But the popularity of the idea of the 
souUessness of woman has been most attained by the 


wonderful fairy tales of Fouque, who obtained the material 
for them from Paracelsus, after deep study, and which have 
been set to music by E. T. A. Hoffman, Girschner, and 
Albert Lorzing. 

Undine, the soulless Undine, is the platonic idea of 
woman. In spite of all bi-sexuality she most really resembles 
the actuality. The well-known phrase, " Women have no 
character," really means the same thing. Personality and 
individuality (intelligible), ego and soul, will and (intel- 
ligible) character, all these are different expressions of the 
same actuality, an actuality the male of mankind attains, the 
female lacks. 

But since the soul of man is the microcosm, and great 
men are those who live entirely in and through their souls, 
the whole universe thus having its being in them, the female 
must be described as absolutely without the quality of 
genius. The male has everything within him, and, as Pico 
of Mirandola put it, only specialises in this or that part of 
himself. It is possible for him to attain to the loftiest 
heights, or to sink to the lowest depths ; he can become 
like animals, or plants, or even like women, and so there 
exist woman-like female men. 

The woman, on the other hand, can never become a man. 
In this consists the most important limitation to the asser- 
tions in the first part of this work. Whilst I know of many 
men who are practically completely psychically female, not 
merely half so, and have seen a considerable number of 
women with masculine traits, I have never yet seen a single 
woman who was not fundamentally female, even when this 
femaleness has been concealed by various accessories from 
the person herself, not to speak of others. One must be 
{cf. chap. i. part I.) either man or woman, however many 
peculiarities of both sexes one may have, and this " being," 
the problem of this work from the start, is determined by 
one's relation to ethics and logic ; but whilst there are 
people who are anatomically men and psychically women, 
there is no such thing as a person who is physically female 
and psychically male, notwithstanding the extreme maleness 


of their outward appearance and the unwomanliness of 
their expression. 

We may now give, with certainty, a conclusive answer to 
the question as to the giftedness of the sexes : there are 
women with undoubted traits of genius, but there is no 
female genius, and there never has been one (not even 
amongst those masculine women of history which were dealt 
with in the first part), and there never can be one. Those 
who are in favour of laxity in these matters, and are anxious 
to extend and enlarge the idea of genius in order to make it 
possible to include women, would simply by such action 
destroy the conception of genius. If it is in any way pos- 
sible to frame a definition of genius that would thoroughly 
cover the ground, I believe that my definition succeeds. 
And how, then, could a soulless being possess genius ? 
The possession of genius is identical with profundity ; and 
if any one were to try to combine woman and profundity as 
subject and predicate, he would be contradicted on all 
sides. A female genius is a contradiction in terms, for 
genius is simply mtensified, perfectly developed, universally 
conscious maleness. 

The man of genius possesses, like everything else, the 
complete female in himself ; but woman herself is only a 
part of the Universe, and the part can never be the whole ; 
femaleness can never include genius. This lack of genius 
on the part of woman is inevitable because woman is not a 
monad, and cannot reflect the Universe.* 

The proof of the soullessness of woman is closely con- 
nected with much of what was contained in the earlier 
chapters. The third chapter explained that woman has 
her experiences in the form of henids, whilst those of men 
are in an organised form, so that the consciousness of the 
female is lower in grade than that of the male. Conscious- 

* It would be a simple matter to introduce at this point a list of 
the works of the most famous women, and show by a few examples 
how little they deserve the title of genius. But it would be a weari- 
some task, and any one who would make use of such a list can 
easily procure it for himself, so that I shall not do so. 


ness, however, is psychologically a fundamental part of the 
theory of knowledge. From the point of view of the theory 
of knowledge, consciousness and the possession of a con- 
tinuous ego, of a transcendental subjective soul, are identical 
conceptions. Every ego exists only so far as it is self-con- 
scious, conscious of the contents of its own thoughts ; all 
real existence is conscious existence. I can now make an 
important addition to the theory of henids. The organised 
contents of the thoughts of the male are not merely those of 
the female articulated and formed, they are not what was 
potential in the female becoming actual ; from the very first 
there is a qualitative difference. The psychical contents of 
the male, even whilst they are still in the henid stage that 
they always try to emerge from, are already partly concep- 
tual, and it is probable that even perceptions in the male 
have a direct tendency towards conceptions. In the female, 
on the other hand, there is no trace of conception either in 
recognition or in thinking. 

^he logical axioms are the foundation of all formation of 
mental conceptions, and women are devoid of these ; the 
principle of identity is not for them an inevitable standard, 
nor do they fence off all other possibilities from their con- 
ception by using the principle of contradictories. This want 
of definiteness in the ideas of women is the source of that 
"sensitiveness" which gives the widest scope to vague asso- 
ciations and allows the most radically different things to be 
grouped together.^ And even women with the best and 
least limited memories never free themselves from this kind 
of association by feelings. For insitance, if they " feel 
reminded " by a word of some definite colour, or by a human 
being of some definite thing to eat — forms of association 
common with women — they rest content with the subjective 
association, and do not try to find out the source of the 
comparison, and if there is any relation in it to actual fact. 
The complacency and selt-satisfaction of women cor- 
responds with what has been called their intellectual 
unscrupulousness, and will be referred to again in connec- 
tion with their want of the power to form concepts. This 


subjection to waves of feeling, this want of respect for 
conceptions, tliis self-appreciation without any attempt 
to avoid shi.llo'vness, characterise as essentially female 
the changeable styles of many modern painters and 
novelists. Male thought is fundamentally different from 
female thought in its craving for definite form, and 
all art that consists of moods is essentially a formless 

The psychical contents of man's thoughts, therefore, are 
more than the explicit realisation of what women think in 
henids. Woman's thought is a sliding and gliding through 
subjects, a superficial tasting of things that a man, who 
studies the depths, would scarcely notice; it is an extravagant 
and dainty method of skimming which has no grasp of 
accuracy. (A woman's thought is superficial, and touch 
is the mosr highly developed of the female senses, the 
most notable characteristic of the woman which she can 
bring to a high state by her unaided efforts.^ Touch necessi- 
tates a limiting of the interest to superficialities, it is a vague 
effect of the whole and does not depend on definite details. 
■^Vhen a woman " understands " a man (of the possibility or 
impossibility of any real understanding I shall speak later), 
she is simply, so to speak tasting (however wanting in 
taste the comparison may be) what he has thought about 
he^ Since, on her own part, there is no sharp differentia- 
tion, it is plain that she will often think that she herself has 
been understood when there is no more present than a 
vague similarity of perceptions. The incongruity between 
the man and woman depends, in a special measure, on the 
fact that the contents of the thoughts of the man are not 
merely those of the woman in a higher state of differentia- 
tion, but that the two have totally distinct sequences of 
thought applied to the same object, conceptual thought in 
the one and indistinct sensing in the other ; and when 
what is called " understanding " in the two cases is com- 
pared, the comparison is not between a fully organised 
integrated thought and a lower stage of the same process; 
but in the understanding of man and woman there is on 


the one side a conceptual thought, on the other side an 
unconceptual " feeling," a henid. 

The unconceptual nature of the thinking of a woman is 
simply the result of her less perfect consciousness, of her 
want of an ego. It is the conception that unites the mere 
complex of perceptions into an object, and this it does 
independently of the presence of an actual perception. The 
existence of the complex of perceptions is dependent on the 
will ; the will can shut the eyes and stop the ears so that the 
person no longer sees nor hears, but may get drunk or go to 
sleep and forget. It is the conception which brings freedom 
from the eternally subjective, eternally psychological rela- 
tivity of the actual perceptions, and which creates the 
things in themselves. By its power of forming conceptions 
the intellect can spontaneously separate itself from the 
object ; conversely, it is only when there is a comprehending 
function that subject and object can be separated and so 
distinguished ; in all other cases there is only a mass of like 
and unlike images present mingling together v/ithout law 
and order. The conception creates definite realities from the 
floating images, the object from the perception, the object 
which stands like an enemy opposite the subject that the 
subject may measure its strength upon it. The conception 
is thus the creator of reality; it is the "transcendental 
object " of Kant's " Critique of Reason," but it always 
involves a transcendental "subject." 

It is impossible to say of a mere complex of perceptions 
that it is like itself ; in the moment that I have made the 
judgment of identity, the complex of perceptions has 
become a concept. And so the conception gives their 
value to all processes of verification and all syllogisms ; 
the conception makes the contents of thought free by bind- 
ing them. It gives freedom both to the subject and object ; 
for the two freedoms involve each other. All freedom is 
in reality self-binding, both in logic and in ethics. Man is 
free only when he himself is the law. And so the function 
of making concepts is the power by which man gives him- 
self dignity ; he honours himself by giving freedom to the 


objective world, by making it part of the objective body of 
knowledge to which recourse may be had when two men 
differ. The woman cannot in this way set herself over 
against realities, she and they swing together capriciously ; 
she cannot give freedom to her objects as she herself is not 

The mode in which perceptions acquire independence in 
conceptions is the means of getting free from subjectivity. 
The conception is that about which I think, write, and 
speak. And in this way there comes the belief that I can 
make judgments concerning it. Hume, Huxley, and other 
"immanent" psychologists, tried to identify the concep- 
tion with a mere generalisation, so making no distinction 
between logical and psychological thought. In doing this 
they ignored the power of making judgments. In every 
judgment there is an act of verification or of contradiction, 
an approval or rejection, and the standard for these judg- 
ments, the idea of truth, must be something external to that 
on what it is acting. If there are nothing but perceptions^ 
then all perceptions must have an equal validity, and there 
can be no standard by which to form a real world. 
Empiricism in this fashion really destroys the reality of 
experience, and what is called positivism is no more than 
nihilism. The idea of a standard of truth, the idea of 
truth, cannot lie in experience. In every judgment this 
idea of the existence of truth is implicit. The claim to 
real knowledge depends on this capacity to judge, 
involves the conception of the possibility of truth in the 

This claim to be able to reach knowledge is no more 
than to say that the subject can judge of^the object, can 
say that the object is true. The objects on which we make 
judgments are conceptions ; the conception is what we know. 
The conception places a subject and an object against one 
another, and the judgment then creates a relation between 
the two. The attainment of truth simply means that the 
subject can judge rightly of the object, and so the function 
of making judgments is what places the ego in relation to 


the all, is what makes a real unity of the ego and the all 
possible. And thus we reach an answer to the old problem 
as to whether conception or judgment has precedence ; the 
answer is that the two are necessary to one another. The 
faculty of making conceptions cleaves subject and object 
and unites them again. 

A being like the female, without the power of making con- 
cepts,is unable to make judgments. In her "mind" subjective 
and objective are not separated; there is no possibility of 
making judgments, and no possibility of reaching, or of 
desiring, truth. No woman is really interested in science ; 
she may deceive herself and many good men, but bad 
psychologists, by thinking so. It may be taken as certain, 
that whenever a woman has done something of any little 
importance in the scientific world (Sophie Germain, Mary 
Somerville, &c.) it is always because of some man in the 
background whom they desire to please in this way ; and 
it is more often justifiable to say "cherchez I'homme" 
where women are concerned than " cherchez la femme " in 
the case of men. 

But there have never been any great discoveries in the 
world of science made by women, because the facility for 
truth only proceeds from a desire for truth, and the former 
is always in proportion to the latter. Woman's sense of 
reality is much less than man's, in spite of much repetition 
of the contrary opinion, i^ith women the pursuit of know- 
ledge is always subordinated to something else, and if this 
alien impulse is sufficiently strong they can see sharply and 
unerringly, but woman will never be able to see the value 
of truth in itself and in relation to her own self. Where 
there is some check to what she wishes (perhaps uncon- 
sciously) a woman becomes quite uncritical and loses all 
touch with realityj^ This is why women so often believe 
themselves to have been the victims of sexual overtures ; 
this is the reason of extreme frequency of hallucinations 
of the sense of touch in women, of the intensive reality of 
which it is almost impossible for a man to form an idea. 
This also is why the imagination of women is composed of 


lies and errors, whilst the imagination of the philosopher is 
the highest form of truth. 

The idea of truth is the foundation of everything that 
deserves the name of judgment. Knowledge is simply the 
making of judgments, and thought itself is simply another 
name for judgment. Deduction is the necessary process in 
making judgments, and involves the propositions of identity 
and of contradictories, and, as I have shown, these propo- 
sitions are not axiomatic for women. 
/A psychological proof that the power of making judg- 
ments is a masculine trait lies in the fact that the woman 
recognises it as such, and that it acts on her as a tertiary 
sexual character of the male. A woman always expects 
definite convictions in a man, and appropriates them ; she 
has no understanding of indecision in a man. She always 
expects a man to talk, and a man's speech is to her a sign of 
his manliness. It is true that woman has the gift of speech, 
but she has not the art of talking ; she converses (flirts) or 
chatters, but she does not talk. She is most dangerous, 
however, when she is dumb, for men are only too inclined 
to take her quiescence for silencd> 

The absolute female, then, is devoid not only of the 
logical rules, but of the functions of making concepts and 
judgments which depend on them. As the very nature of 
the conceptual faculty consists in posing subject against 
object, and as the subject takes its deepest and fullest mean- 
ing from its power of forming judgments on its objects, it is 
clear that women cannot be recognised as possessing even 
the subject. 

I must add to the exposition of the non-logical nature ot 
the female some statements as to her non-moral nature. 
The profound falseness of woman, the result of the want in 
her of a permanent relation to the idea of truth or to the idea 
of value, would prove a subject of discussion so exhaustive 
that I must go to work another way. There are such 
endless imitations of ethics, such confusing copies of morality, 
that women are often said to be on a moral plane higher 
than that of man. I have already pointed out the need to 


distinguish between the non-moral and the immoral, and 1 
now repeat that with regard to women we can talk only of 
the non-moral, of the complete absence of a moral sense. 
It is a well-known fact of criminal statistics and of daily life 
that there are very few female criminals. The apologists of 
the morality of women always point to this fact. 

But in deciding the question as to the morality of women 
we have to consider not if a particular person has objectively 
sinned against the idea, but if the person has or has not a 
subjective centre of being that can enter into a relation with 
the idea, a relation the value of which is lowered when a 
sin is committed. No doubt the male criminal inherits his 
criminal instincts, but none the less he is conscious — in 
spite of theories of " moral insanity " — that by his action he 
has lowered the value of his claim on life. All criminals 
are cowardly in this matter, and there is none of them that 
thinks he has raised his value and his self-consciousness by 
his crime, or that would try to justify it to himself. 

The male criminal has from birth a relation to the idea 
of value just like any other man, but the criminal impulse, 
when it succeeds in dominating him, destroys this almost 
completely. Woman, on the contrary, often believes her- 
self to have acted justly when, as a matter of fact, she has 
just done the greatest possible act of meanness ; whilst the 
true criminal remains mute before reproach, a woman can 
at once give indignant expression to her astonishment and 
anger that any one should question her perfect right to act 
in this or that way. l^omen are convinced of their own 
integrity without ever having sat in judgment on it,' The 
criminal does not, it is true, reflect on himself, but he never 
urges his own integrity ; he is much more inclined to get 
rid of the thought of his integrity,* because it might remind 
him of his guilt : and in this is the proof that he had a 

* A male criminal even feels guilty when he has not actually 
done wrong. He can always accept the reproaches of others as to 
deception, thieving, and so on, even if he has never committed such 
acts, because he knows he is capable of them. So also he always 
feels himself " caught " when any other offender is arrested. 


relation to the idea (of truth), and only objects to be re- 
minded of his unfaithfulness to his better self. No male 
criminal has ever believed that his punishment was unjust. 
A woman, on the contrary, is convinced of the animosity of 
her accuser, and if she does not wish to be convinced of it, 
no one can persuade her that she has done wrong. 

If any one talks to her it usually happens that she bursts 
into tears, Jbegs for pardon, and " confesses her fault," and 
may really believe that she feels her guilt; but only when she 
desires to do so, and the outbreak of tears has given her a 
certain sort of satisfaction. The male criminal is callous ; 
he does not spin round in a trice, as a woman would do in 
a similar instance if her accuser knew how to handle her 

The personal torture which arises from guilt, which cries 
aloud in its anguish at having brought such a stain upon 
herself, no woman knows, and an apparent exception (the 
penitent, who becomes a self-mortifying devotee,) will cer- 
tainly prove that a woman only feels a vicarious guilt. 

I am not arguing that woman is evil and anti-moral ; I 
state that she cannot be really evil ; she is merely non-moral. 

Womanly compassion and female modesty are the two 
other phenomena which are generally urged by the defenders 
of female virtue. It is especially from womanly kindness, 
womanly sympathy, that the beautiful descriptions of the 
soul of woman have gained most support, and the final 
argument of all belief in the superior morality of woman is 
the conception of her as the hospital nurse, the tender 
sister. I am sorry to have to mention this point, and should 
not have done so, but I have been forced to do so by a 
verbal objection made to me, which can be easily foreseen. 

It is very shortsighted of any one to consider the nurse 
as a proof of the sympathy of women, because it really 
implies the opposite. For a man could never stand the 
sight of the sufferings of the sick ; he would suffer so 
intensely that he would be completely upset and incapable 
of lengthy attendance on them. Any one who has watched 
nursing sisters is astounded at their equanimity and " sweet- 


ness " even in the presence of most terrible death throes ; 
and it is well that it is so, for man, who cannot stand suffer- 
ing and death, would make a very bad nurse. A man would 
want to assuage the pain and ward off death ; in a word, he 
would want to help; where there is nothing to be done he is 
better away; it is only then that nursing is justified and that 
woman offers herself for it. But it would be quite wrong 
to regard this capacity of women in an ethical aspect. 

olere it may be said that for woman the problem of soli- 
tude and society does not exist. She is well adapted for 
social relations (as, for instance, those of a companion or 
sick-nurse), simply because for her there is no transition 
from solitude to society. In the case of a man, the choice 
between solitude and society is serious when it has to be 
made^ The woman gives up no solitude when she nurses 
the sick, as she would have to do were she to deserve moral 
credit for her action ; ^ woman is never in a condition of 
solitude, and knows neither the love of it nor the fear of it. 
The woman is always living in a condition of fusion with all 
the human beings she knows, even when she is alone ; she 
is not a " monad," for all monads are sharply marked off 
from other existences^ Women have no definite individual 
limits ; they are not unlimited in the sense that geniuses 
have no limits, being one with the whole world ; they are 
unlimited only in the sense that they are not marked off 
from the common stock of mankind. 

This sense of continuity with the rest of mankind is a 
sexual character of the female, and displays itself in the 
desire to touch, to be in contact with, the object of her 
pity ; the mode in which her tenderness expresses itself is 
a kind of animal sense of contact. It shows the absence of 
the sharp line that separates one real personalty from 
another. The woman does not respect the sorrow of her 
neighbour by silence ; she tries to raise him from his grief 
by speech, feeling that she must be in physical, rather than 
spiritual, contact with hini> 

This diffused life, one of the most fundamental qualities 
of the female nature, is the cause of the impressibility of all 


women, their unreserved and shameless readiness to shed 
tears on the most ordinary occasion. It is not without 
reason that we associate wailing with women, and think 
little of a man who sheds tears in public. A woman weeps 
v/ith those that weep and laughs with those that laugh — 
unless she herself is the cause of the laughter — so that the 
greater part of female sympathy is ready-made. 

tit is only women who demand pity from other people, 
who weep before them and claim their sympathy. This is 
one of the strongest pieces of eLvidence for the psychical 
shamelessness of women.) A woman provokes the compas- 
sion of strangers in order to weep with them and be able to 
pity herself more than she already does. It is not too much 
to say that even when a woman weeps alone she is weeping 
with those that she knows would pity her and so intensify- 
ing her self-pity by the thought of the pity of others. (Self- 
pity is eminently a female characteristic ; a woman will 
associate herself with others, make herself the object of 
pity for these others, and then at once, deeply stirred, 
begin to weep with them about herself, the poor thing. 
Perhaps nothing so stirs the feeling of shame in a man 
as to detect in himself the impulse towards this self- 
pity, this state of mind in which the subject becomes the 

As Schopenhauer put it, female sympathy is a matter of 
sobbing and wailing on the slightest provocation, without 
the smallest attempt to control the emotion ;/on the other 
hand, all true sorrow, like true sympathy, just because it is 
real sorrow, must be reserved ; no sorrow can really be so 
reserved as sympathy and love, for these make us most 
fully conscious of the limits of each personality.) Love 
and its bashfulness will be considered later on ; in the 
meantime let us be assured that in sympathy, in genuine 
masculine sympathy, there is always a strong feeling of 
reserve, a sense almost of guilt, because one's friend is 
worse off than oneself, because I am not he, but a being 
separated from his being by extraneous circumstances. A 
man's sympathy is the principle of individuality blushing for 


itself ; and hence man's sympathy is reserved whilst that 
of woman is aggressive. 

The existence of modesty in women has been discussed 
already to a certain extent ; I shall have more to say about 
it in relation with hysteria. But it is difficult to see how it 
can be maintained that this is a female virtue, if one reflect 
on the readiness with which women accept the habit of 
wearing low-necked dresses wherever custom prescribes it. 
A person is either modest or immodest, and modesty is not 
a quality which can be assumed or discarded from hour to 

Strong evidence of the want of modesty in woman is to 
be derived from the fact that women dress and undress in 
the presence of one another with the greatest freedom, 
whilst men try to avoid similar circumstances. Moreover, 
when women are alone together, they are very ready to 
discuss their physical qualities, especially with regard to 
their attractiveness for men ; whilst men, practically with- 
out exception, avoid all notice of one another's sexual 

I shall return to this subject again. In the meantime I 
wish to refer to the argument of the second chapter in this 
connection. One must be fully conscious of a thing before 
one can have a feeling of shame about it, and so differentia- 
tion is as necessary for the sense of shame as for conscious- 
ness. The female, who is only sexual, can appear to be 
asexual because she is sexuality itself, and so her sexuality 
does not stand out separately from the rest of her being, 
either in space or in time, as in the case of the male. 
Woman can give an impression of being modest because 
there is nothing in her to contrast with her sexuality. And 
so the woman is always naked or never naked — we may 
express it either way — never naked, because the true feeling 
of nakedness is impossible to her ; always naked, because 
there is not in her the material for the sense of relativity by 
which she could become aware of her nakedness and so 
make possible the desire to cover it. 

^What I have been discussing depends on the actual 


meaning of the word " ego " to a woman. If a woman 
were asked what she meant by her " ego " she would cer- 
tainly think of her body. Her superficies, that is the 
woman's ego. The ego of the female is quite correctly 
described by Mach in his " Anti-metaphysical Remarks." 

The ego of a woman is the cause of the vanity which is 
specific of women. The analogue of this in the male is an 
emanation of the set of his will towards his conception of 
the good, and its objective expression is a sensitiveness, a 
desire that no one shall call in question the possibility of 
attaining this supreme good. It is his personality that 
gives to man his value and his freedom from the conditions 
of time. This supreme good, which is beyond price, because, 
in the words of Kant, there can be found no equivalent for 
it, is the dignity of man. Women, in spite of what Schiller 
has said, have no dignity, and the word " lady " was 
invented to supply this defect,^nd her pride will find its 
expression in what she regards as the supreme good, that is 
to say, in the preservation, improvement, and display of her 
personal beautyi The pride of the female is something 
quite peculiar to herself, something foreign even to the 
most handsome man, an obsession by her own body ; a 
pleasure which displays itself, even in the least handsome 
girl, by admiring herself in the mirror, by stroking herself 
and playing with her own hair, but which comes to its fu^ll 
measure only in the effect that her body has on man. \A 
woman has no true solitude, because she is always conscious 
of herself only in relation to others. The other side of the 
vanity of women is the desire to feel that her body is 
admired, or, rather, sexually coveted, by a man.y 

This desire is so strong that the're are many women to 
whom it is sufficient merely to know that they are coveted. 

The vanity of women is, then, always in relation to others ; 
a woman lives only in the thoughts of others about her. 
The sensibility of women is directed to this. A woman 
never forgets that some one thought her ugly ; a woman 
never considers herself ugly ; the successes of others at the 
most only make her think of herself as perhaps less attrac- 


tive. But no woman ever believes herself to be anything 
but beautiful and desirable when she looks at herself in the 
glass ; she never accepts her own ugliness as a painful 
reality as a man would, and never ceases to try to persuade 
others of the contrary. 

What is the source of this form of vanity, peculiar to the 
female ? It comes from the absence of an intelligible ego, 
the only begetter of a constant and positive sense of value ; 
it is, in fact, that she is devoid of a sense of personal value. 
^s she sets no store by herself or on herself, she endeavours 
to attain to a value in the eyes of others by exciting their 
desire and admiratioru The only thing which has any 
absolute and ultimate value in the world is the soul. " Ye 
are better than many sparrows " were Christ's words to 
mankind. •(A woman does not value herself by the constancy 
and freedom of her personality; but this is the only possible 
method for every creature possessing an ego. But if a real 
woman, and this is certainly the case, can only value herself 
at the rate of the man who has fixed his choice on her ; if it 
is only through her husband or lover that she can attain to 
a value not only in social and material things, but also in 
her innermost nature, it follows that she possesses no per- 
sonal value, she is devoid of man's sense of the value of 
his own personality for itself. And so women always get 
their sense of value from something outside themselves, 
from their money or estates, the number and richness of 
their garments, the position of their box at the opera, their 
children, and, above all, their husbands or lovers. When a 
woman is quarrelling with another woman, her final weapon, 
and the weapon she finds most effective and discomfiting, is 
to proclaim her superior social position, her wealth or title, 
and, above all, her youthfulness and the devotion of her 
husband or lover ; whereas a man in similar case would lay 
himself open to contempt if he relied on anything except 
his own personal individuality^ 

The absence of the soul in woman may also be mrerred 
from the following : ^Whilst a woman is stimulated to try to 
impress a man from the mere fact that he has paid no 


attention to her (Goethe gave this as a practical receipt), the 
whole life of a woman, in fact, being an expression of this 
side of her nature, a man, if a woman treats him rudely or 
indifferently, feels repelled by her. Nothing makes a man 
so happy as the love of a girl ; even if he did not at first 
return her love, there is a great probability of love being 
aroused in him. The love of a man for whom she does not 
care is only a gratification of the vanity of a woman, or an 
awakening and rousing of slumbering desires. A woman 
extends her claims equally to all men on earth.> 

The shamelessness and heartlessness of women are shown 
in the way in which they talk of being loved. A man feels 
ashamed of being loved, because he is always in the position 
of being the active, free agent, and because he knows that 
he can never give himself entirely to love, and there is 
nothing about which he is so silent, even when there is no 
special reason for him to fear that he might compromise 
the lady by talking. A woman boasts about her love affairs, 
and parades them before other women in order to make 
them envious of her. Woman does not look upon a man's 
inclination for her so much as a tribute to her actual worth, 
or a deep insight into her nature, as the bestowing a value 
on her which she otherwise would not have, as the gift to 
her of an existence and essence with which she justifies 
herself before others. 

The remark in an earlier chapter about the unfailing 
memory of woman for all the compliments she has ever 
received since childhood is explained by the foregoing facts. 
^t is from compliments, first of all, that woman gets a sense 
of her "value," and that is why women expect men to be 
" polite." Politeness is the easiest form of pleasing a woman, 
and however little it costs a man it is dear to a woman, 
who never forgets an attention, and lives upon the most 
insipid flattery, even in her old age.' One only remembers 
what possesses a value in one's eyes ; it may safely be said 
that it is for compliments women have the most developed 
memory. The woman can attain a sense of value by these 
external aids, because she does not possess within her an 


inner standard of value which diminishes everything outside 
her. ^he phenomena of courtesy and chivalry are simply 
additional proofs that women have no souls, and that when 
a man is being " polite " to a woman he is simply ascribing 
to her the minimum sense of personal value, a form of 
deference to which importance is attached precisely in the 
measure that it is misunderstood.N 

The non-moral nature of woman reveals itself in the mode 
in which she can so easily forget an immoral action she has 
committed. It is almost characteristic of a woman that she 
cannot believe that she has done wrong, and so is able to 
deceive both herself and her husband. Men, on the other 
hand, remember nothing so well as the guilty episodes of 
their lives. Here memory reveals itself as eminently a 
moral phenomenon. Forgiving and forgetting, not forgiving 
and understanding, go together. When one remembers a 
lie, one reproaches oneself afresh about it. A woman 
forgets, because she does not blame herself for an act of 
meanness, because she does not understand it, having no 
relation to the moral idea. It is not surprismg that she is 
ready to lie. Women have been regarded as virtuous, 
simply because the problem of morality has not presented 
itself to them ; they have been held to be even more moral 
than man ; this is simply because they do not understand 
immorality. The innocence of a child is not meritorious ; 
if a patriarch could be innocent he might be praised for it. 

Introspection is an attribute confined to males, if we leave 
out of account the hysterical self-reproaches of certain 
women — and consciousness of guilt and repentance are 
equally male. The penances that women lay on themselves, 
remarkable imitations of the sense of guilt, will be discussed 
when I come to deal with what passes for introspection in 
the female sex. The " subject " of introspection is the moral 
agent ; it has a relation to psychical phenomena only in so 
far as it sits in judgment on them. 

It is quite in the nature of positivism that Comte denies 
the possibility of introspection, and throws ridicule on 
it. For certainly it is absurd that a psychical event and a 


judgment of it could coincide if the interpretations of the 
positivists be accepted. It is only on the assumption that 
there exists an ego unconditioned by time and intrinsically 
capable of moral judgments, endowed with memory and 
with the power of making comparisons, that we can justify 
the belief in the possibility of introspection. 

If woman had a sense of her personal value and the will 
to defend it against all external attacks she could not be 
jealous. Apparently all women are jealous, and jealousy 
depends on the failure to recognise the rights of others. 
Even the jealousy of a mother when she sees another 
woman's daughters married before her own depends simply 
on her want of the sense of justice. 

Without justice there can be no society, so that jealousy 
is an absolutely unsocial quality. The formation of societies 
in reality presupposes the existence of true individuality. 
Woman has no faculty for the affairs of State or politics, as 
she has no social inclinations ; and women's societies, from 
which men are excluded, are certain to break up after a 
short time. The family itself is not really a social structure ; 
it is essentially unsocial, and men who give up their clubs 
and societies after marriage soon rejoin them. I had 
written this before the appearance of Heinrich Schurtz' 
valuable ethnological work, in which he shows that asso- 
ciations of men, and not the family, form the beginnings of 

'^Pascal made the wonderful remark that human beings 
seek society only because they cannot bear solitude and 
wish to forget themselves./ It is the fact expressed in these 
words which puts in harmony my earlier statement that 
women had not the faculty of solitude and my present 
statement that she is essentially unsociable. 

If a woman possessed an "ego" she would have the 
sense of property both in her own case and that of others. 
The thieving instinct, however, is much more developed in 
men than in women. So-called " kleptomaniacs " (those 
who steal without necessity) are almost exclusively women. 
Women understand power and riches but not personal 


property. When the thefts of female kleptomaniacs are 
discovered, the women defend themselves by saying that it 
appeared to them as if everything belonged to them. It is 
chiefly women who use circulating libraries, especially those 
who could quite well afford to buy quantities of books ; but, 
as matter of fact, they are not more strongly attracted by 
what they have bought than by what they have borrowed. 
In all these matters the relation between individuality and 
society comes into view ; just as a man must have per- 
sonality himself to appreciate the personalities of others, so 
also he must acquire a sense of personal right in his own 
property to respect the rights of others. 

One's name and a strong devotion to it are even more 
dependent on personality than is the sense of property. 
The facts that confront us with reference to this are so 
salient that it is extraordinary to find so little notice taken 
of them. Women are not bound to their names with any 
strong bond. When they marry they give up their own 
name and assume that of their husband without any sense 
of loss. They allow their husbands and lovers to call them 
by new names, delighting in them ; and even when a 
woman marries a man that she does not love, she has never 
been known to suffer any psychical shock at the change of 
name. The name is a symbol of individualty ; it is only 
amongst the lowest races on the face of the earth, such as 
the bushmen of South Africa, that there are no personal 
names, because amongst such as these the desire for distin- 
guishing individuals from the general stock is not felt. The 
fundamental namelessness of the woman is simply a sign of 
her undifferentiated personality. 

An important observation may be mentioned here and 
may be confirmed by every one. Whenever a man enters 
a place where a woman is, and she observes him, or hears 
his step, or even only guesses he is near, she becomes 
another person. Her expression and her pose change with 
incredible swiftness; she "arranges her fringe" and her 
bodice, and rises, or pretends to be engrossed in her work. 
She is full of a half shameless, half-nervous expectation. 


In many cases one is only in doubt as to whether she is 
blushing for her shameless laugh, or laughing over her 
shameless blushing. 

\rhe soul, personality, character — as Schopenhauer with 
marvellous sight recognised — are identical with free-will. 
And as the female has no ego, she has no free-will. Only 
a creature with no will of its own, no character in the 
highest sense, could be so easily influenced by the mere 
proximity to a man as woman is, who remains in functional 
dependence on him instead of in free relationship to him\ 
Woman is the best medium, the male her best hypnotiser. 
For this reason alone it is inconceivable why women can 
be considered good as doctors ; for many doctors admit 
that their principal work up to the present — and it will 
always be the same — lies in the suggestive influence on 
their patients. 

The female is uniformly more easily hypnotised than the 
male throughout the animal world, and it may be seen from 
the following how closely hypnotic phenomena are related 
to the most ordinary events. I have already described, in 
discussing female sympathy, how easy it is for laughter or 
tears to be induced in females. How impressed she is by 
everything in the newspapers ! What a martyr she is to the 
siUiest superstitions ! How eagerly she tries every remedy 
recommended by her friends ! 

Whoever is lacking in character is lacking in convictions. 
The female, therefore, is credulous, uncritical, and quite un- 
able to understand Protestantism. Christians are Catholics 
or Protestants before they are baptized, but, none the less, 
it would be unfair to describe Catholicism as feminine 
simply because it suits women better. The distinction 
between the Catholic and Protestant dispositions is a side 
of characterology that would require separate treatment. 

It has been exhaustively proved that the female is soulless 
and possesses neither ego nor individuality, personality nor 
freedom, character nor will. This conclusion is of the 
highest significance in psychology. It implies that the 
psychology of the male and of the female must be treated 


separately. A purely empirical representation of the psychic 
life of the female is possible ; in the case of the male, all the 
psychic life must be considered with reference to the ego, 
as Kant foresaw. 

The view of Hume (and Mach), which only admits that 
there are " impressions " and " thoughts " (ABC and 
a ß y . . .), and which has almost driven the psyche out of 
present day psychology, declares that the whole world is 
to be considered exclusively as a picture in a reflector, a 
sort of kaleidoscope ; it merely reduces everything to a 
dance of the " elements," without thought or order ; it denies 
the possibility of obtaining a secure standpoint for thought ; 
it not only destroys the idea of truth, and accordingly of 
reality, the only claims on which philosophy rests, but 
it also is to blame for the wretched plight of modern 

This modern psychology proudly styles itself the " psy- 
chology without the soul," in imitation of its much over- 
rated founder, Friedrich Albert Lange. I think I have 
proved in this work that without the acknowledgment of a 
soul there would be no way of dealing with psychic pheno- 
mena ; just as much in the case of the male who has a soul 
as in the case of the female who is soulless. 

Modern psychology is eminently womanish, and that is 
why this comparative investigation of the sexes is so specially 
instructive, and it is not without reason that I have delayed 
pointing out this radical difference ; it is only now that it 
can be seen what the acceptation of the ego implies, and 
how the confusing of masculine and feminine spiritual life 
(in the broadest and deepest sense) has been at the root of 
all the difficulties and errors into which those who have 
sought to establish a universal psychology have fallen. 

I must now raise the question — is a psychology of the 
male possible as a science ? The answer must be that it is 
not possible. I must be understood to reject all the investi- 
gations of the experimenters, and those who z^e still sick 
with the experimental fever may ask in wonder if all these 
have no value ? Experimental psychology has not given a 


single explanation as to the deeper laws of masculine life ; 
it can be regarded only as a series of sporadic empirical 
efforts, and its method is wrong inasmuch as it seeks to 
reach the kernel of things by surface examination, and as 
it cannot possibly give an explanation of the deep-seated 
source of all psychical phenomena. When it has attempted 
to discover the real nature of psychical phenomena by 
measurements of the physical phenomema that accompany 
them, it has succeeded in showing that even in the most 
favourable cases there is an inconstancy and variation.-^The 
fundamental possibility of reaching the mathematical idea of 
knowledge is that the data should be constant. As the mind 
itself is the creator of time and space, it is impossible to 
expect that geometry and arithmetic should explain the 
mind, that the creature should explain the creator^ 

There can be no scientific psychology of man, for the aim 
of psychology is to derive what is not derivative, to prove to 
every man what his real nature and essence are, to deduce 
these. But the possibility of deducing them would imply 
that they were not free. As soon as it has been admitted 
that the conduct, action, nature, of an individual man can 
be determined scientifically, it will be proved that man has 
no free-will. Kant and Schopenhauer understood this fully, 
and, on the other hand, Hume and Herbart, the founders of 
modern psychology, did not believe in free-will. It is this 
dilemma that is the cause of the pitiful relation of modern 
psychology to all fundamental questions. The wild and 
repeated efforts to derive the will from psychological factors, 
from perception and feeling, are in themselves evidence that it 
cannot be taken as an empirical factor. The will, like the 
power of judgment, is associated inevitably with the existence 
of an ego, or soul. It is not a matter of experience, it tran- 
scends experience, and until psychology recognises this extra- 
neous factor, it will remain no more than a methodical annex 
of physiology and biology. If the soul is only a complex 
of experiences it cannot be the factor that makes experiences 
possible. Modern psychology in reality denies the existence 
of the soul, but the soul rejects modern psychology. 



^fhis work has decided in favour of the soul against the 
absurd and pitiable psychology without a soul. In fact, it 
may be doubted if, on the assumption that the soul exists 
and has free thought and free-will, there can be a science 
of causal laws and self-imposed rules of willing and thinking. 
I have no intention of trying to inaugurate a new era of 
rational psychology. I wish to follow Kant in positing the 
existence of a soul as the unifying and central conception, 
without which any explanation or description of psychic 
life, however faithful in its details, however sympathetically 
undertaken, must be wholly unsatisfying.). It is extraordinary 
how inquirers who have made no attehipt to analyse such 
phenomena as shame and the sense of guilt, faith and hope, 
fear and repentance, love and hate, yearning and solitude, 
vanity and sensitiveness, ambition and the desire for immor- 
tality, have yet the courage simply to deny the ego because 
it does not flaunt itself like the colour of an orange or the 
taste of a peach. How can Mach and Hume account for 
such a thing as style, if individuality does not exist ? Or 
again, consider this : no animal is made afraid by seeing its 
reflection in a glass, whilst there is no man who could spend 
his life in a room surrounded with mirrors. Can this fear, 
the fear of the doppelganger,* be explained on Darwinian 
principles. The word doppelganger has only to be men- 
tioned to raise a deep dread in the mind of any man. Em- 
pirical psychology cannot explain this ; it reaches the depths. 
It cannot be explained, as Mach would explain the fear of 
little children, as an inheritance from some primitive, less 
secure stage of society. I have taken this example only to 
remind the empirical psychologists that there are many 
things inexplicable on their hypotheses. 

Why is any man annoyed when he is described as a 
Wagnerite, a Nietzchite, a Herbartian, or so forth ? He 
objects to be thought a mere echo. Even Ernst Mach is 
angry in anticipation at the thought that some friend will 

* It is notable that women are devoid of this fear ; female dop- 
pelgangers are not heard of. 


describe him as a Positivist, Idealist, or any other non- 
individual term. This feeling must not be confused with 
the results of the fact that a man may describe himself as a 
Wagnerite, and so forth. The latter is simply a deep ap- 
proval of Wagnerism, because the approver is himself a 
Wagnerite. The man is conscious that his agreement is in 
reality a raising of the value of Wagnerism. And so also a 
man will say much about himself that he would not permit 
another to say of hun. As Cyrano de Bergerac put it : 

" Je me les sers moi-meme, avec assez de verve, 
Mais je ne permets pas qu'un autre me les serve." 

It cannot be right to consider such men as Pascal and 
Newton, on the one hand, as men of the highest genius, on 
the other, as limited by a mass of prejudices which we of 
the present generation have long overcome. Is the present 
generation with its electrical railways and empirical psy- 
chology so much higher than these earlier times ? Is culture, 
if culture has any real value, to be compared with science, 
which is always social and never individual, and to be 
measured by the number of public libraries and laboratories ? 
Is culture outside human beings and not always in human 
beings ? 

It is in striking harmony with the ascription to men alone 
of an ineffable, inexplicable personality, that in all the 
authenticated cases of double or multiple personality the 
subjects have been women. The absolute female is capable 
of sub-division ; the male, even to the most complete char- 
acterology and the most acute experiment, is always an 
indivisible unit. The male has a central nucleus of his 
being which has no parts, and cannot be divided ; the 
female is composite, and so can be dissociated and cleft. 

And so it is most amusing to hear writers talking of the 
soul of the woman, of her heart and its mysteries, of the 
psyche of the modern woman. It seems almost as if even 
an accoucheur would have to prove his capacity by the 
strength of his belief in the soul of women. Most women, 
at least, delight to hear discussions on their souls, although 


they know, so far as they can be said to know anything, that 
the whole thing is a swindle. The woman as the Sphinx 1 
Never was a more ridiculous, a more audacious fraud per- 
petrated. Man is infinitely more mysterious, incomparably 
more complicated. 

If is only necessary to look at the faces of women one 
passes in the streets. There is scarcely one whose expres- 
sion could not at once be summed up. The register of 
woman's feelings and disposition is so terribly poor, 
whereas men's countenances can scarcely be read after long 
and earnest scrutiny. 

Finally, I come to the question as to whether there exists 
a complete parallelism or a condition of reciprocal inter- 
action between mind and body. In the case of the female, 
psycho-physical parallelism exists in the form of a complete 
co-ordination between the mental and the physical ; in 
women the capacity for mental exertion ceases with senile 
involution, just as it developed in connection with and in 
subservience to the sexual instincts. The intelligence of 
man never grows as old as that of the woman, and it is 
only in isolated cases that degeneration of the mind is 
linked with degeneration of the body. Least of all does 
mental degeneration accompany the bodily weakness of old 
age in those who have genius, the highest development of 
mental masculinity. 

It is only to be expected that the philosophers who most 
strongly argued in favour of parallelism, such as Spinoza 
and Fechner, were also determinists. In the case of the 
male, the free intelligible agent who by his own will can 
distinguish between good and evil, the existence of parallelism 
between mind and body must be rejected. 

The question, then, as to the proper view of the psy- 
chology of the sexes may be taken as settled. There has to 
be faced, however, an extraordinarily difficult problem that, 
so far as I know, has not even been stated yet, but the 
answer to which, none the less, strongly supports my view 
of the soullessness of women. 

In the earlier pages of my volume I corrtrasted the clarity 


if-^ale thinking processes with their vagueness in woman, 
nd later on showed that the power of orderly speech, in 
/hich logical judgments are expressed, acts on women as a 
'iiale sexual character. Whatever is sexually attractive to 
he female must be characteristic of the male. Firmness in 
■ man's character makes a sexual impression on a woman, 
/hilst she is repelled by the pliant man. People often 
peak of the moral influence exerted on men by women, 
when no more is meant than that women are striving to 
attain their sexual complements. Women demand manli- 
ness from men, and feel deeply disappointed and full of 
ontempt if men fail them in this respect. However un- 
•Tuthful or great a flirt a woman may be, she is bitterly 
indignant if she discover traces of coquetry or untruthful- 
aess in a man. She may be as cowardly as she likes, but 
I he man must be brave. It has been almost completely 
)verlooked that this is only a sexual egotism seeking to 
ecure the most satisfactory sexual complement.^ From the 
ide of empirical observation, no stronger proof of the soul- 
essness of woman could be drawn than that she demands a 
ioul in man, that she who is not good in herself demands 
goodness from him. The soul is a masculine character, 
oleasing to women in the same way and for the same pur- 
pose as a masculine body or a well-trimmed moustache. I 
nay be accused of stating the case coarsely, but it is none 
he less true. <It is the man's will that in the last resort 
nfluences a woman most powerfully, and she has a strong 
raculty for perceiving whether a man's " I will " means mere 
bombast or actual decision. In the latter case the effect on 
her is prodigious^ 

How is it that woman, who is soulless herself, can discern 
the soul in man ? How can she judge about his morality 
who is herself non-moral ? How can she grasp his character 
when she has no character herself ? How appreciate his 
will when she is herself without will ? 

These difficult problems lie before us, and their solutions 
must be placed on strong foundations, for there will be 
many attempts to destroy them. 



The chief objection that will be urged against my views is 
that they cannot possibly be valid for all women. For 
some, or even for the majority, they will be accepted as true, 
but for the rest 

It was not my original intention to deal with the different 
kinds of women. Women may be regarded from many 
different points of view, and, of course, care must be taken 
not to press too hardly what is true for one extreme type. 
If the word character be accepted in its common, empirical 
signification, then there are differences in women's char- 
acters. All the properties of the male character find re- 
markable analogies in the female sex (an interesting case 
will be dealt with later on in this chapter) ; but in the male 
the character is always deeply rooted in the sphere of the 
intelligible, from which there has come about the lament- 
able confusion between the doctrine of the soul and charac- 
terology. The characterological differences amongst women 
are not rooted so deeply that they can develop into indi- 
viduality ; ^nd probably there is no female quality that in 
the course of the life of a woman cannot be modified, 
repressed, or annihilated by the will of a man.^ 

How far such differences in character may exist in cases 
that have the same degree of masculinity or of femininity I 
have not yet been at the pains to inquire. I have refrained 
deliberately from this task, because in my desire to prepare 
the way for a true orientation of all the difficult problems 
connected with my subject I have been anxious not to raise 
side issues or to burden the argument with collateral details. 


The detailed characterology of women must wait for a 
detailed treatment, but even this work has not totally 
neglected the differences that exist amongst women ; I shall 
hope to be acquitted of false generalisations if it be remem- 
bered that what I have been saying relates to the female 
element, and is true in the same proportion that women 
possess that element. However, as it is quite certain that a 
particular type of woman will be brought forward in oppo- 
sition to my conclusions, it is necessary to consider carefully 
that type and its contrasting type. 

To all the bad and defamatory things that I have said 
about women, the conception of woman as a mother will 
certainly be opposed. But those who adduce this argu- 
ment will admit the justice of a simultaneous consideration 
of the type that is at the opposite pole from motherhood, as 
only in this way is it possible to define clearly in what 
motherhood consists and to delimit it from other types. 

The type standing at the pole opposite to motherhood is 
the prostitute. The contrast is not any more mevitable than 
the contrast between man and woman, and certain limits 
and restrictions will have to be made. But allowing for 
these, women will now be treated as falling into two types, 
sometimes having in them more of the one type, sometimes 
more of the other. 

This dichotomy may be misunderstood if I do not distm- 

guish it from a contrast that is popularly made. It is often 

said that a woman should be both mother and mistress. I 

do not see the sense or the utility of the distinction involved 

in the phrase. Is no more meant by "mistress" than the 

condition which of necessity must precede motherhood? 

If that is so, then no lasting characterological property is 

involved. For the word " mistress " tells us nothing about 

a woman except that she is in a certain relation to a man. 

It has nothing to do with her real being ; it is something 

imposed on her from without. The conception of being 

loved tells us nothing about the nature of the person who is 

loved. The condition of being loved, whether as mother or 

mistress, is a merely accidental, external designation of the 


individual, whereas the quality of motherhood is something 
born in a woman, something deep-seated in her nature. It 
is this something that we must investigate. 

That motherhood and prostitution are at extreme poles 
appears probable simply from the fact that motherly women 
bear far more children, whilst the frivolous have few child- 
dren, and prostitutes are practically sterile. It must be 
remembered, of course, that it is not only prostitutes who 
belong to the prostitute type ; very many so-called respect- 
able girls and married women belong to it. Accurate 
Analysis of the type will show that it reaches far beyond the 
mere women of the streets. The street-walker differs from 
the respectable coquette and the celebrated hetaira only 
through her incapacity for differentiation, her complete 
want of memory, and her habit of living from moment to 
moment. If there were but one man and one woman on 
the earth, the prostitute type would reveal itself in the rela- 
tions of the woman to the man. 

This fact of limited fertility ought by itself to relieve me 
from the necessity of comparing my view of prostitution 
with the popular view that would derive what is really deep- 
seated in the nature of women from mere social conditions, 
from the poverty of women and the economic stress of a 
society arranged by males, from the difficulty ot women 
succeeding in a respectable career, or from the existence of 
a large bachelor class with the consequent demand for a 
system of prostitution. To these suggestions it may well 
be replied that prostitution is by no means confined to the 
poorer classes ; that women without any economic necessity 
have frequently given way to its appeal ; that there are 
many situations in shops, offices, post-offices, the telegraph 
and telephone services, wherever mere mechanical ability is 
required, where women are preferred because, from their 
iower degree of differentiation, their demands are smaller ; 
and business men having discovered this in anticipation of 
science, readily employ them at a lower rate of wages. 
Young prostitutes have often quite as hard an economic 
battle to fight, as they must wear expensive clothes, and as 


they are always charged excessively high rates for food and 
lodging. Prostitution is not a result of social conditions, 
but of some cause deep in the nature of women ; prostitutes 
who have been "reclaimed" frequently, even if provided 
for, return to their old way of life. It is a curious circum- 
stance that prostitutes appear to be relatively immune to 
certain diseases which readily affect other types of women. 
I may note finally, that prostitution is not a modern growth ; 
it has been known from the earliest times, and even was a 
part of some ancient religions, as, for instance, among the 

Prostitution cannot be considered as a state into which 
men have seduced women. The man may occasionally be 
to blame, as, for instance, when a servant is discharged and 
finds herself deserted. But where there is no inclination 
for a certain course, the course will not be adopted. Pros- 
titution is foreign to the male element, although the lives of 
men are often more laborious and unpleasant than those of 
women, and male prostitutes (such as are found amongst 
waiters, barbers, and so on) are always advanced sexually 
intermediate forms. The disposition for and inclination to 
prostitution is as organic in a woman as is the capacity for 

Of course, I do not mean to suggest that, when any 
woman becomes a prostitute, it is because of an irresistible, 
inborn craving. Probably most women have both possi- 
bilities in them, the mother and the prostitute. What is to 
happen in cases of doubt depends on the man who is able to 
make the woman a mother, not merely by the physical act 
but by a single look at her. Schopenhauer said that a 
man's existence dates from the moment when his father and 
mother fell in love. That is not true. The birth of a 
human being, ideally considered, dates from the moment 
when the mother first saw or heard the voice of the father of 
her child. Biological and medical science, under the 
influence of Johannes Müller, Th. Bischof, and Darwin have 
been completely opposed, for the last sixty years, to the 
theory of " impression." I may later attempt to develop 


such a theory. For the present I shall remark only that it 
is not fatal to the theory of impression that it does not agree 
with the view which regards the union of an ovum and 
spermatazoon as the only beginning of a new individual • 
and science will have to deal with it instead of regarding it 
as being opposed to all experience and so rejecting it. l^ 
an a priori science such as mathematics, I may take it for 
granted that even on the planet Jupiter 2 and 2 could not 
make 5, but biology deals only with propositions of relative 
universality. Although I support the theory of the existence 
of such a power of impression, it must not be supposed that I 
think that all malformations and abnormalities, or even any 
large number of them, are due to it. I go no further than 
to say that it is possible for the progeny to be influenced by 
a man, although physical relations between him and the 
mother have not taken place. And just as Schopenhauer 
and Goethe were correct in their theory of colour, although 
they were in opposition to all the physicists of the past, 
present, and future, so Ibsen (in "The Lady from the Sea") 
and Goethe (in " Elective Affinities ") may be right against 
all the scientific men who deal with the problems of inheri- 
tance on a purely physical basis. 

If a man has an influence on a woman so great that her 
children of whom he is not the father resemble him, he 
must be the absolute sexual complement of the woman in 
question. If such cases are very rare, il is only because 
there is not much chance of the absolute sexual com- 
plements meeting, and this is no argument against the 
truth of the views of Goethe and Ibsen to which I have just 

It is a rare chance if a woman meets a man so completely 
her sexual complement that his mere presence makes him 
the father of her children. And so it is conceivable in the 
case of many mothers and prostitutes that their fates have 
been reversed by accident. On the other hand, there must 
be many cases in which the woman remains true to. the 
maternal type without meeting the necessary man, and also 
cases where a woman, even although she meets the man, 


lay be driven none the less into the prostitute type by her 
atural instincts. 

We have not to face the general occurrence of women as 
ne or other of two distinct inborn types, the maternal 
ype and the prostitute. The reality is found between the 
wo. There are certainly no women absolutely devoid of 
he prostitute instinct to covet being sexually excited by 
uiy stranger. And there are equally certainly no women 
ibsolutely devoid of all maternal instincts, although I con- 
ess that I have found more cases approaching the absolute 
prostitute than the absolute mother. 

/The essence of motherhood consists, as the most super- 
ficial investigation will reveal, in that the getting of the child 
is the chief object of life, whereas in the prostitute sexual 
relations in themselves are the end. The investigation of 
the subject must be pursued by considering the relation of 
each type to the child and to sexual congress.X 

Consider the relation to the child first. ^The absolute 
prostitute thinks only of the man ; the absolute mother 
thinks only of the child. The best test case is the relation 
to the daughter. It is only when there is no jealousy about 
her youth or greater beauty, no grudging about the admira- 
tion she wins, but an identification of herself with her 
daughter so complete that she is as pleased about her 
child's admirers as if they were her own, that a woman has 
a claim to the title of perfect mother. 

The absolute mother (if such existed), who thinks only 
about the child, would become a mother by any man. It 
will be found that women who were devoted to dolls when 
they were children, and were kind and attentive to children 
in their own childhood, are least particular about their 
husbands, and are most ready to accept the first good match 
who takes any notice of them and who satisfies their 
parents and relatives. When such a maiden has become a 
mother, it matters not by whom, she ceases to pay any 
attention to any other men. The absolute prostitute, on 
the other hand, even when she is still a child, dislikes 
children ; later on, she may pretend to care for them as 


a means of attracting men through the idea of mother 
and child. She is the woman whose desire is to please 
all men ; and since there is no such thing as an ideally 
perfect type of mother, there are traces of this desire to 
please in every woman, as every man of the world will 

Here we can trace at least a formal resemblance between 
the two types. Both are careless as to the individuality of 
their sexual complement. The one accepts any possible 
man who can make her a mother, and once that has been 
achieved asks nothing more ; on this ground only is she to 
be described as monogamous. The other is ready to yield 
herself to any man who stimulates her erotic desires ; that 
is her only object. From this description of the two 
extreme types we may hope to gain some knowledge of the 
nature of actual women. 

I have to admit that the popular opinion as to the mono- 
gamous nature of women as opposed to the essential 
polygamy of the male, an opinion I long held, is erroneous. 
The contrary is the case. One must not be misled by the 
fact that a woman will wait very long for a particular man, 
and where possible will choose him who can bestow most 
value on her, the most noble, the most famous, the ideal 
prince. Woman is distinguished by this desire for value 
from the animals, who have no regard for value either for 
themselves and through themselves, as in the case of a man, 
or for another and through another, as in the case of a 
woman^'' But this could be brought forward only by fools 
as in ariy way to the credit of woman, since, indeed, it shows 
most strongly that she is devoid of a feeling of personal 
value. The desire for this demands to be satisfied, but does 
not find satisfaction in the moral idea of monogamy, /yhe 
man is able to pour forth value, to confer it on the woman ; 
he can give it, he wishes to give it, but he cannot receive it. 
The woman seeks to create as much personal value as pos- 
sible for herself, and so adheres to the man who can 
give her most of it ; faithfulness of the man, however, rests 
on other grounds. He regards it as the completion of 


ideal love, as a fulfilment, even although it is questionable 
if that could be attained. His faithfulness springs from 
the purely masculine conception of truth, the continuity 
demanded by the intelligible ego.) One often hears it said 
that women are more faithful than men ; but man's faithful- 
ness is a coercion which he exercises on himself, of his own 
free will, and with full consciousness. He may not adhere 
to this self-imposed contract, but his falling away from it 
will seem as a wrong to himself. When he breaks his faith 
he has suppressed the promptings of his real nature. For 
the woman unfaithfulness is an exciting game, in which the 
thought of morality plays no part, but which is controlled 
only by the desire for safety and reputation. There is no 
wife who has not been untrue to her husband in thought, 
and yet no woman reproaches herself with this. For a 
woman pledges her faith lightly and without any full con- 
sciousness of what she does, and breaks it just as lightly and 
thoughtlessly as she pledged it. The motive for honouring 
a pledge can be found only in man ; for a woman does not 
understand the binding force of a given word. The 
examples of female faithfulness that can be adduced 
against this are of little value. They are either the slow 
result of the habit of sexual acquiescence, or a condition 
of actual slavery, dog-like, attentive, full of instinctive 
tenacious attachment, comparable with that necessity for 
actual contact which marks female sympathy. 

The conception of faithfulness to one has been created 
by man. It arises from the masculine idea of individuality 
which remains unchanged by time, and, therefore, needs as 
its complement always one and the same person. The 
conception of faithfulness to one person is a lofty one, and 
finds a worthy expression in the sacramental marriage of 
the Catholic Church. I am not going to discuss the question 
of marriage or free-love. Marriage in its existing form is 
as incompatible as free-love with the highest interpretations 
of the moral law. And so divorce came into the world 
with marriage. 

None the less marriage could have been invented only by 


man. No proprietary institution originated with women. 
The introduction of order into chaotic sexual relations 
could have come only through man's desire for it, and his 
power to establish it. There have been periods in the 
history of many primitive races in which women had great 
influence; but the period of matriarchy was a period of 

The dissimilarity in the relations of mother and prostitute 
to their child is rich in important conclusions. A woman 
in whom the prostitute element is strong will perceive her 
son's manhood and always stand in a sexual relation to him. 
But as no woman is the perfect type of mother, there is 
something sexual in the relation of every mother and son. 
For this reason, I chose the relation of the mother to her 
daughter and not to her son, as the best measure of her 
type. There are many well-known physiological parallels 
between the relations of a mother to her children and of a 
wife to her husband. 

Motherliness, like sexuality, is not an individual relation. 
When a woman is motherly the quality will be exercised 
not only on the child of her own body, but towards all men, 
although later on her interest in her own child may become 
all-absorbing and make her narrow, blind, and unjust in 
the event of a quarrel. 

\The relation of a motherly girl to her lover is interesting. 
Such a girl is inclined to be motherly towards the man 
she loves, especially towards that man who will afterwards 
become the father of her child ; in fact, in a certain sense 
the man is her child. The deepest nature of the mother- 
type reveals itself in this identity of the mother and loving 
wife ; the mothers form the enduring root-stock of our race 
from which the individual man arises, and in the face of 
which he recognises his own impermanence.'\^It is this idea 
which enables the man to see in the mother, even while 
she is still a girl, something eternal, and which gives the 
pregnant woman a tremendous significance. The enduring 
security of the race lies in the mystery of this figure, in the 
presence of which man feels his own fleeting impermanence./' 


In such minutes there may come to him a sense of freedom 
and peace, and in the mysterious silence of the idea, he 
may think that it is through the woman that he is in true 
relation with the universe. He becomes the child of his 
beloved one, a child whose mother smiles on him, under- 
stands him, and takes care of him (Siegfried and Brünn- 
hilde, Act III.). But this does not last long. (Siegfried 
tears himself from Brünnhilde). For a man only comes to 
his fulness when he frees himself from the race, when he 
raises himself above it. For paternity cannot satisfy the 
deepest longings of a man, and the idea that he is to be lost 
in the race is repellent to him. The most terrible chapter 
in the most comfortless of all the great books that have 
been written, the chapter on " Death and its Relation to 
the Indestructibility of our Nature," in Schopenhauer's 
"The World as Will and Idea," is where the permanence of 
the will to maintain the species is set down as the only real 

■(it IS the permanence of the race that gives the mother 
her courage and fearlessness in contrast with the coward- 
liness and fear of the prostitute. It is not the courage of 
individuality, the moral courage arising from an inner sense 
of freedom and personal value, but rather the desire that 
the race should be maintained which, acting through the 
mother, protects the husband and child.\ As courage and 
cowardice belong respectively to the mother and the 
prostitute, so is it with that other pair of contrasting ideas, 
hope and fear. The absolute mother stands in a persisting 
relation to hope ; as she lives on through the race, she does 
not quail before death, whilst the prostitute has a lasting 
fear of it. 

The mother feels herself in a sense superior to the man ; 
she knows herself to be his anchor ; as she is in a secure 
place, linked in the chain of the generations, she may be 
likened to a harbour trom which each new individual sails 
forth to wander on the high seas. From the moment of 
conception onwards the mother is psychically and physi- 
cally ready to feed and protect her child. And this protective 


superiority extends itself to her lover ; she understands all 
that is simple and naive and childlike in him, whilst the 
prostitute understands best his caprices and refinements, 
^he mother has the craving to teach her child, to give him 
everything, even when the child is represented by the lover; 
the prostitute strives to impose herself on the man, to 
receive everything from him. The mother as the upholder 
of the race is friendly to all its members ; it is only when 
there is an exclusive choice to be made between her child 
and others that she becomes hard and relentless ; and so 
she can be both more full of love and more bitter than 
the prostitute.'> 

The mother is in complete relation with the continuity of 
the race ; the prostitute is completely outside it. ^The 
mother is the sole advocate and priestess of the race^ The 
will of the race to live is embodied in her, whilst the exist- 
ence of the prostitute shows that Schopenhauer was pushing 
a generalisation too far when he declared that all sexuality 
had relation only to the future generation. That the mother 
cares only for the life of her own race is plain from the absence 
of consideration for animals shown by the best of mothers. 
A good mother, with the greatest peace of mind and content, 
will slaughter fowl after fowl for her family. The mother of 
children is a cruel step-mother to all other living things. 

Another striking aspect of the mother's relation to the 
preservation of the race reveals itself in the matter of food. 
She cannot bear to see food wasted, however little may be 
left over ; whilst the prostitute wilfully squanders the quan- 
tities of food and drink she demands. The mother is stingy 
and mean ; the prostitute open-handed and lavish, (^he 
mother's object in life is to preserve the race, and her delight 
is to see her children eat and to encourage their appetites. 
And so she becomes the good housekeeper. Ceres was a 
good mother, a fact expressed in her Greek name, Demeter. 
The mother takes care of the body, but does not trouble 
about the mind.* The relation between mother and child 

(*^^ Compare the conversation in Ibsen*s "Peer Gynt," Act ii., 


remains material from the kissing and hugging of childhood 
to the protective care of maturity. All her devotion is for 
the success and prosperity of her child in material things.) 

Maternal love, then, cannot be truly represented as resting 
on moral grounds. Let any one ask himself if he does 
not believe that his mother's love would not be just as great 
for him if he were a totally different person. The indi- 
viduality of the child has no part in the maternal love ; 
the mere fact of its being her own child is sufficient, and so 
the love cannot be regarded as moral. In the love of a 
man for a woman, or between persons of the same sex, 
there is always some reference to the personal qualities of 
the individual ; a mother's love extends itself indifferently to 
anything that she has borne. It destroys tlje moral con- 
ception if we realise that the love of a mother for her child 
remains the same whether the child becomes a saint or a 
sinner, a king or a beggar, an angel or a fiend. Precisely 
the same conclusion will be reached from reflecting how 
children think that they have a claim on their mother's love 
simply because she is their mother, "paternal love is non- 
moral because it has no relation to the individuality of the 
being on which it is bestowed, and there can be an ethical 
relation only between two individualities^ The relation of 
mother and child is always a kind of physical reflex. If the 
little one suddenly screams or cries when the mother is in 
the next room, she will at once rush to it as if she herself 
had been hurt ; and, as the children grow up, every wish or 
trouble of theirs is directly assumed and shared by the 
mother as if they were her own. There is an unbreakable 
link between the mother and child, physical, like the cord 
that united the two before childbirth. This is the real 
nature of the maternal relation ; and, for my part, I protest 

between the father of Solveig and Aase (perhaps the best-drawn 
mother in all literature) when they were discussing the search for 
their son : 

Aase. " We shall find him." 

Her Husband. " And save his soul." 

Aase, " And his body." 


against the fashion in which it is praised, its very indis- 
criminate character being made a merit. I believe myself 
that many great artists have recognised this, but have chosen 
to be silent about it. The extraordinary over-praising of 
Raphael is losing ground, and the singers of maternal love 
are no higher than Fischart or Richepin. 

Maternal love is an instinctive and natural impulse, and 
animals possess it in a degree as high as that of human 
beings. This alone is enough to show that it is not true 
love, that it is not of moral origin ; for all morality proceeds 
from the intelligible character which animals, having no 
free will, do not possess, ^he ethical imperative can be 
heard only by a rational creature ; there is no such thing as 
natural morality, for all morality must be self-conscious> 

Her position outside the mere preservation of the race, 
the fact that she is not merely the channel and the indifferent 
protector of the chain of beings that passes through her, 
place the prostitute in a sense above the mother, so far at 
least as it is possible to speak of higher or lower from the 
ethical point of view when women are being discussed. 

The matron whose whole time is taken up in looking after 
her husband and children, who is working in, or superin- 
tending the work of, the house, garden, or other forms of 
labour, ranks intellectually very low. The most highly- 
developed women mentally, those who have been lauded in 
poetry, belong to the prostitute category ; to these, the 
Aspasia-type, must be added the women of the romantic 
school, foremost among whom must be placed Karoline 

It coincides with what has been said that only those men 
are sexually attracted by the mother-type who have no desire 
for mental productivity. The man whose fatherhood is con- 
fined to the children of his loins is he whom we should 
expect to choose the motherly productive woman. Great 
men have always preferred women of the prostitute type.* 
Their choice falls on the sterile woman, and, if there is 

* Wherever I am using this term I refer, of course, not merely 
to mercenary women of the streets. 


issue, it is unfit and soon dies out. Ordinary fatherhood 
has as little do do with morality as motherhood. It is 
non-moral, as I shall show in chap. xiv. ; and it is illo- 
gical, because it deals with illusions. ;^o man ever knows 
to what extent he is the father of his own child. And its 
duration is short and fleeting ; every generation and every 
race of human beings soon disappear^> 

The wide-spread and exclusive honouring of the' motherly 
woman, the type most upheld as the one and only possible 
one for women, is accordingly quite unjustified. Although 
most men are certain that every woman can have her con- 
summation only in motherhood, I must confess that the 
prostitute — not as a person, but as a phenomenon — is much 
more estimable in my opinion. 

There are various causes of this universal reverence for 
the mother. 

One of the chief reasons appears to be that the mother 
seems to the man nearer his ideal of chastity ; but the 
woman who desires children is no more chaste than the 
man-coveting prostitute. 

The man rewards the appearance of higher morality in 
the maternal type by raising her morally (although with no 
reason) and socially over the prostitute type. The latter 
does not submit to any valuations of the man nor to the 
ideal of chastity which he seeks for in the woman ; secretly, 
as the woman of the world, lightly as the demi-mondaine, or 
flagrantly as the woman of the streets, she sets herself in 
opposition to them. This is the explanation of the social 
ostracisms, the practical outlawry which is the present 
almost universal fate of the prostitute. The mother readily 
submits to the moral impositions of man, simply because 
she is interested only in the child and the preservation of 
the race. 

\It is quite different with the prostitute. She lives her 
own life exactly as she pleases, even although it may bring 
with it the punishment of exclusion from society. She is 
not so brave as the mother, it is true, being thoroughly 
cowardly ; but she has the correlative of cowardice, impu- 


dence, and she is not ashamed of her shamelessness.' She 
is naturally inclined to polygamy, and always ready to 
attract more men than the one who would suffice as the 
founder of a family. She gives free play to the fulfilment 
of her desire, and feels a queen, and her most ardent 
wish is for more power. Ut is easy to grieve or shock the 
motherly woman ; no one can injure or offend the pros- 
titute ; for the mother has her honour to defend as the 
guardian of the species, whilst the prostitute has forsworn 
all social respect, and prides herself in her freedony The 
qiilyjihought- that disturbs her is_the possibility of losing 
her power. She expects, and cannot think otherwise than 
that every man wishes to possess her, that they think of 
nothing but her, and live for her. And certainly she 
possesses the greatest power over men, the only influence 
that has a strong effect on the life of humanity that is not 
ordered by the regulations of men. 

In this lies the analogy between the prostitute and men 
who have been famous in politics. As it is only once in 
many centuries that a great conqueror arises, like Napoleon 
or Alexander, so it is with the great courtesan ; but when she 
does appear she marches triumphantly across the world. 

There is a relationship between such men and courtesans 
(every politician is to a certain extent a tribune of the 
people, and that in itself implies a kind of prostitution). 
They have the same feeling for power, the same demand to 
be in relations with all men, even the humblest. Just as 
the great conqueror believes that he confers a favour on 
any one to whom he talks, so also with the prostitute. 
Observe her as she talks to a policeman, or buys something 
in a shop, you see the sense of conferring a favour explicit 
in her. And men most readily accept this view that they 
are receiving favours from the politician or prostitute (one 
may recall how a great genius like Goethe regarded his 
meeting with Napoleon at Erfurt ; and on the other side we 
have the myth of Pandora, and the story of the birth of 

1 may now return to the subject of great men of action 


which I opened in chap. v. Even so far-seeing a man 
as Carlyle has exalted the man of action, as, for instance, 
in his chapter on "The Hero as King." I have already 
shown that I cannot accept such a view. I may add here 
that all great men of action, even the greatest of them, such 
as Caesar, Cromwell, Napoleon, have not hesitated to em- 
ploy falsehood ; that Alexander the Great did not hesitate 
to defend one of his murders by sophistry. But untruth- 
fulness is incompatible with genius. The "Memoirs of 
Napoleon," written at St. Helena, are full of mistatements 
and watery sophistry, and his last words, that " he had 
loved only France," were an altruistic pose. Napoleon, the 
greatest of the conquerors, is a sufficient proof that great 
men of action are criminals, and, therefore, not geniuses. 
One can understand him by thinking of the tremendous 
intensity with which he tried to escape from himself. 
There is this element in all the conquerors, great or small. 
Just because he had great gifts, greater than those of any 
emperor before him, he had greater difficulty in stifling the 
disapproving voice within him. The motive of his ambition 
was the craving to stifle his better self. A truly great man 
may honestly share in the desire for admiration or fame 
but personal ambition will not be his aim. He will not try 
to knit the whole world to himself by superficial, transitory 
bonds, to heap up all the things of the world in a pyramid 
over his name. The man of action shares with the epileptic 
the desire to be in criminal relation to everything around 
him, to make them appanages of his petty self. (The great 
man feels himself defined and separate from the world, a 
monad amongst monads, and, as a true microcosm, he feels 
the world already within him ; he realises in the fullest sense 
of personal experience that he has a definite, assured, intelli- 
gible relation to the world whole. The great tribune and 
the great courtesan do not feel that they are marked off 
from the world ; they merge with it, and demand it all as 
decoration or adornment of their empirical persons, and 
th^y^are jiTcapa ble of lov e,^ff^ectic)n^_Qrjfrie.ndshi^. 

The kmg of the fairy tale who wished to conquer the 


stars is the perfect image of the conqueror. The great 
genius honours himself, and has not to hve in a condition 
of give and take with the populace, as is necessary for the 
politician. The great politician makes his voice resound in 
the world, but he has also to sing in the streets ; he may 
make the world his chessboard, but he has also to strut in a 
booth ; he is no more a despot than he is a beggar for alms. 
He has to court the populace, and here he joins with the 
prostitute. The politician is a man of the streets. He must 
be completed by the public. It is the masses that he re- 
quires, not real individualities. If he is not clever he tries 
to be rid of the great men, or if, like Napoleon, he is 
cunning, he pretends to honour them in order that he may 
make them harmless. His dependence on the public makes 
some such course necessary. A politician cannot do all 
that he wishes, even if he is a Napoleon, and if, unlike 
Napoleon, he actually wished to realise ideals, he would 
soon be taught better by the public, his real master. The 
will of him who covets power is bound. 

Every emperor is conscious of this relation between him- 
self ind the masses, and has an almost instinctive love of 
great assemblages of his people, or his army, or of his 
electors. Not Marcus Aurelius or Diocletian, but Kleo, 
Mark Antony, Themistocles, and Mirabeau are the em- 
bodiments of the real politician. Ambition means going 
amongst the people. The tribune has to follow the prosti- 
tute in this respect. According to Emerson, Napoleon 
used to go incognito amongst the people to excite their 
hurrahs and praise. Schiller imagined the same course for 
his Wallenstein. 

Hitherto the phenomena of the great man of action have 
been regarded even by artists and philosophers as unique. 
I think that my analysis has shown that there is the strongest 
resemblance between them and prostitutes. To see an 
analogy between Antonius (Caesar) and Cleopatra may 
appear at first far-fetched, but none the less it exists. The 
great man of action has to despise his inner life, in order 
that he may live altogether " in the world," and he must 


perish, like the things of the world. The prostitute abandons 
the lasting purpose of her sex, to live in the instincts of the 
moment. The great prostitute and the great tribune are 
firebrands causing destruction all around them, leaving 
death and devastation in their paths, and pass like meteors 
unconnected with the course of human life, indifferent to 
its objects, and soon disappearing, whilst the genius and the 
mother work for the future in silence. ^The prostitute and 
the tribune may be called the enemies of God • they are 
both anti-moral phenomena^ 

Great men of action, then, must be excluded from the 
category of genius. The true genius, whether he be an 
artist or a philosopher, is always strongly marked by his 
relation to the constructive side of the world. 

The motive that actuates the prostitute requires further 
investigation. The purpose of the motherly woman was 
easy to understand ; she is the upholder of the race. But 
the fundamental idea of prostitution is much more mys- 
terious, and no one can have meditated long on the subject 
without often doubting if it were possible to get an explana- 
tion. Perhaps the relation of the two types to the sexual 
act may assist the inquiry. I hope that no one will consider 
such a subject below the dignity of a philosopher. The 
spirit in which the inquiry is made is the chief matter. It 
is at least clear that the painters of Leda and Danäe have 
pondered over the problem, and many great writers — I 
have in mind Zola's "Confession of Claude," his "Hortense," 
"Renee," and "Nana," Tolstoi's "Resurrection," Ibsen's 
"Hedda Gabler," and " Rita," and above all the "Sonja" of 
that great soul Dostoyevski — must have been thinking of the 
general problem rather than merely wishing to describe 
particular cases. 

The maternal woman regards the sexual relations as 
means to an end ; the prostitute considers them as the end 
itself. That sexual congress may have another purpose 
than mere reproduction is plain, as many animals and plants 
are devoid of it. On the other hand, in the animal kingdom, 
sexual congress is always in connection with reproduction, 


and is never simply lust ; and, moreover, takes place only 
at times suitable for breeding. Desire is simply the means 
employed by nature to secure the contmuity of the species. 

Although sexual congress is an end in itself for the 
prostitute, it must not be assumed that it is meaningless in 
the mother-type. Women who are sexually anaesthetic no 
doubt exist in both classes, but they are very rare, and 
many apparent cases may really be phenomena of hysteria. 

The final importance attached by the prostitute to the 
sexual act is made plain by the fact that it is only that type 
in which coquetry occurs. Coquetry has invariably a sexual 
significance. Its purpose is to picture to the man the 
.f?Q0Jä9if:s.t_oi _the woman before it has_ occurred, in o rder to 
induce him to make the conquest an actual fact. The 
readiness of the type to coquet with every man is an expres- 
sion of her nature ; whether it proceeds further depends on 
mprely accidental circumstances. 

[The maternal type regards the sexual act as the beginning 
of a series of important events, and so attaches value to it 
equally with the prostitute, although in a different fashion/ 
The one is contented, completed, satisfied ; her life is made 
richer and of fuller meaning to her by it. The other, for 
whom the act is everything, the compression and end of 
all life, is never satisfied, never to be satisfied, were she 
visited by all the men in the world. 

' The body of a woman, as I have already shown, is sexual 
'throughout, and the special sexual acts are only intensifica- 
tions of a distributed sensation. Here, also, the difference 
between the two types displays itself. The prostiiute type 
' in coquetting is merely using the general sexuality of her 
body as an end in itself ; for her there is a difference only 
in degree between flirtation and sexual congress. The 
maternal type is equally sexual, but with a different purpose; 
all her life, through all her body, she is being impregnated. 
In this fact lies the explanation of the "impression " which 
I referred to as being indubitable, although it is denied by 
men of science and physicians^ 

Paternity is a diffused relation. Many instances, disputed 


by men of science, point to an influence not brought about 
directly by the reproductive cells. White women who 
have borne a child to a black man, are said if they bear 
children afterwards to white men, to have retained enough 
impression from the first mate to show an effect on the 
subsequent children. All such facts, grouped under the 
names of " telegony," ** germinal infection," and so. on, 
although disputed by scientists, speak for my view. (And 
so also the motherly woman, throughout her whole lire, is 
impressed by lovers, by voices, by words, by inanimate 
things. All the influences that come to her she turns to the 
purpose of her being, to the shaping of her child, and the 
" actual " father has to share his paternity with perhaps 
other men and many other things.) 

The woman is impregnated not only through the genital 
tract but through every fibre of her being. All life makes 
an impression on her and throws its image on her child. 
This universality, in the purely physical sphere, is analagous 
to genius. 
<Jt is quite different with the prostitute. Whilst the 
maternal woman turns the whole world, the love of her 
lover, and all the impressions that she receives to the pur- 
poses of the child, the prostitute absorbs everything for 
herself^ But just as she has this absorbing need of the 
man, so the man can get something from her which he fails 
to find in the badly dressed, tasteless, pre-occupied maternal 
type. Something within him requires pleasure, and this he 
gets from the daughters of joy. Unlike the mother, these 
think of the pleasures of the world, of dancing, of dressing, 
of theatres and concerts, of pleasure-resorts. They know 
the use of gold, turning it to luxury instead of to comfort, 
they flame through the world, making all its ways a 
triumphant march for their beautiful bodies. 

The prostitute is the great seductress of the world, the 
female Don Juan, the being in the woman that knows the 
art of love, that cultivates it, teaches it, and enjoys it. 

Very deep-seated differences are linked with what I have 
been describing. The mother-woman craves for respect- 


ability in the man, not because she grasps its value as an 
idea, but because it is the supporter of the life of the world. 
She herself works, and is not idle like the prostitute ; she is 
tilled with care for the future, and so requires from the man 
a corresponding practical responsibility, and will not seduce 
him to pleasure. (The prostitute, on the other hand, is 
most attracted by a careless, idle, dissipated man. A man 
that has lost self-restraint repels the mother-woman, is 
attractive to the prostitute. There are women who are 
dissatisfied with a son that is idle at school ; there are others 
who encourage him^ The diligent boy pleases the mother- 
woman, the idle and careless boy wins approval from the 
prostitute type. This distinction reaches high up amongst 
the respectable classes of society, but a salient example of 
it is seen in the fact that the " bullies " loved by women of 
the streets are usually criminals. The souteneur is always 
a criminal, a thief, a fraudulent person, or sometimes even 
a murderer. 

I am almost on the point of saymg that, however little 
woman is to be regarded as immoral (she is only non- 
moral), prostitution stands in some deep relation with 
crime, whilst motherhood is equally bound with the oppo- 
site tendency. We must avoid regarding the prostitute as 
the female analogue of the criminal ; women, as I have 
already pointed out, are not criminals ; they are too low in 
the moral scale for that designation. None the less, there 
is a constant connection between the prostitute type and 
crime. The great courtesan is comparable with that great 
criminal, the conqueror, and readily enters into actual rela- 
tions with him ; the petty courtesan entertains the thief and 
/ the pickpocket. 'vThe mother type is in fact the guardian of 
the life of the world, the prostitute type is its enemy^ But 
just as the mother is in harmony, not with the soul but with 
the body, so the prostitute is no diabolic destroyer of the 
idea, but only a corrupter of empirical phenomena. Physi- 
/ cal life and physical death, both of which are in intimate 
connection with the sexual act, are displayed by the woman 
,in her two capacities of mother and prostitute./ 


It is siill impossible to give a clearer solution than that 
which I h:ive attempted, of the real significance of mother- 
hood and prostitution. I am on an unfamiliar path, almost 
untrodden by any earlier wayfarer. Religious myths and 
plilosophy alike have been unable to propound solutions. 
I have found some clues however. The anti-moral signi- 
ficance of prostitution is in harmony with the fact that it 
appears only amongst mankind. In all the animal kingdom 
the females are used only for reproduction ; there are no 
true females that are sterile. There are analogies to prosti- 
tution, however, amongst male animals ; one has only to 
think of the display and decoration of the peacock, of tne 
shining glow-worm, of singing birds, of the love dances of 
many male birds. These secondary sexual manifestations, 
however, are mere advertisements of sexuality. 

Prostitution is a human phenomenon ; animals and 
plants are non-moral ; they are never disposed to immo- 
rality and possess only motherhood. Here is a deep secret, 
hidden in the nature and origin of mankind. I ought to 
correct my earlier exposition by insisting that I have come 
to regard the prostitute element as a possibility in all 
women just as much as the merely animal capacity for 
motherhood. It is something which penetrates the nature 
of the human female, something with which the most 
animal-like mother is tinged, something which corresponds 
in the human female, to the characters that separate the 
human male from the animal male. ^Just as the immoral, 
possibility of man is something that distinguishes him from 
the male animal/so the quality of the prostitute distinguishes 
the human female from the animal female. I shall have 
something to say as to the general relation of man to this 
element in woman, towards the end of my investigation, 
but possibly the ultimate origin of prostitution is a deep 
mystery into which none can penetrate. 



The arguments which are in common use to justify a high 
opinion of woman have now been examined in all except a 
few points to which I shall recur, from the point of view of 
critical philosophy, and have been controverted. I hope 
that I have justified my deliberate choice of ground, 
although, indeed, Schopenhauer's fate should have been a 
warning to me. His depreciation of women in his philo- 
sophical work "On Women," has been frequently attributed 
to the circumstance that a beautiful Venetian girl, in whose 
company he was, fell in love with the extremely handsome 
personal appearance of Byron ; as if a low opinion of 
women were not more likely to come to him who had had 
the best not the worst fortune with them. 

The practice of merely calling any one who assails 
woman a misogynist, instead of refuting argument by 
argument, has much to commend it. Hatred is never 
impartial, and, therefore, to describe a man as having an 
animus against the object of his criticism, is at once to lay 
him open to the charge of insincerity, immorality, and 
partiality, and one that can be made with a hyperbole of 
accusation and evasion of the point, which only equal its 
lack of justification. This sort of answer never fails in its 
object, which is to exempt the vindicator from refuting the 
actual statements. It is the oldest and handiest weapon of 
the large majority of men, who never wish to see woman 
as she is. No men who really think deeply about women 
retain a high opinion of them ; men either despise women 
or they have never thought seriously about them. 


Nähere is no doubt that it is a fallacious method in a 
theoretical argument to refer to one's opponent's psycho- 
logical motives instead of bringing forward proofs to 
controvert his statements^ 

It is not necessary for me to say that in logical contro- 
versy the adversaries should place themselves under an 
impersonal conception of truth, and their aim should be to 
reach a result, irrespective of their own concrete opinions. 
If, however, in an argument, one side has come to a certain 
conclusion by a logical chain of reasoning, and the other 
side merely opposes the conclusion without having followed 
the reasoning process, it is at once fair and appropriate to 
examine the psychological motives which have induced the 
adversaries to abandon argument for abuse. I shall now 
put the champions of women to the test and see how much 
of their attitude is due to sentimentality, how much of it is 
disinterested, and how much due to selfish motives. 

All objections raised against those who despise women 
arise from the erotic relations in which man stands to 
woman. This relationship is absolutely different from the 
purely sexual attraction which occurs in the animal world, 
and plays a most important part in human affairs. It is 
quite erroneous to say that sexuality and eroticism, sexual 
impulse and love, are fundamentally one and the same 
thing, the second an embellishing, refining, spiritualising 
sublimation of the first ; although practically all medical 
men hold this view, and even such men as Kam and 
Schopenhauer thought so. Before I go into the reasons 
for maintaining the existence of this great distinction, I 
should like to say something about the views of these two 

Kant's opinion is not of much weight, because love as 
sexual impulse must have been as little known to him as 
possible, probably less than in the case of any other man. 
He was so little erotic that he never felt the kindred desire 
to travel.* He represents too lofty and pure a type to speak 

* The association of these two desires may surprise readers. It 
rests on a metaphysical ground, much of which will be more 


with authority on this matter : his one passion was meta- 

As for Schopenhauer, he had just as Httle idea of the 
higher form of eroticism ; his sexuality was of the gross 
order. This can be seen from the following : Schopen- 
hauer's countenance shows very little kindliness and a 
good deal of fierceness (a circumstance which must have 
caused him great sorrow. There is no exhibition of ethical 
sympathy if one is very sorry for oneself. The most sym- 
pathetic persons are those who, like Kant and Nietzsche, 
have no particle of self-pity). 

But it may be said with safety that only those who are most 
sympathetic are capable of a strong passion : those " who 
take no interest in things " are incapable of love. This does 
not imply that they have diabolical natures. They may, on 
the contrary, stand very high morally without knowmg 
what their neighbours are thinking or doing,<and without 
having a sense for other than sexual relations with women, 
as was the case with Schopenhauer. He was a man who 
knew only too well what the sexual impulse was, but he 
never was in love ; if that were not so, the bias in his famous 
work, " The Metaphysics of Sexual Love," would be inex- 
plicable ; in it the most important doctrine is that the uncon- 
scious goal of all love is nothing more than "the formation 
of the next generation.y 

This view, as I hope to prove, is false. It is true that a 
love entirely without sexuality has never been known. 
However high a man may stand he is still a being with 

apparent when I have developed my theory of eroticism further. 
Time, like space, is conceived of as unlimited, and man, in his desire 
for freedom, in his efforts stimulated by his power of free will to 
transcend his limits, has the craving for unlimited time and unlimited 
space. The desire for travel is simply an expression of this rest- 
lessness, this fundamental chafing of the spirit against its bonds. 
But just as eternity is not prolonged time, but the negation of time, 
so however far a man wanders, he can extend his area but cannot 
abolish space. And so his efforts to transcend space must always 
be heroic failures : I shall show that his eroticism is a similar 
notable failure. 


senses, ^hat absolutely disposes of the opposite view is this : 
all love, as such — without going into aesthetic principles of 
love — is antagonistic to those elements (of the relationship) 
which press towards sexual union ; in fact, such elements 
tend to negate love. Love and desire are two unlike, 
mutually exclusive, opposing conditions, and during the 
time a man really loves, the thought of physical union with 
the object of his love is insupportable.) because there is 
no hope which is entirely free from fear does not alter the 
fact that hope and fear are utterly opposite principles. It 
is just the same m the case of sexual impulse and love. 
The more erotic a man is the less he will be troubled with 
his sexuality, and vice versag 

If it be the case that there is no adoration utterly free 
from desire, there is no reason why the two should be 
identified, since it might be possible for a superior being to 
attain the highest phases of both. That person lies, or has 
never known what love is, who says he loves a woman 
whom he desires ; so much difference is there between 
sexual impulse and love. This is what makes talk of love 
after marriage seem, in most cases, make-believe. 

,^he following will show how obtuse the view of those is 
who persist, with unconscious cynicism, in maintaining the 
identity of love and sexual impulse. Sexual attraction 
increases with physical proximity ; love is strongest in the 
absence of the loved one ; it needs separation, a certain 
distance, to preserve it. In fact, what all the travels in the 
world could not achieve, what time could not accomplish, 
may be brought about by accidental, unintentional, physical 
contact with the beloved object, in which the sexual im- 
pulse is awakened, and which suffices to kill love on the 
spot.^Then, again, in the case of more highly differentiated, 
great men, the type of girl desired, and the type of girl 
loved but never desired, are always totally different in face, 
form, and disposition ; they are two different beings. 

Then there is the " platonic love," which professors of psy- 
chiatry have such a poor opinion of. I should say rather, 
there is only " platonic " love, because any other so-called 


' love belongs to the kingdom of the senses :At is the love of 
Beatrice, the worship of Madpnna ; the Babylonian woman 
is the symbol of sexual desire.) 

Kant's enumeration of th6 transcendental ideas of love 
would have to be extended if it is to be held. For the 
purely spiritual love, the love of Plato and Bruno, which is 
absolutely free from desire, is none the less a transcendental 
concept ; nor is its significance as a concept impaired, 
because such a love has never been fully realised. 

It is the problem put forward in " Tannhäuser." We 
have Tannhäuser, Wolfram, Venus, and Maria. The fact 
that two lovers, who have found each other once for all — 
Tristan and Isolde — choose death instead of the bridal bed, 
is just as absolute a proof of a higher, maybe metaphysical, 
something in mankind, as the martyrdom of a Giordano 


" Dir, hohe Liebe, töne 
Begeistert mein Gesang, 
Die mir in Engelschöne 
Tief in die Seele drang ! 
Du nahst als Gott gesandte : 
Ich folg' aus holder Fern', — 
So führst du in die Lande, 
Wo ewig strahlt dein Stern." 

Who is the object of such love ? Is it woman, as she has 
been represented in this work, who lacks all higher quali- 
ties who gets her value from another, who has no power to 
attain value on her own account ? Impossible. It is the 
ideally beautiful, the immaculate woman, who is loved in 
such high fashion. The source of this beauty and chastity 
in women must now be found. 

The question as to whether the female sex is the more 
beautiful, and as to whether it deserves the title of " the " 
beautiful, has been much disputed. 

It may be well to consider by whom and how far woman 
is considered beautiful. 

It is well known that woman is not most beautiful m the 
nude. I admit that in pictures or statues the nude female 
may look well. But the sexual impulse makes it impossible 


to look at a living woman in a nude condition with the 
purely critical, unemotional eye, which is an essential feature 
in judging any object of beauty. But apart from this, an 
absolute nude female figure in the life leaves an impression 
of something wanting, an incompleteness, which is incom- 
patible with beauty. 

A nude woman may be beautiful in details, but the general 
effect is not beautiful ; she inevitably creates the feeling 
that she is looking for something, and this induces disin- 
clination rather than desire in the spectator. / The sight of 
an upright female form, in the nude, makes most patent 
her purposelessness, the sense of her purpose in life being 
derived from something outside herself ; in the recumbent 
position this feeling is greatly diminished. It is evident 
that artists have perceived this in reproducing the nude) 

But even in the details of her body a woman is not wholly 
beautiful, not even if she is a flawless, perfect type of her 
sex. The genitalia are the chief difficulty in the way of 
regarding her as theoretically beautiful. If the idea were 
justified that man's love for woman is the direct result of his 
sexual impulse ; if we could agree with Schopenhauer that 
" the under-sized, narrow-shouldered, broad-hipped, and 
short-limbed sex is called beautiful only because the male 
intellect is befogged by the sexual impulse, that impulse 
being the creator of the conception of the beauty of woman," 
it would follow that the genitalia could not be excluded from 
the conception of beauty. It requires no lengthy exposition 
to prove that the genitalia are not regarded as beautiful, and 
that, therefore, the beauty of woman cannot be regarded as 
due to the sexual impulse. In fact, the sexual impulse is m 
reality opposed to the conception of beauty. The man who 
is most under its influence has least sense of female beauty, 
and desires any woman merely because she is a woman. •. 

A woman's nude body is distasteful to man because it 
offends his sense of shame. The easy superficiality of our 
day has given colour to the statement that the sense of 
shame has arisen from the wearing of clothes, and it has 
been urged that the objection to the nude arises from those 


who are unnatural and secretly immorally-minded. But a 
man who has become immorally-minded no longer is 
interested in the nude as such, because it has lost its in- 
fluence on him. He merely desires and no longer loves. 
AW true love is modest, like all true pity. There is only 
one case of shamelessness — a declaration of love the 
sincerity of which a man is convinced of in the moment 
he makes itk This would represent the conceivable maxi- 
mum of shamelessness ; but there is no declaration of love 
which is quite true, and the stupidity of women is shown by 
their readiness to believe such protestations. 
■\ The love bestowed by the man is the standard of what is 
/beautiful and what is hateful in woman./ The conditions 
are quite different in aesthetics from those in logic or ethics. 
In logic there is an abstract truth which is the standard of 
thought ; in ethics there is an ideal good which furnishes 
the criterion of what ought to be done, and the value of the 
good is established by the determination to link the will with 
the good, (in aesthetics beauty is created by love ; there is 
no determining law to love what is beautiful, and the beauti- 
ful does not present itself to human beings with any im- 
perative command to love it. (And so there is no abstract, 
no super-individual "right " taste) J 

All beauty is really more a projection, an emanation of the 
requirements of love ; and so the beauty of woman is not 
apart from love, it is not an objective to which love is 
directedA)ut woman's beauty is the love of man ; they are 
not two things, but one and the same thing^ 

Just as hatefulness comes from hating, so love creates 
beauty. This is only another way of expressing the fact 
that beauty has as little to do with the sexual impulse as the 
sexual impulse has to do with love. Beauty is something 
that can neither be felt, touched, nor mixed with other 
things ; it is only at a distance that it can be plainly dis- 
cerned, and when it is approached it withdraws itself. The 
sexual impulse which seeks for sexual union with woman is 
a denial of such beauty ; the woman who has been possessed 
and enjoyed, will never again be worshipped for her beauty. 


I now come to the second question : what are the inno- 
cence and morality of a woman ? 

It will be convenient to start with a few facts that concern 
the origin of all love. /'-Bodily cleanliness, as has often been 
remarked, is in men a general indication of morality and 
rectitude ; or at least it m^ be said that uncleanly men are 
seldom of high character.) It may be noticed that when 
men, who formerly paid little attention to bodily cleanliness, 
begin to strive for a higher perfection of character, they at 
the same time take more trouble with the care of the body. 
In the same way, when men suddenly become imbued with 
passion they experience a simultaneous desire for bodily 
cleanliness, and it may almost be said of them that only at 
such a time do they wash themselves thoroughly. Uf we 
now turn to gifted men, we shall see that in their case love 
frequently begins with self-mortification, humiliation, and 
restraint. A moral change sets in, a process of purification 
seems to emanate from the object loved, even if her lover 
has never spoken to her, or only seen her a few times in the 
distance. It is, then, impossible that this process should 
have its origin in that person : very often it may be a 
bread-and-butter miss, a stolid lump, more often a sensuous 
coquette, in whom no one can see the marvellous charac- 
teristics with which his love endows her, save her lover. 
Can any one believe that it is a concrete person who is 
loved ? Does she not in reality serve as the starting point 
for incomparably greater emotions than she could inspire ? 

In love, man is only loving himself. Not his empirical 
self, not the weaknesses and vulgarities, not the failings and 
smallnesses which he outwardly exhibits ; but all that he 
wants to be, all that he ought to be, his truest, deepest, in- 
telligible nature, free from all fetters of necessity, from all 
taint of earthy 

In his actual physical existence, this being is limited by 
space and time and by the shackles of the senses ; however 
deep he may look into himself, he finds himself damaged 
and spotted, and sees nowhere the image of speckless purity 
for which he seeks. And yet there is nothing he covets so 


much as to realise his own ideal, to find his real higher self. 
M.nd as he cannot find this true self within himself, he has 
to seek it without himself. He projects his ideal of an abso- 
lutely worthy existence, the ideal that he is unable to isolate 
within himself, upon another human being, and this act, and 
this alone, is none other than love and the significance of love. 
Only a person who has done wrong and is conscious of it 
can love, and so a child can never love. It is only because 
love represents the highest, most unattainable goal of all 
longing, because it cannot be realised in experience but 
must remain an idea ; only because it is localised on some 
other human being, and yet remains at a distance, so that 
the ideal never attains its realisation ; only because of such 
conditions can love be associated with the awakening of the 
desire for piirification, with the reaching after a goal that is 
purely spiritual, and so cannot be blemished by physical 
union with the beloved person ; only thus, is love the 
highest and strongest effort of the will towards the supreme 
good ; only thus does it bring the true being of man to a 
state between body and spirit, between the senses and the 
moral nature, between God and the beasts./ < A human being 
only finds himself when, in this fashion, he loves. And 
thus it comes about that only when they love do many men 
realise the existence of their own personality and of the 
personality of another, that " I " and '* thou " become for 
them more than grammatical expressions. And so also 
comes about the great part played in their love story by the 
names of the two lovers. There is no doubt but that it is 
through love that many men first come to know of their own 
real nature, and to be convinced that they possess a soul. 

It is this which makes a lover desire to keep his beloved 
at a distance — on no account to injure her purity by contact 
with him — in order to assure himself of her and of his own 
existence. Many an inflexible empiricist, coming under the 
influence of love, becomes an enthusiastic mystic ; the most 
striking example being Auguste Comte, the founder of 
positivism, whose whole theories were revolutionised by his 
feelings for Clotilde de Vaux. 


It is not only for the artist, but for the whol^ of mankind 
that Arno, ergo sum holds good psychologically/ 

Love is a phenomenon of projection just as' hate is, not a 
phenomenon of equation as friendship is. The latter pre- 
supposes an equality of both individuals : ^ove always 
implies inequality, disproportion/ To endow an individual 
with all that one might be and yet never can be, to make 
her ideal — that is love. Beauty is the symbol of this act 
of worship. It is this that so often surprises and angers a 
lover when he is convinced that beauty does not imply 
morality in a woman. He feels that the nature of the 
offence is increased by " such depravity " being possible in 
conjunction with such " beauty." He is not aware that 
the woman in question seems beautiful to him because he 
still loves her ; otherwise the incongruity between the ex- 
ternal and internal would no longer pain him. 

The reason an ordinary prostitute can never seem 
beautiful is because it is naturally impossible to endow her 
with the projection of value ; she can satisfy only the taste 
of vulgar minds. She is the mate of the worst sort of men. 
In this we have the explanation of a relation utterly opposed 
to morality : woman in general is simply indifferent to 
ethics, she is non-moral, and, therefore, unlike the anti- 
moral criminal, who is instinctively disliked, or the devil 
who is hideous in every one's imagination, serves as a 
receptacle for projected worthiness ; as she neither does 
good nor evil, she neither resists nor resents this imposition 
of the ideal on her personality. It is patent that woman's 
morality is acquired ; but this morality is man's, which he 
in an access of supreme love and devotion has conveyed 
to her. 

(^ince all beauty is always only the constantly renewed 
endeavour to embody the highest form of value, there is a 
pre-eminently satisfymg element in it, in the face of which 
all desire, all self-seeking fade away. 

All forms of beauty whfch appeal to man, by reason of 
the aesthetic function, are in reality also attempts on 
his part to realise the ideab Beauty is the symbol of 


perfection in being) Therefore beauty is inviolable ; it is 
static and not dynamic ; so that any alteration with regard 
to it upsets and annuls the idea of it. The desire of 
personal worthiness, the lo^^e of perfection, materialise in 
the idea of beauty. And so the beauty of nature is born, a 
beauty that the criminal can never know, as ethics first 
create nature. Thus it is that nature always and every- 
where, in its greatest and smallest forms, gives the impres- 
sion of perfection. The natural law is only the mortal 
symbol of the moral law, as natural beauty is the mani- 
festation of nobility of the soul ; logic thus becomes the 
embodiment of ethics ! Just as loves creates a new woman 
for man instead of the real woman, so art, the eroticism of 
the All, creates out of chaos the plenitude of forms in the 
universe ; and just as there is no natural beauty without 
form, without a law of nature, so also there is no art without 
form, no artistic beauty which does not conform to the 
laws of art. Natural beauty is no less a realisation of 
artistic beauty than the natural law is the fulfilment of the 
moral law, the natural reflection of that harmony whose 
image is enthroned in the soul of man. The nature which 
the artist regards as his teacher, is the law which he creates 
out of his own being^ 

I return to my own theme from these analyses of art, 
which are no more than elaborations of the thoughts of 
Kant and Schelling (and of Schiller writing under their 
influence). The main proposition for which I have argued 
is that man's belief m the morality of woman, his projection 
of his own soul upon her, and his conception of the woman 
as beautiful, are one and the same thing, the second being 
the sensuous side of the first. 

jit is thus intelligible, although an inversion of the truth, 
when, in morality, a beautiful soul is spoken of, or when, 
following Shaftesbury and Herbart, ethics are subordinated 
to aesthetics ; following Socrates and Plato we may identify 
the good and the beautiful, but we must not forget that 
beauty is only a bodily image in which morality tries to 
represent itself, that all aesthetics are created by ethics.J 


Every individual and temporal presentation of this 
attempted incarnation must necessarily be illusory, and can 
have no more than a fictitious reality. And so all indi- 
vidual cases of beauty are impermanent ; the love that is 
directed to a woman must perish with the age of the woman. 
The idea of beauty is the idea of nature and is permanent, 
whilst every beautiful thing, every part of nature, is perish- 
able. /The eternal can realise itself in the limited and the 
concrete only by an illusion ; it is self-deception to seek the 
fulness of love in a woman. As all love that attaches itself 
to a person must be impermanent, the love of woman is 
doomed to unhappiness. All such love has this source of 
failure inherent in it. It is an heroic attempt to seek for 
permanent worth where there is no worth. The love that 
is attached to enduring worth is attached to the absolute, 
to the idea of God, whether that idea be a pantheistic con- 
ception of enduring nature, or remain transcendental ; the 
love that attaches itself to an individual thmg, as to a 
woman, must fail.A 

/I have already partly explained why man takes this 
burden on himself. Just as hatred is a projection of our 
own evil qualities on other persons in order that we may 
stand apart from them and hate them ; just as the devil 
was invented to serve as a vehicle of all the evil impulses in 
man ; so love has the purpose of helping man in his battle 
for good, when he feels that he himself is not strong 
enough. Love and hate are alike forms of cowardice. In 
hate we picture to ourselves that our own hateful qualities 
exist in another, and by so doing we feel ourselves partly 
freed from them. In love we project what is good in us, 
and so having created a good and an evil image we are 
more able to compare and value themy 

Lovers seek their own souls in the loved ones, and so 
love is free from the limits I described in the first part of 
this book, not being bound down by the conditions of 
merely sexual attraction. In spite of their real opposition, 
there is an analogy between erotics and sexuality. Sexuality 
uses the woman as the means to produce pleasure and 


children of the body ; -erotics use her as the means to create 
worth and children of the soul. A little understood con- 
ception of Plato is full of the deepest meaning : that love is 
not directed towards beauty, but towards the procreation of 
beauty ; that it seeks to win immortality for the things of 
the mind, just as the lower sexual impulse is directed 
towards the perpetuation of the species/ 

It is more than a merely formal analogy, a superficial, 
verbal resemblance, to speak of the fruitfulness of the mind, 
of its conception and reproduction, or, in the words of 
Plato, to speak of the children of the soul. As bodily sexu- 
ality is the effort of an organic being to perpetuate its own 
form, so love is the attempt to make permanent one's own 
soul or individuality. Sexuality and love are alike the 
effort to realise oneself, the one by a bodily image, the 
other by an image of the soul. <But it is only the man of 
genius who can approach this entirely unsensuous love, and 
it is only he who seeks to produce eternal children in whom 
his deepest nature shall live for eve^'^ 

The parallel may be carried further. Since Novalis first 
called attention to it, many have insisted on the association 
between sexual desire and cruelty. All that" is born of 
woman must die. Reproduction, birth, and death are indis- 
solubly associated ; the thought of untimely death awakens 
sexual desire in its fiercest form, as the determination to 
reproduce oneself. And so sexual union, considered ethi- 
cally, psychologically, and biologically, is allied to murder ; 
it is the negation of the woman and the man ; in its extreme 
case it robs them of their consciousness to give life to the 
child. The highest form of eroticism, as much as the lowest 
form of sexuality, uses the woman not for herself but as 
means to an end — to preserve the individuality of the artist. 
(ij'he artist has used the woman merely as the screen on 
which to project his own idea\ 

The real psychology of the loved woman is always a 
matter of indifference. In the moment when a man loves 
a woman, he neither understands her nor wishes to under- 
stand her, although understanding is the only moral basis 


of association in mankind. A human being cannot love 
another that he fully understands, because he would then 
necessarily see the imperfections which are an inevitable 
part of the human individual, and love can attach itself 
only to perfection/) Love of a woman is possible only 
when it does not consider her real qualities, and so is able 
to replace the actual psychical reality by a different and 
quite imaginary reality, ^he attempt to realise one's ideal 
in a woman, instead of the woman herself, is a necessary 
destruction of the empirical personality of the woman. And 
so the attempt is cruel to the woman ; it is the egoism of 
love that disregards the woman, and cares nothing for her 
real inner life^> 

Thus the parallel between sexuality and love is complete. 
Love is murder. The sexual impulse destroys the body and 
mind of the woman, and the psychical eroticism destroys 
her psychical existence. Ordinary sexuality regards the 
woman only as a means of gratifying passion or of begetting 
children. The higher eroticism is merciless to the woman, 
requiring her to be merely the vehicle of a projected per- 
sonaHty, or the mother of psychical children. Love is not 
only anti-logical, as it denies the objective truth of the 
woman and requires only an illusory image of her, but it 
is anti-ethical with regard to her. 

I am far from despising the heights to which this 
eroticism may reach, as, for instance, in Madonna worship. 
Who could blind his eyes to the amazing phenomenon 
presented by Dante ? It was an extraordinary transference 
of his own ideal to the person of a concrete woman whom 
the artist had seen only once and when she was a young 
girl, and who for all he knew might have grown up into a 
Xantippe. (The complete neglect of whatever worth the 
woman herself might have had, in order that she might 
better serve as the vehicle of his projected conception of 
worthiness, was never more clearly exhibitecjf^ And the 
three-fold immorality of this higher eroticism becomes more 
plain than ever. It is an unlimited selfishness with regard 
to the actual woman, as she is wholly" rejected for the ideal 


woman. It is a felony towards the lover himself, inasmuch 
as he detaches virtue and worthiness from himself ; and it 
is a deliberate turning away from the truth, a preferring of 
sham to reality. 

The last form in which the immorality reveals itself is that 
love prevents the worthlessness of woman from being 
realised, inasmuch as it always replaced her by an imaginary 
projection. Madonna worship itself is fundamentally im- 
moral, inasmuch as it is a shutting of the eyes to truth. 
The Madonna worship of the great artists is a destruction 
of woman, and is possible only by a complete neglect of 
the women as they exist in experience, a replacement of 
actuality by a symbol, a re-creation of woman to serve the 
purposes of man, and a murder of woman as she exists. 
^' When a particular man attracts a particular woman the 
ir^fluence is not his beauty. Only man has an instinct for 
beauty, and the ideals of both manly beauty and of womanly 
beauty have been created by man, not by woman.N The 
qualities that appeal to a woman are the signs of developed 
sexuality; those that repel her are the qualities of the 
higher mind. Woman is essentially a phallus worshipper, 
and her worship is permeated with a fear like that of a bird 
for a snake, of a man for the fabled Medusa head, as she 
feels that the object of her adoration is the power that will 
destroy herj 

The course of my argument is now apparent. As logic 
and ethics have a relation only to man, it was not to be 
expected that woman would stand in any better position 
with regard to aesthetics. Esthetics and logic are closely 
interconnected, as is apparent in philosophy, in mathe- 
matics, in artistic work, and in music. I have now shown 
the intimate relation of aesthetics to ethics. As Kant 
showed, aesthetics, just as much as ethics and logic, depend 
on the free will of the subject. As the woman has not 
free will, she cannot have the faculty of projecting beauty 
outside herself. 

The foregoing involves the proposition that woman 
cannot love. Women have made no ideal of man to 


correspond with the male conception of the Madonna. 
What woman requires from man is not purity, chastity, 
morahty, but something else, -d^oman is incapable of 
desiring virtue in a man^ 

It is almost an insoluble riddle that woman, herself 
incapable of love, should attract the love of man. It has 
seemed to me a possible myth or parable, that in the begin- 
ning, when men became men by some miraculous act of 
God, a soul was bestowed only on them. Men, when they 
love, are partly conscious of this deep injustice to woman, 
and make the fruitless but heroic effort to give her their 
own soul. But such a speculation is outside the limits of 
either science or philosophy. 

[l have now shown what woman does not wish ; there 
remains to show what she does wish, and how this wi^h is 
diametrically opposed to the will of man} 


The nature of woman and her significance 
in the universe 

** Erst Mann und Weib zusammen 
Machen den Menschen aus," — Kant. 

The further we go in the analysis of woman's claim to 
esteem the more we must deny her of what is lofty and 
noble, great and beautiful. As this chapter is about to take 
the deciding and most extreme step in that direction, I 
should like to make a few remarks as to my position. The 
last thing I wish to advocate is the Asiatic standpoint with 
regard to the treatment of women. Those who have care- 
fully followed my remarks as to the injustice that all forms 
of sexuality and erotics visit on woman will surely see that 
this work is not meant to plead for the harem. But it 
is quite possible to desire the legal equality of men and 
women without believing in their moral and intellectual 
equality, just as in condemning to the utmost any harsh- 
ness in the male treatment of the female sex, one does not 
overlook the tremendous, cosmic, contrast and organic 
differences between them. There are no men in whom 
there is no trace of the transcendent, who are altogether 
bad ; and there is no woman of whom that could truly be 
said. However degraded a man may be, he is immeasur- 
ably above the most superior woman, so much so that 
comparison and classification of the two are impossible ; 
but even so, no one has any right to denounce or defame 
woman, however inferior she must be considered. A 
true adjustment of the claims for legal equality can be 


undertaken on no other basis than the recognition of a 
complete, deep-seated polar opposition of the sexes. I trust 
that I may escape confusion of my views as to woman with 
the superficial doctrine of P. J. Möbius — a doctrine only 
interesting as a brave reaction against the general tendency. 
Women are not " physiologically weak-minded," and I 
cannot share the view that women of conspicuous ability 
are to be regarded as morbid specimens. 

From a moral point of view one should only be glad to 
recognise in these women (who are always more masculine 
than the rest) the exact opposite of degeneration, that is to 
say, it must be acknowledged that they have made a step 
forward and gained a victory over themselves ; from the 
biological standpoint they are just as little or as much 
phenomena of degeneration as are womanish men (unethi- 
cally considered). Intermediate sexual forms are normal, 
not pathological phenomena, in all classes of organisms, 
and their appearance is no proof of physical decadence. 

/Woman is neither high-minded nor low-minded, strong- 
minded nor weak-minded. She is the opposite of all these. 
Mind cannot be predicated of her at all ; she is mindless. 
That, however, does not imply weak-mmdedness in the 
ordinary sense of the term, the absence of the capacity to 
"get her bearings" in ordinary everyday life. Cunning, 
calculation, "cleverness," are much more usual and con- 
stant in the woman than in the man, if there be a personal 
selfish end in view. A woman is never so stupid as a man 
can be.\ 

But has woman no meaning at all ? Has she no general 
purpose in the scheme of the world ? Has she not a 
destiny ; and, in spite of all her senselessness and emptiness, 
a significance in the universe ? 

Has she a mission, or is her existence an accident and 
an absurdity ? 

In order to understand her meaning, it is necessary to 
start from a phenomenon which, although old and well 
recognised, has never received its proper meed of con- 
sideration. It is from nothing more nor less than the 


phenomenon of match-making from which we may be able 
to infer most correctly the real nature of woman. 

Its analysis shows it to be the force which brings together 
and helps forward two people in their knowledge of one 
another, which helps them to a sexual union, whether in the 
form of marriage or not. This desire to brmg about an 
understanding between two people is possessed by all women 
from their earliest childhood ; the very youngest girls are 
always ready to act as messengers for their sisters' lovers. 
And if tlie instinct of match-making can be indulged in only 
after the particular woman in question has brought about 
her own consummation in marriage, it is none the less 
present before that time, and the only things which are at 
work against it are her jealousy of her contemporaries, and 
her anxiety about their chances with regard to her lover, 
until she has finally secured him by reason of her money,, 
her social position, and so forth. 

As soon as women have got rid of their own case by 
their own marriage, they hasten to help the sons and 
daughters of their acquaintances to marry. The fact that 
older women, in whom the desire for sexual satisfaction 
has died out, are such match-makers is so fully recog- 
nised that the idea has wrongly spread that they are the 
only real match-makers. 

They urge not only women but men to marry, a man's 
own mother often being the most active and persistent 
advocate of his marriage. It is the desire and purpose of 
every mother to see her son married, without any thought 
of his individual taste ; a wish which some have been 
blind enough to regard as another charm in maternal 
love, of which such a poor account was given in an earlier 
chapter. It is possible that many mothers may hope that 
their sons should obtain permanent happiness through 
marriage, however unfit they may be for it ; but un- 
doubtedly this hope is absent with the majority, and in 
any case it is the match-making instinct, the sheer objection 
to bachelordom, which is the strongest motive of all. 

It is clear that women obey a purely instinctive, 


inherent impulse, when they try to get their daughters 

It is certainly not for logical, and only in a small degree 
for material reasons, that they go to such lengths to attain 
their ends, and it is certainly not because of any desire ex- 
pressed by their daughters (very often it is in direct opposi- 
tion to the girl's choice) ; and since the match-making instinct 
is not confined to the members of a woman's own family, 
it is impossible to speak of it as being part of the '* altruistic " 
or " moral " attitude of maternal love ; although most 
women if they were charged with match-making projects 
would undoubtedly answer " that it is their duty to think 
of the future welfare of their dear children." 

A mother makes no difference in arranging a marriage 
for her own daughter and for any other girl, and is just as 
glad to do it for the latter if it does not mterfere with the 
interests of her own family ; it is the same thing, match- 
making throughout, and there is no psychological difference 
in making a match for her own daughter and doing the 
same thing for a stranger. I would even go so far as to say 
that a mother is not inconsolable if a «stranger, however 
common and undesirable, desires and seduces her daughter. 

The attitude of one sex to certain traits of the other can 
often be applied as a criterion as to how far certain pecu- 
liarities of character are exclusively the property of the one 
sex or are shared by the other. So far, we have had to deny 
to women many characters which they would gladly claim, 
but which are exclusively masculine ; in match-making^ 
however, we have a characteristic which is really and ex- 
clusively feminine, the exceptions being either in the case 
of very womanish men or else special instances which will 
be fully dealt with later on, in chap. xiii. Every real man 
will have nothing to do with this instinct in his wife, even 
when his own daughters, whom he would gladly see settled 
in life, are concerned ; he dislikes and despises the whole 
business, and leaves it entirely to his wife, as being altogether 
in her province. This is a striking instance of a purely 
feminine psychical characteristic, being not only unattractive 


to a man, but even repulsive to him when he is aware of it : 
while the male characteristics in themselves are sufficient 
to please the female, man has to denude woman of hers 
before he can love her. 

But the match-making instinct exerts a much deeper and 
more important influence on the nature of woman than can 
be gathered from the little I have said on this subject. I 
wish now to draw attention to woman's attitude at a play : 
she is always waiting to see if the hero and heroine, the 
lovers in the piece, will quarrel. This is nothing but match- 
making, and psychologically does not differ a hair from it : 
it is the ever present desire to see the man and woman 
united. But that is not all ; the tremendous excitement 
with which women await the crucial point in a decent or 
indecent book is due to nothing less than the desire to see 
the sexual union of the principal characters, and is coupled 
with an actual excitation at the thought, and positive 
appreciation of the force which is behind sexual union. It 
is not possible to state this formally and logically, the only 
thing is to try and understand how it is that the two things 
are psychologically one with women. The mother's ex- 
citement on her daughter's wedding-day is of the same 
quality as that engendered by reading a story by Prevost, or 
Sudermann's ** Katzensteg." It is quite true that men are 
very interested by novels which end in sexual union, but 
in quite a different way from women ; they thoroughly 
appreciate the sexual act in imagination, but they do not 
follow the gradual approach of the two people concerned 
from the very beginning ; and their interest does not grow, 
as woman's does, in constant proportion to the reciprocal 
value which the two people have for one another. 

The breathless pleasure with which the various obstacles 
are overcome, the feeling of disappointment at each 
thwarting of the sexual purpose, is altogether womanish 
and unmanly ; but it is always present with woman. She 
is continually on the watch for sexual developments, whether 
in real life or in literature. Has no one ever wondered 
why women are so keen and " disinterested " about bringing 


other men and women together ? 'QThe satisfaction they 
derive from it arises from a personal stimulus at the thought 
of the sexual union of others> 

But the full extent to which match-making influences the 
point of view of all women is not yet fully grasped. On 
a summer evening when lovers may be seen in dark 
corners of public places, or on the seats and banks round 
about, it is always the women who wilfully and curiously 
try to see what is happening, whilst men who have to pass 
that way do so unwillingly, looking the other way, because 
of a sense of intrusion. Just in the same way it is women 
who turn in the streets to look at nearly every couple they 
meet, and gaze after them. This espionage and turning 
round are none the less " match-making," because they are 
sub-conscious acts. If a man does not want to see a thing 
he turns his back on it, and does not look round ; but 
women are glad to see two people in love with one another, 
and take pleasure in surprising them in their love-making, 
because of their innate and super-personal desire that sexual 
union should occur. 

But man, as was seen much further back, only cares for 
that which has a positive value. A woman when she sees 
two lovers together is always awaiting developments, that 
is to say, she expects, anticipates, hopes, and desires an 
outcome. I know an elderly married woman who listened 
expectantly at the door for some time, when a servant of 
hers had allowed her sweetheart to come into her room, 
before ?he walked in and gave her notice. 

The idea of union is always eagerly grasped and never 
repelled whatever form it may take (even where animals are 
concerned).* She experiences no disgust at the nauseating 
details of the subject, and makes no attempt to think of 
anything pleasanter. This accounts for a great deal of 
what is so apparently mysterious in the psychic life of 
woman. Her wish for the activity of her own sexual life is 
her strongest impulse, but it is only a special case of her 

* The one apparent exception to this rule is fully discussed in 
this chapter. 



deep, her only vital interest, the interest that sexual unions 
shall take place ; the wish that as much of it as possible 
shall occur, in all cases, places, and times. 

This universal desire may either be concentrated on the 
act itself or on the (possible) child ; in the first case, the 
woman is of the prostitute type and participates merely for 
the sake of the act ; in the second, she is of the mother type, 
but not merely with the idea of bearing children herself ; 
she desires that every marriage she knows of or has helped 
to bring about should be fruitful, and the nearer she is to 
the absolute mother the more conspicuous is this idea ; the 
real mother is also the real grandmother (even if she remains 
a virgin ; Johann Tesman's marvellous portrayal of " Tante 
Jule" in Ibsen's " Hedda Gabler" is an example of what I 
mean). Every real mother has the same purpose, that of 
helping on matrimony ; she is the mother of all mankind ; 
she welcomes every pregnancy. 

The prostitute does not want other women to be with 
child, but to be prostitutes like herself. 

A woman's relations with married men show how she 
subordinates her own sexuality to her match-making in- 
stinct, the latter being the dominant power. 

Woman objects more strongly to bachelordom than any- 
thing else, because she is altogether a match-maker, and this 
makes her try to get men to marry ; but if a man is already 
married she at once loses most of her interest in him, how- 
ever much she liked him before. If the woman herself is 
already married, that is to say, when each man she meets is 
not a possible solution to her own fate, one would not 
imagine that a married man would find less favour with her 
because he was married than when he was a bachelor if 
the woman herself is unfaithful ; but women seldom carry 
on an intrigue with another woman's husband, except 
when they wish to triumph over her by making him neglect 
her. This shows that the disposition of woman is towards 
the fact of pairing ; when men are already paired she 
seldom attempts to make them unfaithful, for the fact of their 
being paired has satisfied her instinct. 


V^This match-making is the most common characteristic of 
the human female ; the wish to become a mother-in-law is 
much more general than even the desire to become a mother, 
the intensity and extent of which is usually over-rate(5i 

My readers may possibly not understand the emphasis I 
have laid on a phenomenon which is usually looked upon 
as amusing as it is disgusting ; and it may be thought that 
I have given undue importance to it. 

But let us see why I have done so. Match-making is 
essentially the phenomenon of all others which gives us the 
key to the nature of woman, and we must not, as has always 
been the case, merely acknowledge the fact and pass on, 
but we should try to analyse and explain it. One of our 
commonest phrases runs : " Every woman is a bit of a 

But we must remember that in this, and nothing else, lies 
the actual essence of woman. After mature consideration 
of the most varied types of women and with due regard 
to the special classes besides those which I have dis- 
cussed, I am of opinion that the only positively general 
female characteristic is that of match-making,<^that is, her 
uniform willingness to further the idea of sexual unior^. 

Any definition of the nature of woman which goes no 
further than to declare that she has the strong instinct for 
her own union would be too narrow ; any definition that 
would link her instincts to the child or to the husband, or 
to both, would be too wide. The most general and com- 
prehensive statement of the nature of woman is that it is 
completely adapted and disposed for the special mission of 
aiding and abetting the bodily union of the sexes. All 
women are match-makers, and this property of the woman 
to be the advocate of the idea of pairing is the only one 
which is found in women of all ages, in youn^ girls, in 
adults, and in the aged. The old woman is no longer 
interested in her own union, but she devotes herself to the 
pairing of others. This habit of the old woman is nothing 
new, it is only the continuance of her enduring instinct 
surviving the complications that were caused when her 


personal interests came into conflict with her general desire ; 
it is the now unselfish pursuit of the impersonal idea. 

It is convenient to recapitulate at this point what my 
investigation has shown as to the sexuality of women. /I 
have shown that woman is engrossed exclusively by 
sexuality, not intermittently, but throughout her life ; that 
her whole being, bodily and mental, is nothing but sexu- 
ality itself. I added, moreover, that she was so constituted 
that her whole body and being continually were in sexual 
relations with her environment, and that just as the sexual 
organs were the centre of woman physically, so the sexual 
idea was the centre of her mental nature^ The idea of pairing 
is the only conception which has positive worth for women. 
The woman is the bearer of the thought of the continuity 
of the species. The high value which she attaches to the 
idea of pairing is not selfish and individual, it is super- 
individual, and, if I may be forgiven the desecration of the 
phrase, it is the transcendental function of woman. And 
just as femaleness is no more than the embodiment of the 
idea of pairing, so is it sexuality in the abstract. Pairing is 
the supreme good for the woman ; she seeks to effect it 
always and everywhere. Her personal sexuality is only a 
special case of this universal, generalised, impersonal 

The effort of woman to realise this idea of pairing is so 
fundamentally opposed to that conception of innocence 
and purity, the higher virginity which man's erotic nature 
has demanded from women, that not all his erotic incense 
would have obscured her real nature but for one factor. I 
have now to explain this factor which has veiled from man 
the true nature of woman, and which in itself is one of the 
deepest problems of woman, I mean her absolute duplicity. 
Her pairing instinct and her duplicity, the latter so great as 
to conceal even from woman herself what is the real 
essence of her nature, must be explained together. 

All that may have seemed like clear gain is now again 
called into question. Self-observation was found lacking 
in women, and yet there certainly are women who observe 


very closely all that happens to them. They were denied 
the love of truth, and yet one knows many women who 
would not tell a lie for anything. It has been said that 
they are lacking in consciousness of guilt ; but there are 
many women who reproach themselves bitterly for most 
trifling matters, besides " penitents " who mortify their 
flesh. Modesty was left to man, but what is to be said of 
the womanly modesty, that bashfulness, which, according to 
Hamerling, only women have ? Is there no foundation for 
the way in which the idea has grown and found such 
acceptance ? And then again : Can religion be absent, in 
spite ot so many " professing " women ? Are we to exclude 
all women from the moral purity, all the womanly virtues, 
which poets and historians have ascribed to her ? Are we 
to say that woman is merely sexual, that sexuality only 
receives its proper due from her when it is so well known 
that women are shocked at the slightest allusion to sexual 
matters, that instead of giving way to it they are often 
irritated and disgusted at the idea of impurity, and quite 
often detest sexual union for themselves and regard it just 
as many men do ? 

It is, of course, manifest that one and the same point is 
bound up in all these antitheses, and on the answer given 
to them depends the finai and decisive judgment on 
woman. And it is clear that if only one single female 
creature were really asexual, or could be shown to have a 
real relationship to the idea of personal moral worth, every- 
thing that I have said about woman, its general value as 
psychically characteristic of the sex, would be irretrievably 
demolished, and the whole position which this book has 
taken up would be shattered at one blow. 

These apparently contradictory phenomena must be 
satisfactorily explained, and it must be shown that what is 
at the bottom ot it ail and makes it seem so equivocal arises 
from the very nature of woman whicti 1 have been trying 
to explain all along. 

In order to understand these fallacious contradictions 
one must first of all remember the tremendous " accessi- 


bility," to use another word, the " impressionability," of 
women, -^heir extraordinary aptitude for anything new, 
and their easy acceptance of other people's views have not 
yet been sufficiently emphasised in this bool^ 

/As a rule, the woman adapts herself to the man, his 
views become hers, his likes and dislikes are shared by 
her, every word he says is an incentive to her, and the 
stronger his sexual influence on her the more this is so. 
Woman does not perceive that this influence which 
man has on her causes her to deviate from the line 
of her own development ; she does not look upon it as a 
sort of unwarrantable intrusion ; she does not try to shake 
off what is really an invasion of her private life ; she is not 
ashamed of being receptive ; on the contrary, she is really 
pleased when she can be so, and prefer^ man to mould her 
mentally. She rejoices in being dependent, and her 
expectatioiis-fr£) resolve themselves i nto the m oment 
w hen she may_ bg_p£if£cily43assi-ve. 

But it is not only from her lover (although she would 
like that best), but also from her father and mother, uncles 
and aunts, brothers and sisters, near relations and distant ac- 
quaintances, that a woman takes what she thinks and believes, 
being only too glad to get her opinions " ready made." 

It is not only inexperienced girls but even elderly and 
married women who copy each other in everj'thing, from 
the nice new dress or pretty coiffure down to the places 
where they get their things, and the very recipes by which 
they cook. 

And it never seems to occur to them that they are doing 
something derogatory on their part, as it ought to do if 
they possessed an individuality of their own and strove to 
work out their own salvation. A woman's thoughts and 
actions have no definite, independent relations to things in 
themselves ; they are not the result of the reaction of her 
individuality to the world. They accept what is imposed 
on them gladly, and adhere to it with the greatest firmness. 
That is why woman is so intolerant when there has been a 
breach of conventional laws. I must guote an amusing 


instance, bearing on this side of woman's character, from 
Herbert Spencer. It is the custom in various tribes of 
Indians in North and South America for the men to hunt 
and fight and leave all the laborious and menial tasks to 
their wives. The Dakotan women are so imbued with the 
idea of the reasonableness and fitness of this arrangement 
that, instead of feeling injured by it, the greatest insult that 
one of these women can offer to another would be implied 
in some such words as follows ; " You disgraceful creature. 
... I saw your husband carrying home wood for the fires. 
What was his wife doing that he had to demean himself by 
doing woman's work ? " 

<^ The extraordinary way in which woman can be influenced 
b^ external agencies is similar in its nature to her suggesti- 
bility, which is far greater and more general than man's ; 
they are both in accordance with woman's desire to play 
the passive and never the active part in the sexual act and 
all that leads to it.*.\ 

It is the universal passivity of woman's nature which 
makes her accept and assume man's valuations of things, 
although these are utterly at variance with her nature. 
The way in which woman can be impregnated with the 
masculine point of view, the saturation of her innermost 
thoughts with a foreign element, her false recognition of 
morahty, which cannot be called hypocrisy because it does 
not conceal anything anti-moral, her assumption and prac- 
tise of things which in themselves are not in her realm, are 
all very well if the woman does not try to use her own 
judgment, and they succeed in keeping up the fiction of 
her superior morality. Complications first arise when these 
acquired valuations come into collision with the only inborn, 
genuine, and universally feminine valuation, the supreme 
value she sets on pairing. 

Woman's acceptance of pairing as the supreme good is 
quite unconscious on her part. As she has no sense of 

* The quiescent, inactive, large egg-cells are sought out by the 
mobile, active, and slender spermatozoa. 


individuality she has nothing to contrast with oairing ; and 
so, unlike man, she cannot realise its significance, or even 
notice the presence in herself of this instinct. 

No woman knows, or ever has known, or ever will 
know, what she does when she enters into association with 
man. Femaleness is identical with pairing, and a woman 
would have to get outside herself in order to see and under- 
stand that she pairs. Thus it is that the deepest desire of 
woman, all that she means, and all that she is, remain 
unrecognised by her. There is nothing, then, to prevent 
the male negative valuation of pairing overshadowing the 
female positive valuation of it in the consciousness of the 
woman. The susceptibility of woman is so great that 
she can even act in opposition to what she is, to the one 
thing on which she really sets a positive value ! 

But the imposture which she enacts when she allows 
herself to be incorporated with man's opinions of sexuality 
and shamelessness, even of the miposture itself, and when 
she uses the masculine standard for her actions, is such a 
colossal fraud that she is never conscious of it ; she has 
acquired a second nature, without even guessing that it is 
not her real one ; she takes herself seriously, believes she is 
something and that she believes in something ; she is con- 
vinced of the sincerity and originality of her moralisings and 
opinions; the lie is as deeply rooted as that; it is organic. I 
cannot do better than speak of the ontological untruthfulness 
of woman. 

Wolfram von Eschenbach says of his hero : 

" . . .So keusch und rein 
Ruht' er bei seiner Königin, 
Dass kein Genügen fand' darin 
So manches Weib beim lieben Mann. 
Dass doch so manche in Gedanken 
Zur Üppigkeit will überschwanken, 
Die sonst sich spröde zeigen kann ! 
Vor Fremden züchtig sie erscheinen. 
Doch ist des Herzens tiefstes Meinen 
Das Widerspiel vom äussern Schein." 

Wolfram indicates clearly enough what is at the bottom 


of woman's heart, but he does not say all that is to be said. 
Women deceive themselves as well as others on this point. 
One cannot artificially suppress and supplant one's real 
nature, the physical as well as the other side, without some- 
thing happening. The hygienic penalty that must be paid 
for woman's denial of her real nature is hysteria. 

Of all the neurotic and psychic phenomena, those of 
hysteria are the most fascinating for psychologists ; they 
represent a far more difficult and, therefore, a more interest- 
ing study than those observed in melancholia or in simple 

The majority of psychiatrists have a distrust of psycho- 
logical analyses which it is not easy for them to shake off ; 
every statement of pathological alteration of tissues or 
intoxication by certain means is for them a limine credible ; 
it is only in psychical matters that they refuse to recognise 
a primary cause. But since no reason has so far been 
given why psychical phenomena should be of importance 
secondary to physical phenomena, it is quite justifiable to 
disregard such prejudices. 

It is quite possible — there is nothing to prevent it being 
so — that a very great deal, perhaps everything, may depend 
on the proper interpretation of the " psychical mechanism " 
of hysteria. That this is so is proved by the fact that the 
few conclusions of any value with reference to hysteria so 
far discovered have been arrived at in this way ; the inves- 
tigations carried out by Pierre Janet, Oskar Vogt, and 
particularly by J. Breuer and S. Freud, show what I mean. 
All good work on hysteria will undoubtedly follow the lines 
these men have worked on ; that is to say, by investigation 
of the psychological processes which led up to the disease. 

I believe myself that what may be called a psycho- 
logical sexual traumatism is at the root of hysteria. The 
typical picture of a hysterical case is not very different 
from the following : A woman has always accepted the 
male views on sexual matters ; they are in reality totally 
foreign to her nature, and sometime, by some chance, out of 
the conflict between what her nature asserts to be true and 


what she has always accepted as true and beUeved to be 
true, there comes what may be called a " wounding of the 
mind." It is thus possible for the person affected to declare 
a sexual desire to be an " extraneous body in her conscious- 
ness," a sensation which she thinks she detests, but which 
in reality has its origin in her own nature. The tremendous 
intensity with which she endeavours to suppress the desire 
(and which only serves to increase it) so that she may the 
more vehemently and indignantly reject the thought — these 
are the alternations which are seen in hysteria. And the 
chronic untruthfulness of woman becomes acute if the 
woman has ever allowed herself to be imbued with man's 
ethically negative valuation of sexuality. It is well known 
that hysterical women manifest the strongest suggestibility 
with men. Hysteria is the organic crisis of the organic 
untruthfulness of woman. 

I do not deny that there are hysterical men, but these are 
comparatively few ; and since man's psychic possibilities 
are endless, that of becoming "female " is amongst them, 
and, therefore, he can be hysterical. There are undoubtedly 
many untruthful men, but in them the crisis takes a different 
form, man's untruthfulness being of a different kind and 
never so hopeless in character as woman's. 

This examination mto the organic untruthfulness of 
woman, into her inability to be honest about herself which 
alone makes it possible for her to think that she thinks 
what is really totally opposed to her nature, appears to me 
to offer a satisfactory explanation of those difficulties which 
the aetiology of hysteria present. 

Hysteria shows that untruthfulness, however far it may 
reach, cannot suppress everything. By education or environ- 
ment woman adopts a whole system of ideas and valuations 
which are foreign to her, or, rather, has patiently submitted 
to have them impressed on her ; and it would need a 
tremendous shock to get rid of this strongly-rooted psychical 
complexity, and to transplant woman to that condition of 
intellectual helplessness which is so characteristic of 


An extraordinary shock suffices to destroy the artificial 
structure, and to place woman in the arena to undertake a 
fight between her unconscious, oppressed nature, and her 
certainly conscious but unnatural mind. The see-sawing 
which now begins between the two explains the unusual 
psychic discontinuity during the hysterical phase, the con- 
tinual changes of mood, none of which are subject to the 
control of a dominant, central, controlling nucleus of indi- 
viduality. It is extraordinary how many contradictions 
can co-exist in the hysterical. Sometimes they are highly 
intelligent and able to judge correctly and keenly oppose 
hypnotism and so forth. Then, again, they are excited by 
most trivial causes, and are most subject to hypnotic trances. 
Sometimes they are abnormally chaste, at other times 
extremely sensual. 

All this is no longer difficult to explain. The absolute 
sincerity, the painful love of truth, the avoidance of every- 
thing sexual, the careful judgment, and the strength of 
will — all these form part of that spurious personality which 
woman in her passivity has taken upon herself to exhibit 
to herself and to the world at large. Everything that 
belongs to her original temperament and her real sense 
form that " other self," that " unconscious mind " which can 
delight in obscurities and which is so open to suggestion. 

It has been endeavoured to show that in what is known 
as the " duplex " and " multiplex personality," the " double 
conscience," the " dual ego," lies one of the strongest 
arguments against the belief in the soul. As a matter 
of fact, these phenomena are the very reasons why we 
ought to believe in a soul. The " dividing up of the 
personality " is only possible when there never has been 
a personality, as with woman. All the celebrated cases 
which Janet has described in his book, " L'Automatisme 
Psychologique," concern women, not in a single instance 
man. It is only woman who, minus soul or an intelligible 
ego, has not the power to become conscious of what is in 
her ; who cannot throw the light of truth on her inmost 
self ; who can by her completely passive inundation by a 


consciousness belonging to another, allow what is in her 
own nature to be suppressed by an extraneous element ; 
who can display the hysterical phenomena described by 
Janet. Hysteria is the bankruptcy of this superficial sham 
self which has been put on, and the woman becomes for 
the time being a tabula rasa, whilst the working in her of 
her own genuine nature appears to her as something coming 
from without. This apparent " secondary personality," this 
" foreign body in the consciousness," this false self, is, in 
reality, the true female nature, sexuality itself appearing, 
and a proper understanding of this fact, and of the com- 
plications that must ensue from the ebbings and fiowings of 
the false, supposed to be true, and the true supposed to be 
false, lie at the root of the most difficult phenomena of 

Woman's incapacity for truth — which I hold to be con- 
sequent on her lack of free will with regard to the truth, in 
accordance with Kant's " Indetermmism " — conditions her 
falsity. Any one who has had anything to do with women 
knows how often they give offhand quite patently untrue 
reasons for what they have said or done, under the momen- 
tary necessity of answering a question. It is, however, 
hysterical subjects who are most careful to avoid unveracity 
(in a most marked and premeditated way before strangers) ; 
but however paradoxical it may sound it is exactly in this 
that their untruthfulness lies ! They do not know that this 
desire for truth has come to them from outside and is no 
part of their real nature. 

They have slavishly accepted the postulate of morality, 
and, therefore, wish to show at every opportunity, like a good 
servant, how faithfully they follow instructions. 

It is always suspicious when a man is frequently spoken 
of as exceptionally trustworthy : he must have gone out of 
his way to let people know it, and it would be safe to wager 
that in reahty he is a rogue. No confidence must be placed 
in the genuineness of hysterical morality, which doctors (no 
doubt in good faith) often emphasise by remarks as to 
the high moral position of their patients. 


I repeat : hysterical patients do not consciously simulate. 
It can only be made clear to them by suggestion that they 
actually have been simulating, and all the " confessions" of 
the dissimulation can only be explained in the same way. 
Otherwise they believe in their own natural honesty and 
morality. Neither are the various things which torture 
them imaginary; it is much more likely that in the fact 
that they feel them, and that the symptoms first disappear 
with what Breuer calls "catharsis " (the successive bringing 
to their consciousness of the true causes of their illness by 
hypnotism), lies the proof of their organic untruthfulness. 

The self-accusations which hysterical people are so full 
of are nothing but unconscious dissimulation. The sense 
of guilt, which is equally poignant in great and most 
trifling things, cannot be genuine ; if the hysterical self- 
torturers possessed a standard of morality for themselves 
and others they would not be so indiscriminate in their 
self-accusations, and not cast as much blame on themselves 
for a slight error as for real wrong-doing. 

The most distingishing character of the unconscious un- 
truthfulness of their self-reproaches is their habit of telling 
others how wicked they are, what terrible things they have 
done, and then they ask if they (the hysterical) are not hope- 
lessly abandoned sort of people. No one who really feels 
remorse could talk in such a way. The fallacy of repre- 
senting the hysterical as being eminently moral is one which 
even Breuer and Freud have shared. The h^^sterical simply 
become imbued with moral ideas which are foreign to them 
in their normal state. They subordinate themselves to this 
code, they cease to prove things for themselves, they no 
longer exercise their own judgment. 

Probably these hysterical subjects approach more closely 
than any other natures to the moral ideal of the social and 
utilitarian ethics which regard a lie as moral if it is for the 
good of society or of the race. Hysterical women realise 
that ideal ontogenetically inasmuch as their standard of 
morality comes from without, not from within, and prac- 
tically as they appear to act most readily from altruistic 


motives. For them duty towards others is not merely 
a special application of duty towards oneself. 

The untruthfulness of the hysterical is proportional to 
their belief in their own accuracy. From their complete 
inability to attain personal truth, to be honest about them- 
selves — the hysterical never think for themselves, they want 
other people to think about them, they want to arouse the 
interest of others — it follows that the hysterical are the 
best mediums for hypnotic purposes. But any one who 
allows him or herself to be hypnotised is doing the most 
immoral thing possible. It is yielding to complete slavery ; 
it is a renunciation of the will and consciousness ; it means 
allowing another person to do what he likes with the sub- 
ject. Hypnosis shows how all possibility of truth depends 
upon the wish to be truthful, but it must be the real wish of 
the person concerned : when a hypnotised person is told to 
do something, he does it when he comes out of the trance, 
and if asked his reasons will give a plausible motive on the 
spot, not only before others, but he will justify his action 
to himself by quite fanciful reasons. In this we have, so to 
speak, an experimental proof of Kant's " Ethical Code." 

All women can be hypnotised and like being hypnotised, 
but this proclivity is exaggerated in hysterical women. 
Even the memory of definite events in their life can be 
destroyed by the mere suggestion of the hypnotiser. 
Breuer's experiments on hypnotised patients show clearly 
that the consciousness of guilt in them is not deeply seated, 
as otherwise it could not be got rid of at the mere sugges- 
tion of the hypnotiser. But the sham conviction of 
responsibility, so readily exhibited by women of hysterical 
constitution, rapidly disappears at the moment when nature, 
the sexual impulse, appears to drive through the superficial 
restraints. In the hysterical paroxysm what happens is that 
the woman, while no longer believing it altogether herself, 
asseverates more and more loudly : "I do not want 
that at all, some one not really me is forcing it on me, but 
I do not want it at all." Every stimulation from outside 
will now be brought into relation with that demand, which. 


as she partly believes, is being forced on her, but which, in 
reality, corresponds with the deepest wish of her nature. 
That is why women in a hysterical attack are so easily 
seduced. The " attitudes passionelles " of the hysterical 
are merely passionate repudiations of sexual desire, which are 
loud merely because they are not real, and are more plaintive 
than at other times because the danger is greater. It is 
easy to understand why the sexual experiences of the time 
preceding puberty play so large a part in acute hysteria. 
The influence of extraneous moral views can be imposed 
comparatively easily on the child, as they have little to 
overcome in the almost unawakened state of the sexual incli- 
nations. But, later on, the suppressed, although not wholly 
vanquished, nature lays hold of these old experiences, rein- 
terprets them in the light of the new contents of conscious- 
ness, and the crisis takes place. The different forms that 
the paroxysms assume and their shifting nature are due very 
largely to the fact that the subject does not admit the true 
cause, the presence of a sexual desire, any consciousness of 
it being attributed by her to some extraneous influence, 
some self that is not her " real self." 

Medical observation or interpretation of hysteria is wrong ; 
it allows itself to be deceived by the patients, who in turn 
deceive themselves. It is not the rejecting ego but the 
rejected which is the true and original nature of the hysterical 
patients, however much they pretend to themselves and 
others that it is foreign to them. 

If the rejecting ego were really their natural ego they 
could act in opposition to the disturbing element which 
they say is foreign to them, and be fully conscious of it, and 
differentiate and recognise it in their memory. But the 
fraud is evident, because the rejecting ego is only borrowed, 
and they lack the courage to look their own desire in the 
face, although something seems to say that it is the real, 
inborn, and only powerful one they have. Even the desire 
itself has no real identity, for it is not seated in a real indi- 
vidual, and, as it is suppressed, leaps, so to speak, from one 
part of the body to the other. It may be that my attempt 


at an explanation will be thought fanciful, but at least it 
appears to be true that the various forms of hysteria are 
one and the same thing. This one thing is what the 
hysterical patient will not admit is part of hei, although it 
is what is pressing on her. If she were able to ascribe it to 
herself and criticise it in the way in which she admits trivial 
matters of another kind, she would be in a measure outside 
and above her own experiences. The frantic rage of hys- 
terical women at what they say is imposed on them by some 
strange will, whilst it in reality is their own will, shows that 
theyare just as much under the domination of sexuality as are 
non-hysterical women, are just as subject to their destiny 
and incapable of avertmg it, since they, too, are without 
any intelligible, free ego. 

But it may be asked, with reason, why all women are not 
hysterical, since all women are liars ? This brings us to a 
necessary inquiry as to the hysterical constitution. If my 
theory has been on the right lines, it ought to be able to 
give an answer in accordance with facts. According to it, 
the hysterical woman is one who has passively accepted in 
entirety the masculine and conventional valuations instead 
of allowing her own mental character its proper play. The 
woman who is not to be led is the antithesis of the hysterical 
woman. I must not delay over this point ; it really belongs 
to special female characterology. The hysterical woman is 
hysterical because she is servile ; mentally she is identical 
with the maid-servant. Her opposite (who does not really 
exist) is the shrewish dame. So that women may be sub- 
divided into the maid who serves, and the woman who 

The servant is born and not made, and there are many 
women in good circumstances who are *' born servants," 
although they never need to put their rightful position to 

* We may find the analogy to this in men : there are masculine 
" servants " who are so by nature, and there is the masculine 
form of the shrew — e.g., the policeman. It is a noticeable 
fact that a policeman usually finds his sexual complement in the 


the test ! The servant and the mistress are a sort of " com- 
plete woman " when considered as a "whole."* 

The consequences of this theory are fully borne out by 
experience. The Xanthippe is the woman who has the 
least resemblance to the hysterical type. She vents her 
spleen (which is really the outcome of unsatisfied sexual 
desires) on others, whereas the hysterical woman visits 
hers on herself. The " shrew " detests other women, the 
" servant " detests herself. The drudge weeps out her woes 
alone, without really feeling lonely — loneliness is identical 
with morality, and a condition which implies true duality or 
manifoldness ; the shrew hates to be alone because she 
must have some one to scold, whilst hysterical women vent 
their passion on themselves. The shrew lies openly and 
boldly but without knowing it, because it is her nature to 
think herself always in the right, and she insults those who 
contradict her. The servant submits wonderingly to the 
demands made of her which are so foreign to her nature : 
the hypocrisy of this pliant acquiescence is apparent in her 
hysterical attacks when the conflict with her own sexual 
emotions begins. It is because of this receptivity and sus- 
ceptibility that hysteria and the hysterical type of woman 
are so leniently dealt with : it is this type, and not the 
shrewish type, that will be cited in opposition to my views.f 

Untruthfulness, organic untruthfulness, characterises both 
types, and accordingly all women. It is quite wrong to say 

* A real dame would never dream of asking her husband what 
she was to do, what she is to give him for dinner, &c. ; the hysteri- 
cal woman, on the contrary, is always lacking in ideas, and wants 
suggestions from others. This is a rough way of indicating the 
two types. 

f It is the " yielding type " and not the virago type of woman 
that men think capable of love. Such a woman's love is only the 
mental sense of satisfaction aroused by the maleness of some parti- 
cular man, and, therefore, it is only possible with the hysterical ; it 
has nothing to do with her individual power of loving, and can have 
nothing to do with it. The bashfulness of woman is also due to 
her " obsession " by one man ; this also causes her neglect of all 
other men. 


that women lie. That would imply that they sometimes 
speak the truth. Sincerity, pro foro interno et externo, is the 
virtue of all others of which women are absolutely incapable, 
which is impossible for them ! 

The point I am urging is that woman is never genuine at 
any period of her life, not even when she, in hysteria, 
slavishly accepts the aspect of truth laid on her by another, 
and apparently speaks in accordance with those demands. 

A woman can laugh, cry, blush, or even look wicked at 
will : the shrew, when she has some object in view ; the 
" maid," when she has to make a decision for herself. Men 
have not the organic and physiological qualifications for 
such dissimulation. 

If we are able to show that the supposed love of truth 
in these types of woman is no more than their natural 
hypocrisy in a mask, it is only to be expected that all the 
other qualities for which woman has been praised will suffer 
under analysis. Her modesty, her self-respect, and her 
religious fervour are loudly acclaimed. Womanly modesty, 
none the less, is nothing but prudery, i.e., an extravagant 
denial and rejection of her natural immodesty. Whenever 
a woman evinces any trace of what could really be called 
modesty, hysteria is certainly answerable for it. The woman 
who is absolutely unhysterical and not to be influenced, 
i.e., the absolute shrew, will not be ashamed of any re- 
proaches her husband may shower on her, however just ; 
incipient hysteria is present when a woman blushes under 
her husband's direct censure ; but hysteria in its most 
marked form is present when a woman blushes when she 
is quite alone : it is only then that she may be said to be 
fully impregnated with the masculine standard of values. 

The women who most nearly approximate to what has 
been called sexual anaethesia or frigidity are always 
hysterical, as Paul Solliers, with whom I entirely agree, 
discovered. Sexual anaesthesia is merely one of the 
many hysterical, that is to say, unreal, simulated forms of 
anaesthesia. Oskar Vogt, in particular (and general obser- 
vation has confirmed him), proved that such anaesthesia 


does not involve a real lack of sensation, but is simply due 
to an inhibition which keeps certain sensations in check, and 
excludes them from the consciousness. 

If the anaesthetised arm of a hypnotised subject is pricked 
a certain number of times, and the medium is told to say 
how many times he has been pricked, he is able to do so, 
although otherwise he would not have perceived them. So 
also with sexual frigidity ; it is an order given by the con- 
trolling force of the super-imposed asexual ideas; but this, 
like all other forms of anaesthesia, can be counteracted by a 
sufficiently strong " order." 

The repulsion to sexuality in general shown by the 
hysterical woman corresponds in its nature with her 
insensibility to sexual matters in her own case. Such a 
repulsion, an intense disinclination for everything sexual, 
is really present in many women, and this may be urged 
as an exception to my generalisation as to the universality 
in woman of the match-making tendency. But women 
who are made ill by discovering two people in sexual inter- 
course are always hysterical. In this we have a special 
justification of the theory which holds match-making to be 
the true nature of woman, and which looks upon her own 
sexuality as merely a special case of it. A woman may 
be made hysterical not only by a sexual suggestion to herself 
which she outwardly resists whilst inwardly assenting to it, 
but may be just as much so by the sight of two people in 
sexual intercourse, for, though she thinks the matter has no 
value for her, her inborn assent to it forces itself through 
all outward and artificial barriers, and overcomes the super- 
imposed and incorporated method of thought in which she 
usually lives. That is to say, she feels herself involved in 
the sexual union of others. 

Something similar takes place in the hysterical " conscious- 
ness of guilt," which has already been spoken about. The 
absolute shrew never feels herself really in the wrong ; 
the woman who is slightly hysterical only feels so in the 
presence of men ; the woman who is thoroughly hysterical 
feels it in the presence of the particular man who dominates 


her. One cannot prove the existence of a sense of guilt in 
woman by the mortifications to which " devotees " and 
" penitents" subject themselves. It is these extreme cases 
of self-discipline which make one suspicious. Doing 
penance proves, in most cases, that the doer has not over- 
come his fault, that the sense of guilt has not really entered 
consciousness ; it appears really to be much rather an 
attempt to force repentance from the outside, to make up for 
not really feeling it. 

The difference between the conviction of guilt in 
hysterical women and in men, and the origin of the 
self-reproaches of the former, are of some importance. 
When the hysterical woman realises that she has done or 
thought something immoral, she tries to rectify it by 
some code which she seeks to obey and to substitute in 
her mind in place of the immoral thought. She does not 
really get rid of the thought which is too deeply rooted in 
her nature ; she does not really face it, try to understand 
it, and so purge herself of it. She simply, from point to 
point, case by case, tries to adhere to the moral code without 
ever transforming herself, reforming her idea. The moral 
character in the woman is elaborated bit by bit ; in the male 
right conduct comes from moral character. The vow re- 
models the whole man ; the change takes place in the only 
possible way, from within outwards, and leads to a real 
morality which is not only a justification by works. The 
morality of the woman is merely superficial and is not real 

The current opinion that woman is religious is equally 
erroneous. Female mysticism, when it is anything more 
than mere superstition, is either thinly veiled sexuality (the 
identification of the Deity and the lover has been frequently 
discussed, as, for instance, in Maupassant's " Bel-Ami," or in 
Hauptmann's " Hannele's Himmelfahrt") as in numberless 
spiritualists and theosophists, or it is a mere passive and 
unconscious acceptance of man's religious views which are 
clung to the more firmly because of woman's natural 
disinclination for them. The lover is readily transformed 


into a Saviour ; very readily (as is well known to be the 
case with many nuns) the Saviour becomes the lover. All 
the great women visionaries known to history were hys- 
terical ; the most famous, Santa Teresa, was not misnamed 
"the patron saint of hysteria." At any rate, if woman's 
religiousness were genuine, and if it proceeded from her 
own nature, she would have done something great in the 
religious world ; but she never has done anything of any 
importance. I should like to put shortly what I take to 
be the difference between the masculine and feminine 
creeds ; man's religion consists in a supreme belief in him- 
self, woman's in a supreme belief in other people. 

There is left to consider the self-respect which is often 
described as being so highly developed in the hysterical. That 
it is only man's self-respect which has been so thoroughly 
forced into woman, is clear from its nature and the way it 
shows itself, as Vogt, who extended and verified experiments 
first made by Freud, discovered from self-respect under 
hypnotism. The extraneous masculine will creates by its 
influence a "self-respecting" subject in the hypnotised 
woman by inducing a limitation of the field of the un- 
hypnotised state. Apart from suggestion, in the ordinary 
life of the hysterical it is only the man with whom they 
are " impregnated " who is respected in them. Any 
knowledge of human nature which women have comes 
from their absorption of the right sort of man. In the 
paroxysms of hysteria this artificial self-respect disappears 
with the revolt of oppressed nature. 

This is quite parallel to the clairvoyance of hysterical 
mediums, which is undoubted, but has as little to do with 
"occult" spiritism as the ordinary hypnotic phenomena. 
Just as Vogt's patients made strenuous efforts to observe 
themselves carefully under the powerful will of the 
suggestor, the clairvoyante, under the influence of the 
dominating voice of the man who is imposing his will on 
her, is capable of telepathic performances, and at his 
command can, blindfolded, read communications held 
by people unknown to her at a great distance away ; 


this I saw happen at München under circumstances which 
precluded any chance of fraud. 

In woman there are not strong passions opposed to the 
desire for the good and true as is the case with man. The 
masculine will has more power over woman than over the 
man himself ; it can realise something in women which, in 
his own case, has to encounter too many obstacles. He 
himself has to battle with an anti-moral and anti-logical 
opposition in himself. The masculine will can obtain such 
power over woman's mind that he makes her, in a sense, 
clairvoyant, and breaks down her limitations of mentality. 

Thus it comes about that woman is more telepathic than 
man, can appear more innocent, and can accomplish more 
as a " seer," and it is only when she becomes a medium, i.e., 
the object, that she realises in herself most easily and surely 
the masculine will for the good and true. Wala can be 
made to understand, but not until Dotan subdues her. She 
meets him half-way, for her one desire is to be conquered. 

The subject of hysteria, so far as the purposes of this 
book are concerned, is now exhausted. 

The women who are uniformly quoted as proofs of 
female morality are always of the hysterical type, and it is 
the very observance of morality, in domg things according 
to the moral law as if this moral law were a law of their 
personality instead of being only an acquired habit, that 
the unreaUty, the immorality of this morality is shown. 

The hysterical diathesis is an absurd imitation of the 
masculine mind, a parody of free will which woman parades 
at me very moment when she is most under a masculine 

Woman is not a free agent ; she is altogether subject to 
her desire to be under man's influence, herself and all 
others : she is under the sway of the phallus, and irre- 
trievably succumbs to her destiny, even if it leads to 
actively developed sexuality. At the most a woman can 
reach an indistinct feeling of her un-freedom, a cloudy 
idea of the possibility of controlling her destiny — mani- 
festly only a flickering spark of the free, intelligible subject, 


the scanty remains of inherited maleness in her, which, by 
contrast, gives her even this shght comprehension. It is 
also impossible for a woman to have a clear idea of her 
destiny, or of the forces within her : it is only he who is free 
who can discern fate, because he is not chained by 
necessity ; part of his personality, at least, places him in 
the position of spectator and a combatant outside his own 
fate and makes him so far superior to it. One of the most 
conclusive proofs of human freedom is contained in the 
fact that man has been able to create the idea of causality. 
Women consider themselves most free when they are most 
bound ; and they are not troubled by the passions, because 
tliey are simply the embodiment of them. It is only a man 
who can talk of the " dira necessitas " within him ; it is only 
he could have created the idea of destiny, because it is only 
he who, in addition to the empirical, conditioned existence, 
possesses a free, intelligible ego. 

As 1 have shown, woman can reach no more than a 
vague half-consciousness of the fact that she is a conditioned 
being, and so she is unable to overcome the sexuality that 
binds her. Hysteria is the only attempt on her part to 
overcome it, and, as I have shown, it is not a genuine 
attempt. The hysteria itself is what the hysterical woman 
tries to resist, and the falsity of this effort against slavery is 
the measure of its hopelessness. The most notable examples 
of the sex (I have in mind Hebbel's Judith and Wagner's 
Kundryj may feel that is because they wish it that servitude 
is a necessity for them, but this realisation does not give 
them power to resist it ; at the last moment they will kiss 
the man who ravishes them, and succumb with pleasure to 
those whom they have been resisting violently. It is as if 
woman were under a curse. At times she feels the weight 
of it, but she never flees from it. Her shrieks and ravings 
are not really genuine, and she succumbs to her fate at the 
moment when it has seemed most repulsive to her. 

After a long analysis, then, it has been found that there 
is no exception to the complete absence in women of any 
true, inalienable relation to worth. Even what is covered 


by such current terms as " womanly love," " womanly 
virtue," " womanly devoutness," " womanly modesty," has 
failed to invalidate my conclusions. I have maintained my 
ground in face of the strongest opposition, even including 
that which comes from woman's hysterical imitations of the 
male morality. 

Woman, the normal receptive woman of whom I am 
speaking, is impregnated by the man not only physically 
(and I set down the astonishing mental alteration in 
women after marriage to a physical phenomenon akin to 
telegony), but at every age of her life, by man's conscious- 
ness and by man's social arrangements. Thus it comes 
about that although woman lacks all the characters of the 
male sex, she can assume them so cleverly and so slavishly 
that it is possible to make mistakes such as the idea of the 
higher morality of women. 

But this astounding receptivity of woman is not isolated, 
and must be brought into practical and theoretical con- 
nection with the other positive and negative characteristics 
of woman. 

What has the match-making instinct m woman to do with 
her plasticity ? What connection is there between her 
untruthfulness and her sexuality ? How does it come 
about that there is such a strange mixture of all these 
things in woman ? 

This brings us to ask the reason why women can 
assimilate everything. Whence does she derive the 
falsity which makes it possible for her to prefer-^ to 
believe only what others have told her, to have only 
what they (choose to) give her, to be merely what they 
make her ? 

In order to give the right answer to these questions we 
must turn once more, for the last time, from the actual point. 
It was found that the power of recognition which animals 
possess, and which is the psychical equivalent of universal 
organic response to repeated ^tumili, was curiously like and 
unlike humany memory ; both signify an equally lasting 
influence of an impression which was limited to a 


definite period; bui memory is differentiated from mere 
passive recognition by its power of actively reproducing 
the past. 

Later on, it was seen that mere individuation, the charac- 
terestic of all organic differentation, and individuality, man's 
possession, are different. And finally it was found that it 
was necessary to distinguish carefully between love, peculiar 
to man, and the sexual instinct, shared by the animals. 
The two are allied inasmuch as they are both efforts at 

The desire for worth was referred to as a human char- 
acter, absent in the animals where there is only a desire 
for satisfaction. The two are analagous, and yet funda- 
mentally different. Pleasure is craved ; worth is what 
we feel we ought to crave. The two have been con- 
fused, with the worst results for psychology and ethics. 
There has been a similar confusion between personality 
and persons, between recognition and memory, sexuality 
and love. 

All these antitheses have bee^ continually confused, and, 
what is even more striking, almost always by men with the 
same views and theories, and with the same object — that of 
trying to obliterate the difference between man and the 
lower animals. 

There are other less known distinctions which have been 
equally neglected. Limited consciousness is an animal trait ; 
the active power of noticing is a purely human one. It is 
evident that there is something in common in the two facts, 
but still they are very different. Desire, or impulse, and will 
are nearly always spoken of as if they were identical. The 
former is common to all living creatures, but man has, in 
addition, a will, which is free, and no factor of psychology^ 
because it is the foundation of all psychological experiences. 
The identification of impulse and will is not solely due to 
Darwin ; it occurred also in Schopenhauer's conception of 
the will, which was sometimes biological, sometimes purely 

I may group the two sets of factors as follows ' 


^ . J • 1 Limited to mankind, and in 

Common to men and animals, , , , « 

r J .11 • particular to the males of 

fundamentally organic. ^ , . , 

^ ° mankind. 

Individuation. Individuality. 

Recognition. Memory. 

Pleasure. Sense of vi^orth or value. 

Sexual desire. Love. 

Limitation of the field of Faculty of " taking 

consciousness. notice." 

Impulse. Will. 

The series shows that man possesses not only each 
character which is found in all living things, but also an 
analagous and higher character peculiar to himself. The 
old tendency at once to identify the two series and to con- 
trast them seems to show the existence of something binding 
together the two series, and at the same time separating 
them. One may recall in this connection the Buddhistic 
conception of there being in man a superstructure added to 
the characters of lower existences. It is as if man possessed 
all the properties of the beasts, with, in each case, some 
special quality added. What is this that has been added ? 
How far does it resemble, and in what respects does it differ, 
from the more primitive set ? 

The terms in the left-hand row are fundamental charac- 
teristics of all animal and vegetable life. All such life is 
individual life, not the life of undivided masses ; it manifests 
itself as the impulse to satisfy needs, as sexual impulse for 
the purpose of reproduction. Individuality, memory, will, 
love, are those qualities of a second life, which, although 
related to organic life to a certain extent, are toto ccelo 
different from it. 

This brings us face to face with the religious idea of the 
eternal, higher, new life, and especially with the Christian 
form of it. 

As well as a share in organic life, man shares another 
life, the ^wi? alwWc of the New Dispensation. Just as all 
earthly life is sustained by earthly food, this other life 


requires spiritual sustenance (symbolised in the communion 
service). The birth and death of the former have their 
counterparts in the latter — the moral re-birth of man, the " re- 
generation " — and the end : the final loss of the soul through 
error or crime. The one is determined from without by 
the bonds of natural causation ; the other is ruled by the 
moral imperative from within. The one is limited and 
confined to a definite purpose ; the other is unlimited, 
eternal and moral. The characters which are in the left 
row are common to all forms of lower life ; those in the 
right-hand column are the corresponding presages of eternal 
life, manifestations of a higher existence in which man, and 
only man, has a share. The perpetual intermingling and 
the fresh complications which arise between the higher 
and lower natures are the making of all history of the human 
mind ; this is the plot of the history of the universe. 

It is possible that some may perceive in this second life 
something which in man might have been derived from the 
other lower characters ; such a possibility dismiss at once. 

A clearer grasp of this sensuous, impressionable lower 
life will make it clear that, as I have explained in earlief 
chapters, the case is reversed ; the lower life is merely a 
projection of the higher on the world of the senses, a 
reflection of it in the sphere of necessity, as a degradation 
of it, or its Fall. And the great problem is how the eternal, 
lofty idea came to be bound with earth. This problem is 
the guilt of the world. My investigation is now on the 
threshold of what cannot be investigated ; of a problem 
that so far no one has dared to answer, and that never will 
be answered by any human being. It is the riddle of the 
universe and of life ; the binding of the unlimited in the 
bonds of space, of the eternal in time, of the spirit in 
matter. It is the relation of freedom to necessity, of some- 
thing to nothing, of God to the devil. The dualism of the 
world is beyond comprehension ; it is the plot of the story 
of man's Fall, the primitive riddle. It is the binding of 
eternal life in a perishable being, of the innocent in the 


But it is evident that neither I nor any other man can 
understand this. I can understand sin only when I cease 
to commit it, and the moment I understand it I cease to 
commit it. So also I can never comprehend life while I am 
still alive. There is no moment of my life when I am not 
bound down by this sham existence, and it must be impos- 
sible for me to understand the bond until I am free from it. 
When I understand a thing I am already outside it ; I 
cannot comprehend my sinfulness while I am still sinful. 

As the absolute female has no trace of individuality and 
will, no sense of worth or of love, she can have no part 
in the higher, transcendental life. The intelligible, hyper- 
empirical existence of the male transcends matter, space, 
and time. He is certainly mortal, but he is immortal as 
well. And so he has the power to choose between the two, 
between the life which is lost with death and the life to 
which death is only a stepping-stone. The deepest will of 
man is towards this perfect, timeless existence ; he is com- 
pact of the desire for immortality. That the woman has no 
craving for perpetual life is too apparent ; there is nothing 
in her of that eternal which man tries to interpose and 
must interpose between his real self and his projected, 
empirical self. Some sort of relation to the idea of supreme 
value, to the idea of the absolute, that perfect freedom which 
he has not yet attained, because he is bound by necessity, 
but which he can attain because mind is superior to matter ; 
such a relation to the purpose of things generally, or to the 
divine, every man has. And although his life on earth is 
accompanied by separation and detachment from the abso- 
lute, his mind is always longing to be free from the taint of 
original sin. 

Just- as the love of his parents was not pure in purpose, 
but sought more or less a physical embodiment, the son, 
who is the outcome of that love, will possess his share of 
mortal life as well as of eternal : we are horrified at the thought 
of death, we fight against it, cling to this mortal life, and 
prove from that that we were anxious to be born as we 
were born, and that we still desire to be born of this world. 


But since every male has a relation to the idea of the 
highest value, and would be incomplete without it, no male 
is really ever happy. It is only women who are happy. 
No man is happy, because he has a relation to freedom, and 
yet during his earthly life he is always bound in some way. 
None but a perfectly passive being, such as the absolute 
female, or a universally active being, like the divine, can be 
happy. Happiness is the sense of perfect consummation, 
and this feeling a man can never have ; but there are women 
who fancy themselves perfect. The male always has pro- 
blems behind him and efforts before him : all problems 
originate in the past ; the future is the sphere for efforts. 
Time has no objective, no meaning, for woman ; no woman 
questions herself as to the reason of her existence ; and yet 
the sole purpose of time is to give expression to the fact 
that this life can and must mean something. 

Happiness for the male ! That would imply wholly inde- 
pendent activity, complete freedom ; he is always bound, 
although not with the heaviest bonds, and his sense of guilt 
increases the further he is removed from the idea of freedom, 

Mortal life is a calamity, and must remain so whilst 
mankind is a passive victim of sensation ; so long as he 
remains not form, but merely the matter on which form is 
impressed. Every man, however, has some glimmer of 
higher things ; the genius most certainly and most directly. 
This trace of light, however, does not come from his per- 
ceptions ; so far as he is ruled by these, man is merely a 
passive victim of surrounding things. His spontaneity, his 
freedom, come from his power of judging as to values, 
and his highest approach to absolute spontaneity and free- 
dom comes from love and from artistic or philosophical 
creation. Through these he obtains some faint sense of 
what happiness might be. 

Woman can really never be quite unhappy, for happiness 
•s an empty word for her, a word created by unhappy men. 
Women never mind letting others see their unhappiness, as 
it is not real ; behind it there lies no consciousness of guilt, 
no sense of the sin of the world. 


The last and absolute proof of the thoroughly negative 
character of woman's life, of her complete want of a higher 
existence, is derived from the way in which women commit 

Such suicides are accompanied practically always by 
thoughts of other people, what they will think, how they 
will mourn over them, how grieved — or angry — they will 
be. Every woman is convinced that her unhappiness is 
undeserved at the time she kills herself ; she pities herself 
exceedingly with the sort of self-compassion which is only 
a "weeping with others when they weep." 

How is it possible for a woman to look upon her un- 
happiness as personal when she possesses no idea of a 
destiny? The most appallingly decisive proof of the empti- 
ness and nullity of women is that they never once succeed 
in knowing the problem of their own lives, and death leaves 
them ignorant of it, because they are unable to realise the 
higher life of personality. 

I am now ready to answer the question which I put 
forward as the chief object of this portion of my book, the 
question as to the significance of the male and female in the 
universe. Women have no existence and no essence ; they 
are not, they are nothing. Mankind occurs as male or 
female, as something or nothing. Woman has no share in 
ontological reality, no relation to the thing-in-itself, which, 
in the deepest interpretation, is the absolute, is God. Man 
in his highest form, the genius, has such a relation, and for 
him the absolute is either the conception of the highest 
worth of existence, in which case he is a philosopher ; or it 
is the wonderful fairyland of dreams, the kingdom of abso- 
lute beauty, and then he is an artist. But both views mean 
the same. Woman has no relation to the idea, she neither 
affirms nor denies it ; she is neither moral nor anti-moral ; 
mathematically speaking, she has no sign ; she is purposeless, 
neither good nor bad, neither angel nor devil, never egoisti- 
cal {and therefore has often been said to be altruistic) ; she 
is as non-moral as she is non-logical. But all existence is 
moral and logical existence. So woman has no existence. 


Woman is untruthful. An animal has just as little meta- 
physical reality as the actual woman, but it cannot speak, 
and consequently it does not lie. In order to speak the 
truth one must be something ; truth is dependent on an 
existence, and only that can have a relation to an existence 
which is in itself something. Man desires truth all the 
time ; that is to say, he all along desires only to be some- 
thing. The cognition-impulse is in the end identical with 
the desire for immortality. Any one who objects to a state- 
ment without ever having realised it ; any one who gives 
outward acquiescence without the inner affirmation, such 
persons, like woman, have no real existence and must of 
necessity lie. So that woman always lies, even if, objec- 
tively, she speaks the truth. 

Woman is the great emissary of pairing. The living units 
of the lower forms of life are individuals, organisms ; the 
living units of the higher forms of life are individualities, 
souls, monads, " meta-organisms," a term which Hellenbach 
uses and which is not without point. 

Each monad, however, is differentiated from every other 
monad, and is as distinct from it as only two things can be. 
Monads have no windows, but, instead, have the universe 
in themselves. Man as monad, as a potential or actual 
individuahty, that is, as having genius, has« in addition 
differentiation and distinction, individuation and discrimina- 
tion ; the simple undifferentiated unit is exclusively female. 
Each monad creates for itself a detached entity, a whole ; 
but it looks upon every other ego as a perfect totality also, 
and never intrudes upon it. Man has limits, and accepts 
them and desires them ; woman, who does not recognise 
her own entity, is not in a position to regard or perceive 
the privacy of those around her, and neither respects, nor 
honours, nor leaves it alone : as there is no such thing as 
one-ness for her there can be no plurality, only an 
indistinct state of fusion with others. Because there is no 
" I " in woman she cannot grasp the "thou " ; according to 
her perception the I and thou are just a pair, an undiffer- 
entiated one ; this makes it possible for woman to bring 


people together, to match-make. The object of her love is 
that of her sympathy — the community, the blending of 

Woman has no limits to her ego which could be broken 
through, and which she would have to guard. 

The chief difference between man's and woman's friend- 
ship is referable to this fact. Man's friendship is an attempt 
to see eye to eye with those who individually and collec- 
tively are striving after the same idea ; woman's friendship 
is a combination for the purpose of match-making. It is 
the only kind of intimate and unreserved intercourse 
possible between women, when they are not merely 
anxious to meet each other for the purpose of gossiping or 
discussing every day affairs.f 

If, for instance, one of two girls or women is much 
prettier than the other, the plainer of the two experiences a 
certain sexual satisfaction at the admiration which the 
other receives. The principal condition of all friendship 
between women is the exclusion of rivalry ; every woman 
compares herself physically with every woman she gets to 
know. In cases where one is more beautiful than the other, 
the plainer of the two will idolise the other, because, though 
neither of them is in the least conscious of it, the next best 
thing to her own sexual satisfaction for the one is the 
success of the other ; it is always the same ; woman partici- 
pates in every sexual union. The completely impersonal 
existence of women, as well as the super-individual nature 
of their sexuality, clearly shows match-making to be the 
fundamental trait of their beings. 

The least that even the ugliest woman demands, and 
from which she derives a certain amount of pleasure, is 
that any one of her sex should be admired and desired. 

It follows from the absorbing and absorbable nature of 

* All individuality is an enemy of the community. This is seen 
most markedly in men of genius, but it is just the same with regard 
to the sexes. 

•f Men's friendships avoid breaking down their friends' personal 
reserve. Women expect intimacy from their friends. 


woman's life that women can never feel really jealous. 
However ignoble jealousy and the spirit of revenge may be, 
they both contain an element of greatness, of which 
women, whether for good or evil, are incapable. In 
jealousy there lies a despairing claim to an assumed right, 
and the idea of justice is out of woman's reach. But that 
is not the chief reason why a woman can never be really 
jealous of any man. If a man, even if he were the man she 
was madly in love with, were sitting in the next room 
making love to another woman, the thoughts that would be 
aroused in her breast would be so sexually exciting that 
they would leave no room for jealousy. To a man, such a 
scene, if he knew of it, would be absolutely repulsive, and 
it would be nauseous to him to be near it ; woman would 
feverishly follow each detail, or she would become hysteri- 
cal if it dawned on her what she was doing. 

A man is never really affected by the idea of the pairing 
of others : he is outside and above any such circumstance 
which has no meaning for him ; a woman, however, would 
be scarcely responsible for her interest in the process, she 
would be in a state of feverish excitement and as if spell- 
bound by the thought of her proximity to it. 

A man's interest in his fellow men, who are problems for 
him, may extend to their sexual affairs ; but the curiosity 
which is specially for these things is peculiar to woman, 
whether with regard to men or women. It is the love 
affairs of a man which, from first to last, interest women ; 
and a man is only intellectually mysterious and charming 
to a woman so long as she is not clear as to these. 

From all this it is again manifest that femaleness and 
match-making are identical ; even a superficial study of the 
case would have resulted in the same conclusions. But I 
had a much wider purpose, and I hope I have clearly 
shown the connection between woman positive as match- 
maker, and woman negative as utterly lacking in the higher 
life. Woman has but one idea, an idea she cannot be 
conscious of, as it is her sole idea, and that is absolutely 
opposed to the spiritual idea. Whether as a mother seeking 


reputable matrimony, or the Bacchante of the Venusberg, 
whether she wishes to be the foundress of a family, or is 
content to be lost in the maze of pleasure-seekers, she 
always is in relation to the general idea of the race as a 
whole of which she is an inseparable part, and she follows 
the instinct which most of all makes for community. 

She, as the missionary of union, must be a creature 
without limits or individuality. I have prolonged this side 
of my investigation because its important result has been 
omitted from all earlier characterology. 

At this stage it well may be asked if women are really to 
be considered human beings at all, or if my theory does not 
unite them with plants and animals ? For, according to 
the theory, women, just as little as plants and animals, 
have any real existence, any relation to the intelligible 
whole.' Man alone is a microcosm, a mirror of the 

In Ibsen's " Little Eyolf " there is a beautiful and appo- 
site passage. 

" Rita. ' After all, we are only human beings.' 

" Allmers. ' But we have some kinship with the sky and 
the sea, Rita.' 

" Rita. * You, perhaps ; not me.' " 

Woman, according to the poet, according to Buddha, and 
in my interpretation, has no relation to the all, to the world 
whole, to God. Is she then human, or an animal, or a 
plant ? 

Anatomists will find the question ridiculous, and will at 
once dismiss the philosophy which could lead up to such a 
possibility. For them woman is the female of Homo 
sapiens, differentiated from all other living beings, and 
occupying the same position with regard to the human 
male that the females of other species occupy with regard 
to their males. And he will not allow the philosopher to 
say, " What has the anatomist to do with me ? Let him 
mind his own business." 

As a matter of fact, women are sisters of the flowers, and 
are in close relationship with the animals. Many of their 


sexual perversities and affections for animals (Pasiphäe myth 
and Leda myth) indicate this. But they are human beings. 
Even the absolute woman, whom we think of as without 
any trace of intelligible ego, is still the complement of man. 
And there is no doubt that the fact of the special sexual and 
erotic completion of the human male by the human female, 
even if it is not the moral phenomenon which advocates of 
marriage would have us believe, is still of tremendous import- 
ance to the woman problem. Animals are mere individuals ; 
women are persons, although they are not personalities. 

An appearance of discriminative power, though not the 
reality, language, though not conversation, memory, though 
it has no continuity or unity of consciousness — must all be 
granted to them. 

They possess counterfeits of everything masculine, and 
thus are subject to those transformations which the de- 
fenders of womanliness are so fond of quoting. The result 
of this is a sort of amphi-sexuality of many ideas (honour, 
shame, love, imagination, fear, sensibility, and so on), which 
have both a masculine and feminine significance. 

There now remains to discuss the real meaning of the 
contrast between the sexes. 

The parts played by the male and female principles in the 
animal and vegetable kingdoms are not now under con- 
sideration ; we are dealing solely with humanity. 

That such principles of maleness and femaleness must be 
accepted as theoretical conceptions, and not as metaphysical 
ideas, was the point of this investigation from the beginning. 
The whole object of the book has been to settle the question, 
in man at least, of the really important differences between 
man and woman, quite apart from the mere physiological- 
sexual-differentiation. Furthermore, the view which sees 
nothmg more in the fact of the dualism of the sexes than 
an arrangement for physiological division of labour — an 
idea tor which, I believe, the zoologist, Milne-Edwards, is 
responsible — appears, according to this work, quite unten- 
able ; and it is useless to waste time discussing such a 
superficial and mtellectually complacent view. 


Darwinism, indeed, is responsible for making popular the 
view that sexually differentiated organisms have been de- 
rived from earlier stages in which there was no sexual 
dimorphism ;■ but long before Darwin, Gustav Theodor 
Fechner had already shown that the sexes could not be 
supposed to have arisen from an undifferentiated stage by 
any principle such as division of labour, adaptation to the 
struggle for existence, and so forth. 

The ideas " man " and " woman " cannot be investigated 
separately ; their significance can be found out only by 
placing them side by side and contrasting them. The key 
to their natures must be found in their relations to each 
other. In attempting to discover the nature of erotics I 
went a Itttle way into this subject. The relation of man to 
woman is simply that of subject to object. Woman seeks 
her consummation as the object. She is the plaything of 
husband or child, and, however we may try to hide it, she 
is anxious to be nothing but such a chattel. 

No one misunderstands so thoroughly what a woman 
wants as he who tries to find out what is passing within 
her, endeavouring to share her feelings and hopes, her 
experiences and her real nature. 

Woman does not wish to be treated as an active agent ; 
she wants to remain always and throughout — this is just her 
womanhood — purely passive, to feel herself under another's 
will. She demands only to be desired physically, to be 
taken possession of, like a new property. 

Just as mere sensation only attains reality when it is 
apprehended, i.e., when it becomes objective, so a woman 
is brought to a sense of her existence only by her husband 
or children — by these as subjects to whom she is the object 
— so obtaining the gift of an existence. 

The contrast between the subject and the object in the 
theory of knowledge corresponds ontologically to the con- 
trast between form and matter. It is no more than a 
translation of this distinction from the theory of experience 
to metaphysics. Matter, which in itself is absolutely unindi- 
vidualised and so can assume any form, of itself has no 


definite and lasting qualities, and has as little essence as 
mere perception, the matter of experience, has in itself any 
existence. If the Platonic conception is followed out, it will 
be apparent that that great thinker asserted to be nothing 
what the ordinary Philistine regards as the highest form of 
reality. According to Pinto, the negation of existence is no 
other than matTcr . Form is the only real existence. Aristotle 
carried the Piatomc conception into the regions of biology. 
For Plato form is the parent and creator of all reality. For 
Aristotle, in the sexual process the male principle is the 
active, formative agent, the female principle the passive 
matter on which the form is impressed. In my view, the 
significance of woman in humanity is explained by the 
Platonic and Aristotelian conception. Woman is the 
material on which man acts. Man as the microcosm 
is compounded of the lower and higher life. Woman is 
matter, is nothing. This knowledge gives us the keystone 
to our structure, and it makes everything clear that was 
indistinct, it gives things a coherent form. Woman's sexual 
part depends on contact; it is the absorbing and not the 
liberating impulse. It coincides with this, that the keenest 
sense woman has, and the only one she has more highly 
developed than man, is the sense of touch. The eye and 
the ear lead to the unlimited and give glimpses of infinity; 
the sense of touch necessitates physical limitations to our 
own actions : one is affected by what one feels ; it is the 
eminently sordid sense, and suited to the physical require- 
ments of an earth-bound being. 

Man is form, woman is matter: if that is so it must find 
expression in the relations between their respective psychic 

The summing up of the connected nature of man's 
mental life, as opposed to the inarticulate and chaotic con- 
dition of woman's, illustrates the above antithesis of form 
and matter. 

Matter needs to be formed : and thus woman demands 
that man should clear her confusion of thought, give 
meaning to her benid ideas. Women are matter, which 


can assume any shape. Those experiments which ascribe 
to girls a better memory for learning by rote than boys are 
explained in this way : they are due to the nullity and 
inanity of women, who can be saturated with anything and 
everything, whilst man only retains what has an interest 
for him, forgetting all else. 

This accounts for what has been called woman's submis- 
siveness, the way she is influenced by the opinions of others, 
her suggestibility, the way in which man moulds her formless 
nature. Woman is nothing ; therefore, and only, therefore, 
she can become everythmg, whilst man can only remain 
what he is. A man can make what he likes of a woman : 
the most a woman can do is to help a man to achieve what 
he wants. 

A man's real nature is never altered by education : woman, 
on the other hand, by external influences, can be taught to 
suppress her most characteristic self, the real value she sets 
on sexuaUty. 

Woman can appear everything and deny everything, but 
in reality she is never anything. 

Women have neither this nor that characteristic ; their 
peculiarity consists in having no characteristics at all ; the 
complexity and terrible mystery about women come to this ; 
it is this which makes them above and beyond man's under- 
standing — man, who always wants to get to the heart of 

It may be said, even by those who may wish to agree 
with the foregoing arguments, that they have not indicated 
what man really is. Has he any special male characteristics, 
like match-making and want of character in women ? Is 
there a definite idea of what man is, as there is of woman, 
and can this idea be similarly formulated ? 

Here is the answer : The idea of maleness consists in the 
fact of an individuality, of an essential monad, and is covered 
by it. Each monad, however, is as different as possible from 
every other monad, and therefore cannot be classified in 
one comprehensive idea common to many other monads. 
Man is the microcosm ; he contains all kinds of possibilities. 


This must not be confused with the universal susceptibility 
of woman who becomes all without being anything, whilst 
man is all, as much or as httle, according to his gifts, as he 
will. Man contains woman, for he contains matter, and he' 
can allow this part of his nature to develop itself, i.e., to 
thrive and enervate him ; or he can recognise and fight 
against it— so that he, and he alone, can get at the truth 
about woman. But woman cannot develop except through 


The meaning of man and woman is first arrived at when 
we examine their mutual sexual and erotic relations. 
Woman's deepest desire is to be formed by man, and so to 
receive her being. Woman desires that man should impart 
opinions to her quite different to those she held before^ 
she is content to let herself be turned by him from what she 
had till then thought right. She wishes to be taken ta 
pieces as a whole, so that he may build her up again. 

Woman is tirst created by man's will— he dominates her 
and changes her whole being (hypnotism). Here is the 
explanation of the relation of the psychical to the physical 
in man and woman. Man assumes a reciprocal action of 
body and mind, in the bense rather that the dominant mind 
creates the body, than that the mind merely projects itself 
on phenomena, whilst the woman accepts both mental and 
psychical phenomena empirically. None the less, even 
in the woman there is some reciprocal action. However, 
whilst in the man, as Schopenhauer truly taught, the human 
being is his own creation, his own will makes and re-makes 
the body, the woman is bodily influenced and changed by 
an alien will (suggestion). 

Man not ouly forms himself, but woman also— a far easier 
matter. The myhs of the book of Genesis and other cos- 
mogonies, which teach that woman was created out of man, 
are nearer the truth than the biological theories of descent, 
according to which males have been evolved from females. 

We have now to come to the question left open m 
Chapter IX., as to how woman, who is herself without soul 
or will, is yet able to realise to what extent a man may be 


endowed with them ; and we may now endeavour to answer 
it. Of this one must be certain, that what woman notices, 
that for which she has a sense, is not the special nature of 
man, but only the general fact and possibly the grade of his 
maleness. It is quite erroneous to suppose that woman has 
an innate capacity to understand the individuality of a man. 
The lover, who is so easily fooled by the unconscious simu- 
lation of a deeper comprehension on the part of his sweet- 
heart, may believe that he understands himself through a 
girl ; but those who are less easily satisfied cannot help 
seeing that women only possess a sense of the fact not of 
the individuality of the soul, only for the formal general 
fact, not for the differentiation of the personality. In order 
to perceive and apperceive the special form, matter must not 
itself be formless ; woman's relation to man, however, is 
nothing but that of matter to form, and her comprehension 
of him nothing but willingness to be as much formed as 
possible by him ; the instinct of those without existence for 
existence. Furthermore, this " comprehension " is not 
theoretical, it is not sympathetic, it is only a desire to be 
sympathetic ; it is importunate and egoistical. Woman has 
no relation to man and no sense of man, but only for male- 
ness ; and if she is to be considered as more sexual than 
man, this greater claim is nothing but the intense desire for 
the fullest and most definite formation, it is the demand for 
the greatest possible quantity of existence. 

And, finally, match-making is nothing else than this. The 
sexuality of women is super-individual, because they are not 
limited, formed, individualised entities, in the higher sense 
of the word. 

The supremest moment in a woman's life, when her 
original nature, her natural desire manifests itself, is that in 
which her own sexual union takes place. She embraces the 
man passionately and presses him to her ; it is the greatest 
joy of passivity, stronger even than the contented feeling of a 
hypnotised person, the desire of matter which has just been 
formed, and wishes to keep that form for ever. That is why 
a woman is so grateful to her possessor, even if the gratitude 


is limited to the moment, as in the case of prostitutes with 
no memory, or, if it lasts longer, as in the case of more 
highly differentiated women. 

This endless striving of the poor to attach themselves to 
riches, the altogether formless and therefore super-individual 
striving of the inarticulate to obtain form by contact, to keep 
it indefinitely and so gain an existence, is the deepest motive 
in pairing. 

Pairing is only possible because woman is not a monad, 
and has no sense of individuality ; it is the endless striving 
of nothing to be something. 

I It is thus that the duality of man and woman has 
' gradually developed into complete dualism, to the dualism 
of the higher and lower lives, of subject and object, of 
form and matter, something and nothing. All meta- 
physical, all transcendental existence is logical and moral 
existence ; woman is non-logical and non-moral. She has 
no dislike for what is logical and moral, she is not anti- 
logical, she is not anti-moral. She is not the negation, she 
is, rather, nothing. She is neither the affirmation nor the 
denial. A man has in himself the possibility of being the 
absolute something or the absolute nothing, and therefore 
his actions are directed towards the one or the other ; woman 
does not sin, for she herself is the sin which is a possibility 
in man. 

The abstract male is the image of God, the absolute some- 
thing; the female, and the female element in the male, is the 
symbol of nothing ; that is the significance of the woman 
in the universe, and in this way male and female complete 
and condition one another. Woman has a meaning and a 
function in the universe as the opposite of man ; and as 
the human male surpasses the animal male, so the human 
female surpasses the female of zoology. It is not that 
limited existence and limited negation (as in the animal 
kingdom) are at war in humanity ; what there stand in 
opposition are unlimited existence and unlimited negation. 
And so male and female make up humanity. 

The meaning of woman is to be meaningless. She repre- 


sents negation, the opposite pole from the Godhead, the 
other possibility of humanity. And so nothing is so despic- 
able as a man become female, and such a person will be 
regarded as the supreme criminal even by himself. And 
so also is to be explained the deepest fear of man ; the fear 
of the woman, which is the fear of unconsciousness, the 
alluring abyss of annihilation. 

An old woman manifests once for all what woman really 
is. The beauty of woman, as may be experimentally proved, 
is only created by love of a man ; a woman becomes more 
beautiful when a man loves her because she is passively 
responding to the will which is in her lover ; however 
deep this may sound, it is only a matter of everyday 

All the qualities of woman depend on her non-existence, 
on her want of character ; because she has no true, per- 
manent, but only a mortal life, in her character as the 
advocate of pairing she furthers the sexual part of life, and 
is fundamentally transformed by and susceptible to the man 
who has a physical influence over her. 

Thus the three fundamental characters of woman with 
which this chapter has dealt come together in the con- 
ception of her as the non-existent. Her instability and 
untruthfulness are only negative deductions from the 
premiss of her non-existence. Her only positive character, 
the conception of her as the pairing agent, comes from it 
by a simple process of analysis. The nature of woman is 
no more than pairing, no more than super-individual 

If we turn to the table of the two kinds of life given 
earlier in this chapter, it will be apparent that every inclina- 
tion from the higher to the lower is a crime against oneself. 
Immorality is the will towards negation, the craving to 
change the formed into the formless, the wish for 
destruction. And from this comes the intimate relation 
between femaleness and crime. There is a close relation 
between the immoral and the non-moral. It is only when 
man accepts his own sexuality, denies the absolute in him, 


turns to the lower, that he gives woman existence. The 
acceptance of the Phallus is immoral. It has always been 
thought of as hateful ; it has been the image of Satan, and 
Dante made it the central pillar of hell. 

Thus comes about the domination of the male sexuaHty 
over the female. It is only when man is sexual that woman 
has existence and meaning. 

Her existence is bound up with the Phallus, and so tliat 
is her supreme lord and welcome master. 

Sex, in the form of man, is woman's fate ; the Don Juan 
is the only type of man who has complete power over her. 

The curse, which was said to be heavy on woman, is the 
evil will of man : nothing is only a tool in the hand of the 
will for nothing. The early Fathers expressed it pathetically 
when they called woman the handmaid of the devil. For 
matter in itself is nothing, it can only obtain existence 
through form. The fall of " form " is the corruption that 
takes place when form endeavours to relapse into the form- 
less. When man became sexual he formed woman. That 
woman is at all has happened simply because man has 
accepted his sexuality. Woman is merely the result of this 
affirmation ; she is sexuality itself. Woman's existence is 
dependent on man ; when man, as man, in contradistinction 
to woman, is sexual, he is giving woman form, calling her 
into existence. Therefore woman's one object must be to 
keep man sexual. She desires man as Phallus, and for this 
she is the advocate of pairing. She is incapable of making 
use of any creature except as a means to an end, the end 
being pairing ; and she has but one purpose, that of con- 
tinuing the guilt of man, for she would disappear the 
moment man had overcome his sexuality. 

Man created woman, and will always create her afresh, 
as long as he is sexual. Just as he gives woman con- 
sciousness, so he gives her existence. Woman is the sin of 

He tries to pay the debt by love. Here we have the 
explanation of what seemed like an obscure myth at the 
end of the previous chapter. Now we see what was hidden in 


il : that woman is nothing before man's fall, nor without it ; 
that he does not rob her of anything she had before. The 
crime man has committed in creating woman, and still 
commits in assenting to her purpose, he excuses to woman 
by his eroticism. 

Whence otherwise would come the generosity of love, 
which can never be satisfied by giving ? How is it that 
love is so anxious to endow woman with a soul, and not 
any other creature ? Whence comes it that a child cannot 
love until love coincides with sexuality, the stage of puberty, 
with the repeated forming of woman, with the renewing of 
sin ? Woman is nothing but man's expression and projec- 
tion of his own sexuality. Every man creates himself a 
woman, in which he embodies himself and his own guilt. 

But woman is not herself guilty ; she is made so by the 
guilt of others, and everything for which woman is blamed 
should be laid at man's door. 

Love strives to cover guilt, instead of conquering it ; it 
elevates woman instead of nullifying her. The "something" 
folds the ** nothing" in its arms, and thinks thus to free the 
universe of negation and drown all objections ; whereas 
the nothing would only disappear if the something put it 

Since man's hatred for woman is not conscious hatred of 
his own sexuality, his love is his most intense effort to save 
woman as woman, instead of desiring to nullify her in 
himself. And the consciousness of guilt comes from the 
fact that the object of guilt is coveted instead of being 

Woman alone, then, is guilt ; and is so through man's 
fault. And if femaleness signifies pairing, it is only because 
all guilt endeavours to increase its circle. What woman, 
always unconsciously, accomplishes, she does because she 
cannot help it ; it is her reason for being, her whole nature. 
She is only a part of man, his other, ineradicable, his lower 
part. So matter appears to be as inexplicable a riddle as 
form ; woman as unending as man, negation as eternal as 
existence ; but this eternity is only the eternity of guilt. 



It would not be surprising if to many it should seem from 
the foregoing arguments that " men " have come out of 
them too well, and, as a collective body, have been placed 
on an exaggeratedly lofty pedestal. The conclusions drawn 
from these arguments, however surprised every Philistine 
and young simpleton would be to learn that in himself he 
comprises the whole world, cannot be opposed and con- 
futed by cheap reasoning ; yet the treatment of the male 
sex must not simply be considered too indulgent, or due 
to a direct tendency to omit all the repulsive and small side 
of manhood in order to favourably represent its best points. 
The accusation would be unjustified. It does not enter 
the author's mind to idealise man in order more easily to 
lower the estimation of woman. So much narrowness and 
so much coarseness often thrive beneath the empirical 
representation of manhood that it is a question of the better 
possibilities lying in every man, neglected by him or per- 
ceived either with painful clearness or dull animosity ; pos- 
sibilities which as such in woman neither actually nor 
meditatively ever come to any account. And here the 
author cannot in any wise really rely on the dissimilarities 
between men, however little he may impugn their import- 
ance. It is, therefore, a question of establishing what 
woman is not, and truly in her there is infinitely much want- 
ing which is never quite missing even in the most mediocre 
and plebeian of men. That which is the positive attribute of 
the woman, in so far as a positive can be spoken of in re- 
gard to such a being, will constantly be found also in many 


men. There are, as has already often been demonstrated, 
men who have become women or have remained women; 
but there is no woman who has surpassed certain circum- 
scribed, not particularly elevated moral and intellectual 
limits. And, therefore, I must again assert that the woman 
of the highest standard is immeasurably beneath the man 
of lowest standard. 

These objections may go even further and touch a pK)int 
where the ignoring of theory must assuredly become repre- 
hensible. There are, to wit, nations and races whose men, 
though they can in no wise be regarded as intermediate 
forms of the sexes, are found to approach so slightly and 
so rarely to the ideal of manhood as set forth in my argu- 
ment, that the principles, indeed the entire foundation on 
which this work rests, would seem to be severely shaken 
by their existence. What shall we make, for example, out 
of the Chinese, with their feminine freedom from internal 
cravings and their incapacity for every effort ? One 
might feel tempted to believe in the complete effeminacy 
of the whole race. It can at least be no mere whim of the 
entire nation that the Chinaman habitually wears a pigtail, 
and that the growth of his beard is of the very thinnest. 
But how does the matter stand with the negroes ? A genius 
has perhaps scarcely ever appeared amongst the negroes, 
and the standard of their morality is almost universally so 
low that it is beginning to be acknowledged in America 
that their emancipation was an act of imprudence. 

If, consequently, the principle of the intermediate forms 
of the sexes may perhaps enjoy a prospect of becoming of 
importance to racial anthropology (since in some peoples 
a greater share of womanishness would seem to be generally 
disseminated), it must yet be conceded that the foregoing 
deductions refer above all to Aryan men and Aryan women. 
In how far, in the other great races of mankind, uniformity 
with the standard of the Aryan race may reign, or what has 
prevented and hindered this ; to arrive more nearly at such 
knowledge would require in the first instance the most 
intense research into racial characteristics. 


The Jewish race, which has been chosen by me as a sub- 
ject of discussion, because, as will be shown, it presents 
the gravest and most formidable difficulties for my views, 
appears to possess a certain anthropological relationship 
with both negroes and Mongolians. The readily curling 
hair points to the negro ; admixture of Mongolian blood 
is suggested by the perfectly Chinese or Malay formation of 
face and skull which is so often to be met with amongst 
the Jews and which is associated with a yellowish com- 
plexion. This is nothing more than the result of everyday 
experience, and these remarks must not be otherwise 
understood ; the anthropological question of the origin 
of the Jewish race is apparently insoluble, and even such 
an interesting answer to it as that given by H. S. Chamber- 
lain has recently met with much opposition. The author 
does not possess the knowledge necessary to treat of this ; 
what will be here briefly, but as far as possible profoundly 
analysed, is the psychical peculiarity of the Jewish race. 

This is an obligatory task imposed by psychological 
observation and analysis. It is undertaken independently 
of past history, the details of which must be uncertain. 
The Jewish race offers a problem of the deepest significance 
for the study of all races, and in itself it is intimately 
bound up with many of the most troublesome problems of 
the day. 

I must, however, make clear what I mean by Judaism ; I 
mean neither a race nor a people nor a recognised creed. 
I think of it as a tendency of the mind, as a psychological 
constitution which is a possibility for all mankind, but 
which has become actual in the most conspicuous fashion 
only amongst the Jews. Antisemitism itself will confirm 
my point of view. 

The purest Aryans by descent and disposition are seldom 
Antisemites, although they are often unpleasantly moved by 
some of the peculiar Jewish traits ; they cannot in the least 
understand the Antisemite movement, and are, in conse- 
quence of their defence of the Jews, often called Philo- 
semites ; and yet these persons writing on the subject of 


the hatred of Jews, have been guilty of the most profound 
misunderstanding of the Jewish character. The aggressive 
Antisemites, on the other hand, nearly always display certain 
Jewish characters, sometimes apparent in their faces, al- 
though they may have no real admixture of Jewish blood.* 

The explanation is simple. People love in others the 
qualities they would like to have but do not actually have in 
any great degree ; so also we hate in others only what we 
do not wish to be, and what notwithstanding we are partly. 
We hate only qualities to which we approximate, but which 
we realise first in other persons. 

Thus the fact is explained that the bitterest Antisemites 
are to be found amongst the jews themselves. For only 
the quite Jewish Jews, like the completely Aryan Aryans, are 
not at all Antisemitically disposed ; among the remainder 
only the commoner natures are actively Antisemitic and 
pass sentence on others without having once sat in judg- 
ment on themselves in these matters ; and very few exercise 
their Antisemitism first on themselves. This one thing, 
however, remains none the less certain : whoever detests 
the Jewish disposition detests it first of all in himself ; that 
he should persecute it in others is merely his endeavour to 
separate himself in this way from Jewishness ; he strives to 
slj^ke it off and to localise it in his fellow-creatures, and so 
for a moment to dream himself free of it. Hatred, like 
love, is a projected phenomenon; that person alone is haled 
who reminds one unpleasantly of oneself. 

The Antisemitism of the Jews bears testimony to the 
fact that no one who has had experience of them considers 
them loveable — not even the Jew himself ; the Antisemi- 
tism of the Aryans grants us an insight no less full of 

* Zola was a typical case of a person absolutely without trace of 
the Jewish qualities, and, therefore, a philosemite. The greatest 
geniuses, on the other hand, have nearly always been antisemites 
(Tacitus, Pascal, Voltaire, Herder, Goethe, Kant, Jean Paul, 
Schopenhauer, Grillparzer, Wagner) ; this comes about from the 
fact as geniuses they have something of everything in their natures, 
and so can understand Judaism. 

' JUDAISM 305 

significance : it is that the Jew and the Jewish race must 
not be confounded. There are Aryans who are more Jewish 
than Jews, and real Jews who are more Aryan than certain 
Aryans. I need not enumerate those non-semites who had 
much Jewishness in them, the lesser (like the well-known 
Frederick Nicolai of the eighteenth century) nor those of 
moderate greatness (here Frederick Schiller can scarcely 
be omitted), nor will I analyse their Jewishness. Above all 
Richard Wagner — the bitterest Antisemite — cannot be held 
free from an accretion of Jewishness even in his art, how- 
ever little one be misled by the feeling which sees in him 
the greatest artist enshrined in historical humanity ; and 
this, though indubitably his Siegfried is the most un- 
Jewish type imaginable. As Wagner's aversion to grand 
opera and the stage really led to the strongest attraction, an 
attraction of which he was himself conscious, so his music, 
which, in the unique simplicity of its motifs, is the most 
powerful in the world, cannot be declared free from obtru- 
siveness, loudness, and lack of distinction ; from some con- 
sciousness of this Wagner tried to gain coherence by the 
extreme instrumentation of his works. It cannot be denied 
(there can be no mistake about it) that Wagner's music 
produces the deepest impression not only on Jewish Anti- 
semites, who have never completely shaken off Jewishness, 
but also on Indo-Germanic Antisemites. From the music 
of " Parsifal," which to genuine Jews will ever remain as 
unapproachable as its poetry, from the Pilgrim's march 
and the procession to Rome in " Tannhaüser," and assuredly 
from many another part, they turn away. Doubtless, also, 
none but a German could make so clearly manifest the 
very essence of the German race as Wagner has succeeded 
in doing in the " Meistersingers of Nürnberg." In Wagner 
one thinks constantly of that side of his character which leans 
towards Feuerbach, instead of towards Schopenhauer. 
Here no narrow psychological depreciation of this great 
man is intended. Judaism was to him the greatest help in 
reaching a clearer understanding and assertion of the 
extremes within him in his struggle to reach " Siegfried" and 



" Parsifal," and in giving to German nature the highest 
means of expression which has probably ever been found in 
the pages of history. Yet a greater than Wagner was obliged 
to overcome the Jewishness within him before he found his 
special vocation ; and it is, as previously stated, perhaps its 
great significance in the world's history and the immense 
merit of Judaism that it and nothing else, leads the Aryan 
to a knowledge of himself and warns him against himself. 
For this the Aryan has to thank the Jew that, through 
him, he knows to guard against Judaism as a possibility 
within himself. This example will sufficiently illustrate what, 
in my estimation, is to be understood by Judaism. 

I do not refer to a nation or to a race, to a creed or to a 
scripture. When I speak of the Jew I mean neither an 
individual nor the whole body, but mankind in general, in 
so far as it has a share in the platonic idea of Judaism. 
My purpose is to analyse this idea. 

That these researches should be included in a work 
devoted to the characterology of the sexes may seem an 
undue extension of my subject. But some reflection will 
lead to the surprising result that Judaism is saturated with 
femininity, with precisely those qualities the essence of 
which I have shown to be in the strongest opposition to the 
male nature. It would not be difficult to make a case for 
the view that the Jew is more saturated with femininity 
than the Aryan, to such an extent that the most manly Jew 
is more feminine than the least manly Aryan. 

This interpretation would be erroneous. It is most 
important to lay stress on the agreements and differences 
simply because so many points that become obvious in 
dissecting woman reappear in the Jew. 

Let me begin with the analogies. It is notable that the 
Jews, even now when at least a relative security of tenure is 
possible, prefer moveable property, and, in spite of their 
acquisitiveness, have little real sense of personal property, 
especially in its most characteristic form, landed property. 
Property is indissolubly connected with the self, with 
individuality. It is in harmony with the foregoing that the 


jew is so readily disposed to communism. Communism 
must be distinguished clearly from socialism, the former 
being based on a community of goods, an absence of 
individual property, the latter meaning, in the first place a 
co-operation of individual with individual, of worker with 
worker, and a recognition of human individuality in every 
one. Socialism is Aryan (Owen, Carlyle, Ruskin, Fichte). 
Communism is Jewish (Marx). Modern social democracy 
has moved far apart from the earlier socialism, precisely 
because Jews have taken so large a share in developing it. 
In spite of the associative element in it, the Marxian 
doctrine does not lead in any way towards the State as a 
union of all the separate individual aims, as the higher unit 
combining the purposes of the lower units. Such a con- 
ception is as foreign to the Jew as it is to the woman. 

For these reasons Zionism must remain an impracticable 
ideal, notwithstanding the fashion in which it has brought 
together some of the noblest qualities of the Jews. Zionism 
is the negation of Judaism, for the conception of Judaism 
involves a world-wide distribution of the Jews. Citizenship 
! is an un-Jewish thing, and there has never been and never 
I will be a true Jewish State. The State involves the aggrega- 
tion of individual aims, the formation of and obedience to 
self-imposed laws ; and the symbol of the State, if nothing 
more, is its head chosen by free election. The opposite 
conception is that of anarchy, with which present-day 
communism is closely allied. The ideal State has never 
been historically realised, but in every case there is at least 
a minimum of this higher unit, this conception of an ideal 
power which distinguishes the State from the mere collec- 
tion of human beings in barracks. Rousseau's much- 
despised theory of the conscious co-operation of individuals 
to form a State deserves more attention than it now receives. 
Some ethical notion of free combination must always be 

The true conception of the State is foreign to the Jew, 
because he, like the woman, is wanting in personality; his 
failure to grasp the idea of true society is due to his lack of 


a free intelligible ego. Like women, Jews tend to adhere 
together, but they do not associate as free independent 
individuals mutually respecting each other's individuality. 

As there is no real dignity in women, so what is meant 
by the word " gentleman " does not exist amongst the Jews. 
The genuine Jew fails in this innate good breeding by 
which alone individuals honour their own individuality and 
respect that of others. There is no Jewish nobility, and 
this is the more surprising as Jewish pedigrees can be traced 
back for thousands of years. 

The familiar Jewish arrogance has a similar explanation; 
it springs from want of true knowledge of himself and the 
consequent overpowering need he feels to enhance his own 
personality by depreciating that of his fellow-creatures. 
And so, although his descent is incomparably longer than 
that of the members of Aryan aristocracies, he has an 
inordinate love for titles. The Aryan respect for his 
ancestors is rooted in the conception that they were his 
ancestors ; it depends on his valuation of his own person- 
ality, and, in spite of the communistic strength and antiquity 
of the Jewish traditions, this individual sense of ancestry is 

The faults of the Jewish race have often been attributed 
to the repression of that race by Aryans, and many Chris- 
tians are still disposed to blame themselves in this respect. 
But the self-reproach is not justified. Outward circum- 
stances do not mould a race in one direction, unless there 
is in the race the innate tendency to respond to the 
moulding forces ; the total result comes at least as much 
from the natural disposition as from the modifying circum- 
stances. We know now that the proof of the inheritance 
of acquired characters has broken down, and, in the human 
race still more than the lower forms of life, it is certain that 
individual and racial characters persist in spite of all 
adaptive moulding. When men change, it is from within, 
outwards, unless the change, as in the case of women, is a 
mere superficial imitation of real change, and is not rooted 
in their natures. And how can we reconcile the idea that 


the Jewish character is a modern modification with the 
history of the foundation of the race, given in the Old 
Testament without any disapprobation of how the patriarch 
Jacob deceived his dying father, cheated his brother Esau 
and over-reached his father-in-law, Laban ? 

The defenders of the Jew have rightly acquitted him of 
any tendency to heinous crimes, and the legal statistics of 
different countries confirm this. The Jew is not really 
anti-moral. But, none the less, he does not represent the 
highest ethical type. He is rather non-moral, neither very 
good nor very bad, with nothing in him of either the angel 
or the devil. Notwithstanding the Book of Job and the 
story of Eden, it is plain that the conceptions of a Supreme 
Good and a Supreme Evil are not truly Jewish ; I have 
no wish to enter upon the lengthy and controversial topics 
of Biblical criticism, but at the least I shall be on sure 
ground when I say that these conceptions play the least 
significant part in modern Jewish life. Orthodox or un- 
orthodox, the modern Jew does not concern himself with 
God and the Devil, with Heaven and Hell. If he does not 
reach the heights of the Aryan, he is also less inclined to 
commit murder or other crimes of violence. 

So also in the case of the woman ; it is easier for her 
defenders to point to the infrequency of her commission of 
serious crimes than to prove her intrinsic morality. The 
homology of Jew and woman becomes closer the further 
examination goes. There is no female devil, and no female 
angel ; only love, with its blind aversion from actuality, 
sees in woman a heavenly nature, and only hate sees in her 
a prodigy of wickedness. Greatness is absent from the 
nature of the woman and the Jew, the greatness of morality, 
or the greatness of evil. In the Aryan man, the good and 
bad principles of Kant's religious philosophy are ever pre- 
sent, ever in strife. In the Jew and the woman, good and 
evil are not distinct from one another. 

jews, then, do not live as free, self-governing individuals, 
choosing between virtue and vice in the Aryan fashion. 
They are a mere collection of similar individuals each cast 


in the same mould, the whole forming as it were a con- 
tinuous Plasmodium. The Antisemite has often thought of 
this as a defensive and aggressive union, and has formulated 
the conception of a Jewish " solidarity." There is a deep 
confusion here. When some accusation is made against 
some unknown member of the Jewish race, all Jews secretly 
take the part of the accused, and wish, hope for, and seek 
to establish his innocence. But it must not be thought 
that they are mteresting themselves more in the fate of the 
individual Jew than they would do in the case of an indi- 
vidual Christian. It is the menace to Judaism in general, 
the fear that the shameful shadow may do harm to Judaism 
as a whole, which is the origin of the apparent feeling of 
sympathy. In the same way, women are delighted when a 
member of their sex is depreciated, and will themselves 
assist, until the proceeding seems to throw a disadvan- 
tageous light over the sex in general, so frightening men 
from marriage. The race or sex alone is defended, not the 

It would be easy to understand why the family (in its 
biological not its legal sense) plays a larger role amongst 
the Jews than amongst any other people ; the English, 
who in certain ways are akin to the Jews, coming next. 
The family, in this biological sense, is feminine and maternal 
in its origin, and has no relation to the State or to society. 
The fusion, the continuity of the members of the family, 
reaches its highest point amongst the Jews. In the Indo- 
Germanic races, especially in the case of the more gifted, 
but also in quite ordinary individuals, there is never com- 
plete harmony between father and son ; consciously, or 
unconsciously, there is always in the mind of the son a cer- 
tain feeling of impatience against the man who, unasked, 
brought him into the world, gave him a name, and deter- 
mined his limitations in this earthly life. It is only amongst 
the Jews that the son feels deeply rooted in the family and 
IS fully at one with his father. It scarcely ever happens 
amongst Christians that father and son are really friends. 
Amongst Christians even the daughters stand a little further 


apart from the family circle than happens with Jewesses, 
and more frequently take up some calling which isolates 
them and gives them independent interests. 

We reach at this point a fact in relation to the argument 
of the last chapter. I showed there that the essential 
element in the pairing instinct was an indistinct sense of 
individuality and of the limits between individuals. Men 
who are match-makers have always a Jewish element in 
them. The Jew is always more absorbed by sexual matters 
than the Aryan, although he is notably less potent sexually 
and less liable to be enmeshed in a great passion. The Jews 
are habitual match-makers, and in no race does it so often 
happen that marriages are arranged by men. This kind of 
activity is certainly peculiarly necessary in their case, for, as 
I have alread)- stated, there is no people amongst which 
marriages for love are so rare. The organic disposition of 
the Jews towards match-making is associated with their 
racial failure to comprehend asceticism. It is interesting to 
note that the Jewish Rabbis have always been addicted to 
speculations as to the begetting of children and have a rich 
tradition on the subject, a natural result in the case of the 
people who invented the phrase as to the duty of *' multi- 
plying and replenishing the earth." 

The pairing instinct is the great remover of the limits 
between individuals; and the Jew, par excellence, is the 
breaker down ot such limits. He is at the opposite pole 
from aristocrats, with whom the preservation of the limits 
between individuals is the leading idea. The Jew is an 
inborn communist. The Jew's careless manners in society 
and his want of social tact turn on this quality, for the 
reserves of social intercourse are simply barriers to protect 

I desire at this point again to lay stress on the fact, 
although it should be self-evident, that, in spite of my low 
estimate of the Jew, nothing could be further from my 
intention than to lend the faintest support to any practical 
or theoretical persecution of Jews. I am dealing with 
Judaism, in the platonic sense, as an idea. There is no 


more an absolute Jew than an absolute Christian. I am not 
speaking against the individual, whom, indeed, if that had 
been so, I should have wounded grossly and unnecessarily. 
Watchwords, such as " Buy only from Christians," have 
in reality a Jewish taint ; they have a meaning only for those 
who regard the race and not the individual, and what is to 
be compared with them is the Jewish use of the word " Goy," 
which is now almost obsolete. I have no wish to boycott 
the Jew, or by any such immoral means to attempt to solve 
the Jewish question. Nor will Zionism solve that question; 
as H. S. Chamberlain has pointed out, since the destruction 
of the Temple at Jerusalem, Judaism has ceased to be 
national, and has become a spreading parasite, straggling 
all over the earth and finding true root nowhere. Before 
Zionism is possible, the Jew must first conquer Judaism. 

To defeat Judaism, the Jew must first understand himself 
and war against himself. So far, the Jew has reached no 
further than to make and enjoy jokes against his own pecu- 
liarities. Unconsciously he respects the Aryan more than 
himself. Only steady resolution, united to the highest self- 
respect, can free the Jew from Jewishness. This resolution, 
be it ever so strong, ever so honourable, can only be under- 
stood and carried out by the individual, not by the group. 
Therefore the Jewish question can only be solved indi- 
vidually ; every single Jew must try to solve it in his proper 

There is no other solution to the question and can be no 
other ; Zionism will never succeed in answering it. 

The Jew, indeed, who has overcome, the Jew who has 
become a Christian, has the fullest right to be regarded by 
the Aryan in his individual capacity, and no longer be con- 
demned as belonging to a race above which his moral 
efforts have raised him. He may rest assured that no 
one will dispute his well-founded claim. The Aryan of 
good social standing always feels the need to respect the 
Jew ; his Antisemitism being no joy, no amusement to him. 
Therefore he is displeased when Jews make revelations 
about Jews, and he who does so may expect as few thanks 

/ JUDAISM 313 

from that quarter as from over-sensitive Judaism itself. 
Above all, the Aryan desires that the Jew should justify 
Antisemitism by being baptized. But the danger of this 
outward acknowledgment of his inward struggles need not 
trouble the Jew who wishes for liberty within him. He 
will long to reach the holy baptism of the Spirit, of which 
that of the body is but the outward symbol. 

To reach so important and useful a result as what 
Jewishness and Judaism really are, would be to solve 
one of the most difficult problems ; Judaism is a much 
deeper riddle than the many Antisemites believe, and in 
very truth a certain darkness will always enshroud it. Even 
the parallel with woman will soon fail us, though now and 
then it may help us further. 

In Christians pride and humility, in Jews haughtiness 
and cringing, are ever at strife ; in the former self-con- 
sciousness and contrition, in the latter arrogance and 
bigotry. In the total lack of humility of the Jew lies his 
failure to grasp the idea of grace. From his slavish dis- 
position springs his heteronomous code of ethics, the 
" Decalogue," the most immoral book of laws in the uni- 
verse, which enjoins on obedient followers, submission to 
the powerful will of an exterior influence, with the reward 
of earthly well-being and the conquest of the world. His 
relations with Jehovah, the abstract Deity, whom he slavishly 
fears, whose name he never dares to pronounce, characterise 
the Jew ; he, like the woman, requires the rule of an 
exterior authority. According to the definition of Scho- 
penhauer, the word ' God ' indicates a man who made 
the world. This certainly is a true likeness of the God of 
the Jew. Of the divine in man, of " the God who in my 
bosom dwells," the true Jew knows nothing ; for what 
Christ and Plato, Eckhard and Paul, Goethe and Kant, the 
priests of the Vedas, Fechner, and every Aryan have meant 
by divine, for what the saying, " I am with you always even 
to the end of the world " — for the meaning of all these the 
Jew remains without understanding. For the God in man 
is the human soul, and the absolute Jew is devoid of a soul. 


It is inevitable, then, that we should find no trace of 
belief in immortality in the Old Testament. Those who 
have no soul can have no craving for immortality, and so 
it is with the woman and the Jew ; " Anima naturaliter 
Christiana," said Tertullian. 

The absence from the Jew of true mysticism — Cham- 
berlain has remarked on this — has a similar origin. They 
have nothing but the grossest superstition and the system of 
divinatory magic known as the " Kabbala." Jewish mono- 
theism has no relation to a true belief in God ; it is not 
a religion of reason, but a belief of old women founded 
on fear. 

Why is it that the Jewish slave of Jehovah should become 
so readily a materialist or a freethinker ? It is merely the 
alternative phase to slavery ; arrogance about what is not 
understood is the other side of the slavish intelligence. 
When it is fully recognised that Judaism is to be regarded 
rather as an idea in which other races have a share, than as 
the absolute property of a particular race, then the Judaic 
element in modern materialistic science will be better 
understood. Wagner has given expression to Judaism in 
music ; there remains to say something about Judaism in 
modern science. 

Judaism in science, in the widest interpretation of it, is 
the endeavour to remove all transcendentalism. The Aryan 
feels that the effort to grasp everything, and to refer every- 
thing to some system of deductions, really robs things of 
their true meaning ; for him, what cannot be discovered is 
what gives the world its significance. The Jew has no fear 
of these hidden and secret elements, for he has no con- 
sciousness of their presence. He tries to take a view of the 
world as flat and commonplace as possible, and to refuse to 
see all the secret and spiritual meanings of things. His 
view is non-philosophical rather an anti-philosophical. 

Because fear of God in the Jew has no relation with real 
religion, the Jew is of all persons the least perturbed by 
mechanical, materialistic theories of the world ; he is readily 
beguiled by Darwinism and the ridiculous notion that 


men are derived from monkeys ; and now he is disposed 
to accept the view that the soul of man is an evolution that 
has taken place within the human race ; formerly, he was a 
mad devotee of Büchner, now he is ready to follow Ostwald. 
It is due to a real disposition that the jews should be so 
prominent in the study of chemistry ; they cling naturally 
to matter, and expect to find the solution of everything in 
its properties. And yet one who was the greatest German 
investigator of all times, Kepler himself, wrote the following 
hexameter on chemistry : 

" O curas Chymicorum ! O quantum in pulvere inane ! " 

The present turn of medical science is largely due to the 
influence of the Jews, who in such numbers have embraced 
the medical profession. From the earliest times, until the 
dominance of the Jews, medicine was closely allied with 
religion. But now they would make it a matter of drugs, a 
mere administration of chemicals. But it can never be that 
the organic will be explained by the inorganic. Fechner and 
Preyer were right when they said that death came from 
life, not life from death. We see this taking place daily in 
individuals (in human beings, for instance, old age pre- 
pares for death by a calcification of the tissues). And as 
yet no one has seen the organic arise from the inorganic. 
From the time of Schwammerdam to that of Pasteur it has 
become more and more certain that living things never 
arise from what is not alive. Surely this ontogenetic obser- 
vation should be applied to phylogeny, and we should be 
equally certain that, in the past, the dead arose from the 
living. The chemical interpretation of organisms sets these 
on a level with their own dead ashes. We should return 
from this Judaistic science to the nobler conceptions of 
Copernicus and Galileo, Kepler and Euler, Newton and 
Linnaeus, Lamarck and Faraday, Sprengel and Cuvier. The 
freethinkers of to-day, soulless and not believing in the 
soul, are incapable of filling the places of these great men 
and of reverently realising the presence of intrinsic secrets 
in nature. 


It is this want of depth which explains the absence of 
truly great Jews ; like women, they are without any trace 
of genius. The philosopher Spinoza, about whose purely 
Jewish descent there can be no doubt, is incomparably the 
greatest Jew of the last nine hundred yea'-s, much greater 
than the poet Heine (who, indeed, was almost destitute of 
any quality of true greatness) or than that original, if 
shallow painter, Israels. The extraordinary fashion in 
which Spinoza has been over-estimated is less due to his 
intrinsic merit than to the fortuitous circumstance that he 
was the only thinker to whom Goethe gave his attention. 

For Spinoza himself there was no deep problem in 
nature (and in this he showed his Jewish character), as, 
otherwise, he would not have elaborated his mathematical 
method, a method according to which the explanation of 
things was to be found in themselves. This system formed 
a refuge into which Spinoza could escape from himself, and 
it is not unnatural that it should have been attractive to 
Goethe, who was the most introspective of men, as it might 
have seemed to offer to him tranquillity and rest. 

Spinoza showed his Jewishness and the limits that always 
confine the Jewish spirit in a still plainer fashion ; I am not 
thinking of his failure to comprehend the State or of his 
adhesion to the Hobbesian doctrine of universal warfare 
as the primitive condition of mankind. The matter goes 
deeper. I have in mind his complete rejection of free-will 
— the Jew is always a slave and a determinist — and his 
view that individuals were mere accidents into which the 
universal substance had fallen. The Jew is never a believer in 
monads. And so there is no wider philosophical gulf than 
that between Spinoza and his much more eminent con- 
temporary, Leibnitz, the protagonist of the monad theory, 
or its still greater creator, Bruno, whose superficial likeness 
with Spinoza has been exaggerated in the most grotesque 

Just as Jews and women are without extreme good and 
extreme evil, so they never show either genius or the deptti 
of stupidity of which mankind is capable. The specitic 


kind of intelligence for which Jews and women alike are 
notorious is due simply to the alertness of an exaggerated 
egotism ; it is due, moreover, to the boundless capacity 
shown by both for pursuing any object with equal zeal, 
because they have no intrinsic standard of value — nothing 
in their own souls by which to judge of the worthiness 
of any particular object. And so they have unhampered 
natural instincts, such as are not present to help the Aryan 
man when his transcendental standard fails him. 

I may now touch upon the likeness of the English to the 
Jews, a topic discussed at length by Wagner. It cannot be 
doubted that of the Germanic races the English are in 
closest relationship with the Jews. Their orthodoxy and 
their devotion to the Sabbath afford a direct indication. 
The religion of the Englishman is always tinged with hypo- 
crisy, and his asceticism is largely prudery. The English, 
like women, have been most unproductive in religion and 
in music ; there may be irreligious poets, although not 
great artists, but there is no irreligious musician. So, also, 
the English have produced no great architects or philoso- 
phers. Berkeley, like Swift and Sterne, were Irish ; Carlyle, 
Hamilton, and Burns were Scotch. Shakespeare and 
Shelley, the two greatest Englishmen, stand far from the 
pinnacle of humanity ; they do not reach so far as Angelo 
and Beethoven. If we consider English philosophers we 
shall see that there has been a great degeneration since the 
Middle Ages. It began with William of Ockham and Duns 
Scotus ; it proceeded through Roger Bacon and his name- 
sake, the Chancellor ; through Hobbes, who, mentally, was 
so near akin to Spinoza ; through the superficial Locke to 
Hartley, Priestley, Bentham, the two Mills, Lewes, Huxley, 
and Spencer. These are the greatest names in the history 
of English philosophy, for Adam Smith and David Hume 
were Scotchmen. It must always be remembered against 
England, that from her there came the soulless psychology. 
The Englishman has impressed himself on the German as a 
rigorous empiricist and as a practical politician, but these 
two sides exhaust his importance in philosophy. There 


has never yet been a true philosopher who made empiricism 
his basis, and no Englishman has got beyond empiricism 
without external help. 

None the less, the Englishman must not be confused with 
the Jew. There is more of the transcendental element in 
'him, and his mind is directed rather from the transcendental 
to the practical, than from the practical towards the trans- 
cendental. Otherwise he would not be so readily disposed 
to humour, unlike the Jew, who is ready to be witty only at 
his own expense or on sexual things. 

I am well aware how difficult are the problems of laughter 
and humour — just as difficult as any problems that are 
peculiar to man and not shared by him with the beasts ; so 
difficult that neither Schopenhauer nor Jean Paul himself 
were able to elucidate them. Humour has many aspects ; 
in some men it seems to be an expression of pity for them- 
selves or for others, but this element is not sufficient to 
distinguish it. 

The essence of humour appears to me to consist in a 
laying of stress on empirical things, in order that their 
unreality may become more obvious. Everything that is 
realised is laughable, and in this way humour seems to be 
the antithesis of eroticism. The latter welds men and the 
world together, and unites them in a great purpose ; the 
former loses the bonds of synthesis and shows the world as 
a silly affair. The two stand somewhat in the relation of 
polarised and unpolarised light. 

When the great erotic wishes to pass from the limited to 
the illimited, humour pounces down on him, pushes him 
in front of the stage, and laughs at him from the wings. 
The humourist has not the craving to transcend space ; he 
is content with small things ; his dominion is neither the 
sea nor the mountains, but the fiat level plain. He shuns 
the idyllic, and plunges deeply into the commonplace, 
only, however, to show its unreality. He turns from the 
immanence of things and will not hear the transcendental 
even spoken of. Wit seeks out contradictions in the sphere of 
experience ; humour goes deeper and shows that experience 


is a blind and closed system ; both compromise the pheno- 
menal world by showing that everything is possible in it. 
Tragedy, on the other hand, shows what must for all 
eternity be impossible in the phenomenal world ; and thus 
tragedy and comedy alike, each in their own way, are 
negations of the empiric. 

The Jew who does not set out, like the humourist, from 
the transcendental, and does not move towards it, like the 
erotic, has no interest in depreciating what is called the 
actual world, and that never becomes for him the para- 
phernalia of a juggler or the nightmare of a mad-house. 
Humour, because it recognises the transcendental, if only 
by the mode of resolutely concealing it, is essentially 
tolerant ; satire, on the other hand, is essentially intolerant, 
and is congruous with the disposition of the Jew and the 
woman. Jews and women are devoid of humour, but 
addicted to mockery. In Rome there was even a woman 
(Sulpicia) who wrote satires. Satire, because of its intoler- 
ance, is impossible to men in society. The humourist, who 
knows how to keep the trifles and littlenesses of phenomena 
from troubhng himself or others, is a welcome guest. 
Humour, like love, moves away obstacles from our path ; 
it makes possible a way of regarchng the world. The Jew, 
therefore, is least addicted to society, and the Englishman 
most adapted for it. 

The comparison of the Jew with the Englishman fades 
out much more quickly than that with the woman. Both 
comparisons first arose in the heat of the conflict as to the 
worth and the nature of Jew^s. I may again refer to Wagner, 
who not only interested himself deeply in the problem of 
Judaism, but rediscovered the Jew in the Englishman, and 
threw the shadow of Ahasuerus over his Kundry, probably 
the most perfect representation of woman in art. 

The fact that no woman in the w^orld represents the idea 
of the wife so completely as the Jewess (and not only in the 
eyes of Jews) still further supports the comparison between 
Jews and women. In the case of the Aryans, the metaphy- 
sical qualities of the male are part of his sexual attraction 


for the woman, and so, in a fashion, she puts on an appear- 
ance of these. The Jew, on the other hand, has no trans- 
cendental quality, and in the shaping and moulding of the 
wife leaves the natural tendencies of the female nature a 
more unhampered sphere ; and the Jewish woman, accord- 
ingly, plays the part required of her, as house-mother or 
odalisque, as Cybele or Cyprian, in the fullest way. 

The congruity between Jews and women further reveals 
itself in the extreme adaptability of the Jews, in their great 
talent for journalism, the "mobility" of their minds, their 
lack of deeply-rooted and original ideas, in fact the mode 
in which, like women, because they are nothing in them- 
selves, they can become everything. The Jew is an indivi- 
dual, not an individuality ; he is in constant close relation 
with the lower life, and has no share in the higher metaphy- 
sical life. 

At this point the comparison between the Jew and the 
woman breaks down ; the being-nothing and becoming-all- 
things differs in the two. The woman is material which 
passively assumes any form impressed upon it. In the Jew 
there is a definite aggressiveness ; it is not because of the 
great impression that others make on him that he is recep- 
tive ; he is no more subject to suggestion than the Aryan 
man, but he adapts himself to every circumstance and every 
race, becoming, like the parasite, a new creature in 
every different host, although remaining essentially the 
same. He assimilates himself to everything, and assi- 
milates everything ; he is not dominated by others, but 
submits himself to them. The Jew is gifted, the woman 
is not gifted, and the giftedness of the Jew reveals itself in 
many forms of activity, as, for instance, in jurisprudence ; 
but these activities are always relative and never seated in 
the creative freedom of the will. 

The Jew is as persistent as the woman, but his persistence 
is not that of the individual but of the race. He is not 
unconditioned like the Aryan, but his limitations differ from 
those of the woman. 

The true peculiarity of the Jew reveals itself best in his 


essentially irreligious nature. I cannot here enter on a dis- 
cussion as to the idea of religion ; but it is enough to say 
that it is associated essentially with an acceptance of the 
higher and eternal in man as different in kind, and in no 
sense to be derived from the phenomenal life. The Jew is 
eminently the unbeliever. Faith is that act of man by 
which he enters into relation with being, and religious faith 
is directed towards absolute, eternal being, the " life ever- 
lasting" of the religious phrase. The Jew is really nothing, 
because he believes in nothing. 

Belief is everything. It does not matter if a man does 
not believe in God ; let him believe in atheism. But the 
Jew believes nothing; he does not believe his own belief; 
I he doubts as to his own doubt. He is never absorbed by 
I his own joy, or engrossed by his own sorrow. He never 
, takes himself in earnest, and so never takes any one else in 
\ earnest He is content to be a Jew, and accepts any disad- 
! vantages that come from the fact. 

We have now reached the fundamental difference between 
the Jew and the woman. Neither believe in themselves ; but 
the woman believes in others, in her husband, her lover, or 
her children, or in love itself ; she has a centre of gravity, 
although it is outside her own being. The Jew believes in 
nothing, within him or without him. His want of desire 
for permanent landed property and his attachment to 
movable goods are more than symbolical. 

The woman believes in the man, in the man outside her, 
or in the man from whom she takes her inspiration, and 
in this fashion can take herself in earnest. The Jew takes 
nothing seriously; he is frivolous, and jests about anything, 
about the Christian's Christianity, the Jew's baptism. He 
is neither a true realist nor a true empiricist. Here I must 
state certain limitations to my agreement with Chamber- 
lain's conclusions. The Jew is not really a convinced 
empiricist in the fashion of the English philosophers. The 
empiricist believes in the possibility of reaching a complete 
system of knowledge on an empirical basis ; he hopes for 
the perfection of science. The Jew does not really believe in 


knowledge, nor is he a sceptic, for he doubts his own scepti- 
cism. On the other hand, a brooding care hovers over the 
non-metaphysical system of Avenarius, and even in Ernst 
Mach's adherence to relativity there are signs of a deeply 
reverent attitude. The empiricists must not be accused of 
Judaism because they are shallow. 

The Jew is the impious man in the widest sense. Piety 
is not something near things nor outside things ; it is the 
groundwork of everything. The Jew has been incorrectly 
called vulgar, simply because he does not concern himself 
with metaphysics. All true culture that comes from within, 
all that a man believes to be true and that so is true for 
him, depend on reverence. Reverence is not limited to the 
mystic or the religious man ; all science and all scepticism, 
everything that a man truly believes, have reverence as the 
fundamental quality. Naturally it displays itself in dif- 
ferent ways, in high seriousness and sanctity, in earnestness 
and enthusiasm. The Jew is never either enthusiastic or indif- 
ferent, he is neither ecstatic nor cold. He reaches neither the 
heights nor the depths. His restraint becomes meagreness, 
his copiousness becomes bombast. Should he venture into 
the boundless realms of inspired thought, he seldom 
reaches beyond pathos. And although he cannot embrace 
the whole world, he is for ever covetous of it. 

Discrimination and generalisation, strength and love, 
science and poetry, every real and deep emotion of the 
human heart, have reverence as their essential basis. It is 
not necessary that faith, as in men of genius, should be in 
relation only to metaphysical entity ; it can extend also to 
the empirical world and appear fully there, and yet none 
the less be faith in oneself, in worth, in truth, in the absolute, 
in God. 

As the comprehensive view of religion and piety that I 
have given may lead to misconstruction, I propose to eluci- 
date it further. True piety is not merely the possession of 
piety, but also the struggle to possess it ; it is found equally 
in the convinced believer in God (Handel or Fechner), and 
also in the doubting seeker (Lenau and Dürer) ; it need not 


be made obvious to the world (as in the case of Bach), it 
may display itself only in a reverent attitude (Mozart). Nor 
is piety necessarily connected with the appearance of a 
Founder ; the ancient Greeks were the most reverent people 
that have lived, and hence their culture was highest; but 
their religion had no personal Founder. 

Religion is the creation of the all ; and all that humanity 
can be is only through religion. So far from the Jew being 
religious, as has been assumed, he is profoundly irreligious 
! Were there need to elaborate my verdict on the Jews I 
j might point out that the Jews, alone of peoples, do not try 
to make converts to their faith, and that when converts are 
made they serve as objects of puzzled ridicule to them. 
Need I refer to the meaningless formality and the repetitions 
of Jewish prayer ? Need I remind readers that the Jewish 
religion is a mere historical tradition, a memorial of such 
incidents as the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea, with 
I the consequent thanks of cowards to their Saviour ; and 
that it is no guide to the meaning and conduct of life ? The 
Jew is truly irreligious and furthest of mankind from faith. 
There is no relation between the Jew himself and the 
universe ; he has none of the heroism of faith, just as he 
has none of the disaster of absolute unbelief. 

It is not, then, mysticism that the Jew is without, as 
Chamberlain maintains, but reverence. If he were only an 
honest-minded materialist or a frank evolutionist ! He is 
not a critic, but only critical ; he is not a sceptic in the 
Cartesian sense, not a doubter who sets out from doubt 
towards truth, but an ironist ; as, for instance, to take a 
conspicuous example, Heine. 

What, then, is the Jew if he is nothing that a man can 
be ? What goes on within him if he is utterly without 
finality, if there is no ground in him which the plumb hne 
of psychology may reach ? 

The psychological contents of the Jewish mind are always 
double or multiple. There are always before him two 
or many possibilities, where the Aryan, although he sees as 
widelv, feels himself limited in his choice. I think that the 


idea of Judaism consists in this want of reality, this absence 
of any fundamental relation to the thing-in-and-for-itself. ^ 
He stands, so to speak, outside reality, without ever entering 
it. He can never make himself one with anything — never 
enter into real relationships. He is a zealot without zeal ; .- 
he has no share in the unlimited, the unconditioned. He is 
without simplicity of faith, and so is always turning to each 
new interpretation, so seeming more alert than the Aryan. 
Internal multiplicity is the essence of Judaism, internal 
simplicity that of the Aryan. 

It might be urged that the Jewish double-mindedness is 
modern, and is the result of new knowledge struggling with 
the old orthodoxy. The education of the Jew, however, 
only accentuates his natural qualities, and the doubting 
Jew turns with a renewed zeal to money-making, in which 
only he can find his standard of value. A curious proof of 
the absence of simplicity in the mind of the Jew is that he 
seldom sings, not from bashfulness, but because he does not 
believe in his own singing. Just as the acuteness of Jews 
has nothing to do with true power of differentiating, so his 
shyness about singing or even about speaking in clear 
positive tones has nothing to do with real reserve. It is 
a kind of inverted pride ; having no true sense of his own 
worth, he fears being made ridiculous by his singing or 
speech. The embarrassment of the Jew extends to things 
which have nothing to with the real ego. 

It has been seen how difficult it is to define the Jew. He 
has neither severity nor tenderness. He is both tenacious 
and weak. He is neither king nor leader, slave nor vassal. 
He has no share in enthusiasm, and yet he has little 
equanimity. Nothing is self-evident to him, and yet he is 
astonished at nothing. He has no trace of Lohengrin in 
him, and none of Telramund. He is ridiculous as a 
member of a students' corps and he is equally ridiculous 
as a "philister." Because he believes in nothing, he takes 
refuge in materialism ; from this arises his avarice, which is 
simply an attempt to convince himself that something has 
a permanent value. And yet he is no real tradesman ; what 


is unreal, insecure in German commerce, is the result of the 
Jewish speculative interest. 

The erotics of the Jew are sentimentalisni, and their 
humour is satire. Perhaps examples may help to explain 
my interpretation of the Jewish character, and I point 
readily to Ibsen's King Hakon in the " Pretenders," and to 
his Dr. Stockmann in '* The Enemy of the People." These 
may make clear what is for ever absent in the Jew. Judaism 
and Christianity form the greatest possible contrasts ; the 
former is bereft of all true faith and of inner identity, the 
latter is the highest expression of the highest faith. Chris- 
tianity is heroism at its highest point ; Judaism is the extreme 
of cowardliness. 

Chamberlain has said much that is true and striking as to 
the fearful awe-struck want of understanding that the Jew 
displays with regard to the person and teaching of Christ, 
for the combination of warrior and sufferer in Him, for His 
life and death. None the less, it would be wrong to state 
that the Jew is an enemy of Christ, that he represents the 
anti-Christ ; it is only that he feels no relation with Him. 
It is strong-minded Aryans, malefactors, who hate Jesus. 
The Jew does not get beyond being bewildered and 
disturbed by Him, as something that passes his wit to 

And yet it has stood the Jew in good stead that the New 
Testament seemed the outcome and fine flower of the Old, 
the fulfilment of its Messianic prophecies. The polar oppo- 
sition between Judaism and Christianity makes the origin of 
the latter from the former a deep riddle ; it is the riddle of 
the psychology of the founder of religions. 

What is the difference between the genius who founds a 
religion and other kinds of genius ? What is it that has led 
him to found the religion ? 

The main difference is no other than that he did not 
always believe in the God he worships. Tradition relates 
of Buddha, as of Christ, that they were subject to greater 
temptations than other men. Two others, Mahomet and 
Luther, were epileptic. Epilepsy is the disease of the 


criminal ; Caesar, Narses, Napoleon, the greatest of the 
criminals, were epileptics. 

The founder of a religion is the man who has lived 
without God and yet has struggled towards the greatest 
faith. How is it possible for a bad man to transform him- 
self ? As Kant, although he was compelled to admit the fact, 
asked in his " Philosophy of Religion," how can an evil tree 
bring forth good fruit ? The inconceivable mystery of the 
transformation into a good man of one who has lived evilly 
all the days and years of his life has actually realised itself 
in the case of some six or seven historical personages. 
These have been the founders of religions. 

Other men of genius are good from their birth ; the 
religious founder acquires goodness. The old existence 
ceases utterly and is replaced by the new. The greater the 
man, the more must perish in him at the regeneration. I 
am inclined to think that Socrates, alone amongst the 
Greeks, approached closely to the founders of religion ; 
perhaps he made the decisive struggle with evil in the four- 
and-twenty hours during which he stood alone at Potidaea. 

The founder of a religion is the man for whom no problem 
has been solved from his birth. He is the man with the 
least possible sureness of conviction, for whom everything 
is doubtful and uncertain, and who has to conquer every- 
thing for himself in this life. One has to struggle against 
illness and physical weakness, another trembles on the 
brink of the crimes which are possible for him, yet another 
has been in the bonds of sin from his birth. It is only a 
formal statement to say that original sin is the same in all 
persons ; it differs materially for each person. Here one, 
there another, each as he was born, has chosen what is 
senseless and worthless, has preferred instinct to his will, or 
pleasure to love ; only the founder of a religion has had 
original sin in its absolute form ; in him everything is 
doubtful, everything is in question. He has to meet every 
problem and free himself from all guilt. He has to reach 
firm ground from the deepest abyss ; he has to surmount 
the nothingness in him and bind himself to the utmost 


reality. And so it may be said of him that he frees himself 
of original sin, that in him God becomes man, but also 
that the man becomes God ; in him was all error and 
all guilt ; in him there comes to be all expiation and 

Thus the founder of a religion is the greatest of the 
geniuses, for he has vanquished the most. He is the man 
who has accomplished victoriously what the deepest 
thinkers of mankind have thought of only timorously as 
a possibility, the complete regeneration of a man, the 
reversal of his will. Other great men of genius have, 
indeed, to fight against evil, but the bent of their souls is 
towards the good. The founder of a religion has so much 
in him of evil, of the perverse, of earthly passion, that he 
must fight with the enemy withm him for forty days in the 
wilderness, without food or sleep. It was only thus that he 
can conquer and overcome the death within him and free 
himself for the highest life. Were it otherwise there would 
be no impulse to found a faith. The founder of a religion 
is thus the very antipodes of the emperor ; emperor and 
Galilean are at the two poles of thought. In Napoleon's 
life, also, there was a moment when a conversion took 
place; but this was not a turning away from earthly life, but 
the deliberate decision tor the treasure and power and 
splendour of the earthly life. Napoleon was great in the 
colossal intensity with which he flung from him all the 
ideal, all relation to the absolute, in the magnitude of his 
guilt. The founder of religion, on the other hand, cannot 
and will not bring to man anything except that which was 
most difficult for himself to attain, the reconciliation with 
God. He knows that he himself was the man most laden 
with guilt, and he atones for the guilt by his death on the 


There were two possibilities in Judaism. Before the 
birth of Christ, these two, negation and affirmation, were 
together awaiting choice. Christ was the man who con- 
quered in Himself Judaism, the greatest negation, and 
created Christianity, the strongest affirmation and the most 


direct opposite of Judaism. Now the choice has been 
made ; the old Israel has divided into Jews and Christians, 
and Judaism has lost the possibility of producing greatness. 
The new Judaism has been unable to produce men like 
Samson and Joshua, the least Jewish of the old Jews. In 
the history of the world, Christendom and Jewry represent 
negation and affirmation. In old Israel there was the 
highest possibility of mankind, the possibility of Christ. 
The other possibility is the Jew. 

I must guard against misconception ; I do not mean that 
there was any approach to Christianity in Judaism; the one 
is the absolute negation of the other ; the relation between 
the two is only that which exists between all pairs of direct 
opposites. Even more than in the case of piety and Judaism, 
Judaism and Christianity can best be contrasted by what 
each respectively excludes. Nothing is easier than to be 
Jewish, nothing so difficult as to be Christian. Judaism is 
the abyss over which Christianity is erected, and for that 
reason the Aryan dreads nothing so deeply as the Jew. 

I am not disposed to believe, with Chamberlain, that the 
birth of the Saviour in Palestine was an accident. Christ 
was a Jew, precisely that He might overcome the Judaism 
within Him, for he who triumphs over the deepest doubt 
reaches the highest faith ; he who has raised himself above 
the most desolate negation is most sure in his position of 
affirmation. Judaism was the peculiar, original sin of 
Christ ; it was His victory over Judaism that made Him 
greater than Buddha or Confucius. Christ was the greatest 
man because He conquered the greatest enemy. Perhaps 
He was, and will remain, the only Jew to conquer Judaism. 
The first of the Jews to become wholly the Christ was also 
the last who made the transition. It may be, however, that 
there still lies in Judaism the possibility of producing 
a Christ, and that the founder of the next religion will pass 
through Jewry. 

On no other supposition can we account for the long 
persistence of the Jewish race which has outlived so many 
other peoples. Without at least some vague hope, the Jews 


could not have survived, and the hope is that there must be 
something in Judaism for Judaism ; it is the idea of a Mes- 
siah, of one who shall save them from Judaism. Every 
other race has had some special watchword, and, on realis- 
ing their watchword, they have perished. The Jews have 
failed to realise their watchword, and so their vitality per- 
sists. The Jewish nature has no other metaphysical mean- 
ing than to be the spring from which the founders of 
rehgion will come. Their tradition to increase and multiply 
is connected with this vague hope, that out of them shall 
come the Messiah, The possibility of begetting Christs is 
the meaning of Judaism. % 

As in the Jew there are the greatest possibilities, so also 
in him are the meanest actualities ; he is adapted to most 
things and realises fewest. 

Judaism, at the present day, has reached its highest point 
since the time of Herod. Judaism is the spirit of modern 
life. Sexuality is accepted, and contemporary ethics sing 
the praises of pairing. Unhappy Nietzsche must not be 
made responsible for the shameful doctrines of Wilhelm 
Bölsche. Nietzsche himself understood asceticism, and 
perhaps it was only as a revulsion from the evils of his own 
asceticism that he attached value to the opposite concep- 
tion. It is the Jew and the woman who are the apostles of 
pairing to bring guilt on humanity. 

Our age is not only the most Jewish but the most feminine. 
It is a time when art is content with daubs and seeks its 
inspiration in the sports of animals ; the time of a superficial 
anarchy, with no feeling for Justice and the State ; a time 
of communistic ethics, of the most foolish of historical 
views, the materialistic interpretation of history ; a time of 
capitalism and of Marxism ; a time when history, life, and 
science are no more than political economy and technical 
instruction ; a time when genius is supposed to be a form 
of madness ; a time with no great artists and no great 
philosophers ; a time without originality and yet with the 
most foolish craving for originality; a time when the cult 
of the Virgin has been replaced by that of the Demi- 


vierge. It is the time when pairing has not only been 
approved but has been enjoined as a duty. 

But from the new Judaism the new Christianity may be 
pressing forth ; mankind waits for the new founder of reli- 
gion, and, as in the year one, the age presses for a decision. 
The decision must be made between Judaism and Chris- 
tianity, between business and culture, between male and 
female, between the race and the individual, between un- 
worthiness and worth, between the earthly and the higher 
life, between negation and the God-like. Mankind has the 
choice to make. There are only two poles, and there is no 
middle way. 



At last we are ready, clear-eyed and well armed, to deal 
with the question of the emancipation of women. Our 
eyes are clear, for we have freed them from the thronging 
specks of dubiety that had hitherto obscured the question, 
and we are armed with a well-founded grasp of theory, and 
a secure ethical basis. We are far from the maze in which 
this controversy usually lies, and our investigation has got 
beyond the mere statement of different natural capacity 
for men and women, to a point whence the part of women 
in the world-whole and the meaning of her relation to 
humanity can be estimated. I am not going to deal with 
any practical applications of my results ; the latter are not 
nearly optimistic enough for me to hope that they could 
have any effect on the progress of political movements. I 
refrain from working out laws of social hygiene, and content 
myself with facing the problem from the standpoint of that 
conception of humanity which pervades the philosophy of 
Immanuel Kant. 

This conception is in great danger from woman. Woman 
is able, in a quite extraordinary way, to produce the im- 
pression that she herself is really non-sexual, and that her 
sexuality is only a concession to man. But be that as it 
may, at the present time men have almost allowed them- 
selves to be persuaded by woman that their strongest and 
most markedly characteristic desire lies in sexuality, that it 
is only through woman that they can hope to satisfy their 
truest and best ambitions, and that chastity is an un- 
natural and impossible state for them. How often it 


happens that young men who are wrapped up in their work 
are told by women to whom they appeal and who would 
prefer to have them paying them attention, or even as sons- 
in-law, that " they ought not to work too hard," that they 
ought to " enjoy life." At the bottom of this sort of advice 
there lies a feeling on the woman's part, which is none 
the less real because it is unconscious, that her whole 
significance and existence depend on her mission as a 
procreating agent, and that she goes to the wall if man is 
allowed to occupy himself altogether with other than sexual 

That women will ever change in this respect is doubtful. 
There is nothing to show that she ever was different. It 
may be that to-day the physical side of the question is more 
to the fore than formerly, since a great deal of the " woman 
movement" of the times is merely a desire to be "free," to 
shake off the trammels of motherhood ; as a whole the 
practical results show that it is revolt from motherhood 
towards prostitution, a prostitute emancipation rather than 
the emancipation of woman that is aimed at : a bold bid for 
the success of the courtesan. The only real change is man's 
behaviour towards the movement. Under the influence of 
modern Judaism, men seem inclined to accept woman's 
estimate of them and to bow before it. 

Masculine chastity is laughed at, and the feeling that 
woman is the evil influence in man's life is no longer under- 
stood, and men are not ashamed of their own lust. 

It is now apparent from where this demand for " seeing 
life," the Dionysian view of the music-hall, the cult of 
Goethe in so far as he follows Ovid, and this quite modern 
"coitus-cult" comes. There is no doubt that the move- 
ment is so widespread that very few men have the courage 
to acknowledge their chastity, preferring to pretend that 
they are regular Don Juans. Sexual excess is held to be 
the most desirable characteristic of a man of the world, and 
sexuality has attained such pre-eminence that a man is 
doubted unless he can, as it were, show proofs of his 
prowess. Chastity, on the other hand, is so despised that 


many a really pure lad attempts to appear a blase roue. It 
is even true that those who are modest are ashamed of the 
feeling ; but there is another, the modern form of shame — 
not the eroticist's shame, but the shame of the woman who 
has no lover, who has not received appraisement from the 
opposite sex. Hence it comes that men make it their 
business to tell each other what a rignt and proper pleasure 
they take in " doing their duty " by the opposite sex. And 
women are careful to let it be known that only what is 
" manly " in man can appeal to them : and man takes their 
measure of his manliness and makes it his own. Man's 
qualifications as a male have, in fact, become identical with 
his value with women, in women's eyes. 

But God forbid that it should be so ; that w ould mean 
that there are no longer any men. 

Contrast with this the fact that the high value set on 
women's virtue originated with man, and w^ill always 
come from men worthy of the name ; it is the projection 
of man's own ideal of spotless purity on the object of his 

But there should be no mistaking this true chastity for 
the shivering and shaking before contact, which is soon 
changed for delighted acquiescence, nor for the hysterical 
suppression of sexual desires. The outward endeavour to 
correspond to man's demand for physical purity must not 
be taken for anything but a fear lest the buyer will fight 
shy of the bargain ; least of all the care which women so 
often take to choose only the man who can give them most 
value must not deceive any one (it has been called the 
"high value" or '* self-respect" a girl has for herself) ! If 
one remembers the view women take of virginity, there 
can be very little doubt that woman's one end is the 
bringing about of universal pairing as the only means by 
which they acquire a real existence ; that women desire 
pairing, and nothing else, even if they personally appear to 
be as uninterested as possible in sensual matters. All this 
can be fully proved from the generality of the match- 
making instinct. 


In order to be fully persuaded of this, woman's attitude 
towards the virginity of those of her own sex must be 

It is certain that women have a very low opinion of the 
unmarried. It is, in fact, the one female condition which 
has a negative value for woman. Women only respect a 
woman when she is married ; even if she is unhappily 
married to a hideous, weak, poor, common, tyrannical, 
" impossible " man, she is, nevertheless, married, has 
received value, existence. Even if a woman has had a 
short experience of the freedom of a courtesan's life, even 
if she has been on the streets, she still stands higher in a 
woman's estimation than the old maid, who works and 
toils alone in her room, without ever having known lawful 
or unlawful union with a man, the enduring or fleeting 
ecstasy of love. 

Even a young and beautiful girl is never valued by a 
woman for her attractions as such (the sense of the beauti- 
ful is wanting in woman since they have no standard in 
themselves to measure it by), but merely because she has 
more prospect of enslaving a man. The more beautiful a 
young girl is, the more promising she appears to other 
women, the greater her value to woman as the match- 
maker in her mission as guardian of the race ; it is only 
this unconscious feeling which makes it possible for a 
woman to take pleasure in the beauty of a young girl. 
It goes without saying that this can only happen when 
the woman in question has already achieved her own 
end (because, otherwise, envy of a contemporary, and the 
fear of having her own chances jeopardised by others, 
would overcome other considerations). She must first 
of all attain her own union, and then she is ready to help 

Women are altogether to blame for the unpleasant asso- 
ciations which are so unfortunately connected with "old 
maids." One often hears men talking respectfully of an 
elderly woman ; but every woman and girl, whether married 
or single, has nothing but contempt for such a one, even 


when, as is often the case, they are unconscious that it is so 
with them. I once heard a married woman, whose talents 
and beauty put jealousy quite out of the question, making 
fun of her plain and elderly Italian governess for repeatedly 
saying that : " lo sono ancora una virgine " (that she was 
still a virgin). The interpretation put on the words was 
that the speaker wished to admit she had made a virtue of 
necessity, and would have been very glad to get rid of her 
virginity if she could have done so without detriment to her 
position in life. 

This is the most important point of all : women not 
only disparage and despise the virginity of other women, 
but they set no value on their own state of virginity (except 
that men prize it so highly). This is why they look upon 
every married woman as a sort of superior being. The 
deep impression made on women by the sexual act can be 
most plainly seen by the respect which girls pay to a married 
woman, of however short a standing ; which points to their 
idea of their existence being the attainment of the same 
zenith themselves. They look upon other young girls, on 
the contrary, as being, like themseves, still imperfect beings 
awaiting consummation. 

I think I have said enough to show that experience con- 
firms the deduction I made from the importance of the 
pairing instinct in women, the deduction that virgin worship 
is of male, not female origin. 

A man demands chastity in himself and others, most of 
all from the being he loves ; a woman wants the man with 
most experience and sensuality, not virtue. Woman has 
no comprehension of paragons. On the contrary, it 
is well known that a woman is most ready to fly to the 
arms of the man with the widest reputation for bemg a 
Don Juan. 

Wom^an requires man to be sexual, because she only 
gains existence through his sexuality. Women have no 
sense of a man's love, as a superior phenomenon, they only 
perceive that side of him which unceasingly desires and 
appropriates the object of his affections, and men who have 


none or very little of the instinct of brutality developed in 
them have no influence on them. 

As for the higher, platonic love of man, they do not 
want it ; it flatters and pleases them, but it has no signi- 
ficance for them, and if the homage on bended knees 
lasts too long, Beatrice becomes just as impatient as Mes- 

In coitus lies woman's greatest humiliation, in love her 
supremest exaltation. Since woman desires coitus and not 
love, she proves that she wishes to be humiliated and not 
worshipped. The ultimate opponent of the emancipation 
of women is woman. 

It is not because sexual union is voluptuous, not because 
it is the typical example of all the pleasures of the lower 
life, that it is immoral. Asceticism, which would regard 
pleasure in itself as immoral, is itself immoral, inasmuch 
it attributes immorality to an action because of the external 
consequences of it, not because of immorality in the thing 
itself ; it is the imposition of an alien, not an inherent law. 
A man may seek pleasure, he may strive to make his life 
easier and more pleasant ; but he must not sacrifice a moral 
law. Asceticism attempts to make man moral by self- 
repression and will give him credit and praise for morality 
simply because he has denied himself certain things. 
Asceticism must be rejected from the point of view of 
ethics and of psychology inasmuch as it makes virtue the 
efifect of a cause, and not the thing itself. Asceticism is a 
dangerous although attractive guide ; since pleasure is one 
of the chief things that beguile men from the higher path, 
it is easy to suppose that its mere abandonment is 

In itself, however, pleasure is neither moral nor immoral. 
It is only when the desire for pleasure conquers the desire 
for worthiness that a human being has fallen. 

Coitus is immoral because there is no man who does not 
use woman at such times as a means to an end ; for whom 
pleasure does not, in his own as well as her being, during 
that time represent the value of mankind. 


During coitus a man forgets all about everything, he 
forgets the woman ; she has no longer a psychic but only 
a physical existence for him. He either desires a child by 
her or the satisfaction of his own passion ; in neither case 
does he use her as an end in herself, but for an outside cause. 
This and this alone makes coitus immoral. 

There is no doubt that woman is the missionary of sexual 
union, and that she looks upon herself, as on everything else, 
merely as a means to its ends. She wants a man to satisfy 
her passion or to obtain children ; she is willing to be used 
by man as a tool, as a thing, as an object, to be treated as 
his property, to be changed and modelled according to his 
good pleasure. But we should not allow ourselves to be 
used by others as means to an end. 

Kundry appealed often to Parsifal's compassion for her 
yearnings : but here we see the weakness of sympathetic 
morality, which attempts to grant every desire of those 
around, however wrong such wishes may be. Ethics 
and morality based on sympathy are equally absurd, since 
they make the " ought " dependent on the " will," (whether 
it be the will of oneself, or of others, or of society, it is all 
the same,) instead of making the "will" dependent on the 
" ought " ; they take as a standard of morality concrete 
cases of human history, concrete cases of human happiness, 
concrete moments in life instead of the idea. 

But the question is : how ought man to treat woman ? 
As she herself desires to be treated or as the moral idea 
would dictate ? 

If he is going to treat her as she wishes, he must have 
intercourse with her, for she desires it ; he must beat her, 
for she likes to be hurt ; he must hypnotise her, since she 
wishes to be hypnotised ; he must prove to her by 
his attentions how little he thinks of himself, for she 
likes compliments, and has no desire to be respected for 

If he is going to treat her as the moral idea demands, 
he must try to see in her the concept of mankind 
and endeavour to respect her. Even although woman 



is only a function of man, a function he can degrade 
or raise at will, and women do not wish to be more 
or anything else than what man makes them, it is no 
more a moral arrangement than the suttee of Indian 
widows, which, even though it be voluntary and insisted 
upon by them, is none the less terrible barbarity. 

The emancipation of woman is analogous to the eman- 
cipation of Jews and negroes. Undoubtedly the principal 
reason why these people have been treated as slaves and 
inferiors is to be found in their servile dispositions ; their 
desire for freedom is not nearly so strong as that of the 
Indo-Germans. And even although tHe whites in America 
at the present day find it necessary to keep themselves quite 
aloof from the negro population because they make such a 
bad use of their freedom, yet in the war of the Northern 
States against the Federals, which resulted in the freedom 
of the slaves, right was entirely on the side of the emanci- 

Although the humanity of Jews, negroes, and still more of 
women, is weighed down by many immoral impulses ; 
although in these cases there is so much more to fight 
against than in the case of Aryan men, still we must try to 
respect mankind, and to venerate the idea of humanity (by 
which I do not mean the human community, but the being, 
man, the soul as part of the spiritual world). No matter 
how degraded a criminal may be, no one ought to arrogate 
to himself the functions of the law ; no man has the right 
to lynch such an offender. 

The problem of woman and the problem of the Jews are 
absolutely identical with the problem of slavery, and they 
must be solved in the same way. No one should be op- 
pressed, even if the oppression is of such a kind as to be 
unfelt as such. The animals about a house are not 
" slaves," because they have no freedom in the proper 
sense of the word which could be taken away. 

But woman has a faint idea of her incapacity, a last 
remnant, however weak, of the free intelligible ego, simply 
because there is no such thing as an absolute woman. 


Women are human beings, and must be treatea as such, 
even if they themselves do not wish it. Woman and man 
have the same rights. That is not to say that women ought 
to have an equal share in political affairs. From the 
utilitarian standpoint such a concession, certainly at present 
and probably always, would be most undesirable ; in New 
Zealand, where, on ethical principles, women have been 
enfranchised, the worst results have followed. As children, 
imbeciles and criminals would be justly prevented from 
taking any part in public affairs even if they were numeri- 
cally equal or in the majority ; woman must in the same way 
be kept from having a share in anything which concerns 
the public welfare, as it is much to be feared that the mere 
effect of female influence would be harmful. Just as the 
results of science do not depend on whether all men accept 
them or not, so justice and injustice can be dealt out to 
the woman, although she is unable to distinguish between 
them, and she need not be afraid that injury will be done 
her, as justice and not might will be the deciding factor 
in her treatment. But justice is always the same whether 
for man or woman. No one has a right to forbid things 
to a woman because they are " unwomanly " ; neither 
should any man be so mean as to talk of his unfaithful 
wife's doings as if they were his affair. Woman must be 
looked upon as an individual and as if she were a free 
individual, not as one of a species, not as a sort of 
creation from the various wants of man's nature ; even 
though woman herself may never prove worthy of such a 
lofty view. 

Thus this book may be considered as the greatest honour 
ever paid to women. Nothing but the most moral relation 
towards women should be possible for men ; there should 
be neither sexuality nor love, for both make woman the 
means to an end, but only the attempt to understand her. 
Most men theoretically respect women, but practically 
they thoroughly despise them ; according to my ideas this 
method should be reversed. It is impossible to think highly 
pf women, but it does not follow that we are to despise 


them for ever. It is unfortunate that so many great ano 
famous men have had mean views on this point. The views 
of Schopenhauer and Demosthenes as to the emancipation 
of women are good instances. So also Goethe's 

Immer is so das Mädchen beschäftigt und reifet im stillen 
Häuslicher Tugend entgegen, den klugen Mann zu beglücken. 
Wünscht sie dann endlich zu lesen, so wählt sie gewisslich ein 

is scarcely better than Moliere's 

. . . Une femme en sait tonjours assez, 
Quand la capacite de son esprit se hausse 
A connaitre un pourpoint d'avec un haut de chausse. 

Men will have to overcome their dislike for masculine 
women, for that is no more than a mean egoism. If 
women ever become masculine by becoming logical and 
ethical, they would no longer be such good material for man's 
projection ; but that is not a sufficient reason for the present 
method of tying woman down to the needs of her husband 
and children and forbidding her certain things because they 
are masculine. 

For even if the possibility of morality is incompatible 
with the idea of the absolute woman, it does not follow 
that man is to make no effort to save the average woman 
from further deterioration ; much less is he to help to keep 
woman as she is. In every living woman the presence of 
what Kant calls "the germ of good" must be assumed ; it 
is the remnant of a free state which makes it possible for 
Woman to have a dim notion of her destiny. The theo- 
retical possibility of grafting much more on this " germ 
of good " should never be lost sight of, even although 
nothing has ever been done, or even if nothing could ever 
be done in that respect. 

The basis and the purpose of the universe is the good, 
and the whole world exists under a moral law ; even to the 
animals, which are mere phenomena, we assign moral values^ 
holding the elephant, for instance, to be higher than the 


snake, notwithstanding the fact that we do not make an 
animal accountable when it kills another. In the case of 
woman, however, we regard her as responsible if she com- 
mits murder, and in this alone is a proof that women are 
above the animals. If it be the case that womanliness is 
simply immorality, then woman must cease to be womanly 
and try to be manly. 

I must give warning against the danger of woman trying 
merely to liken herself outwardly to man, for such a course 
would simply plunge her more deeply into womanliness. 
It is only too likely that the efforts to emancipate women 
will result not in giving her real freedom, in letting her 
reach free-will, but merely in enlarging the range of her 

It seems to me that if we look the facts of the case in 
the face there are only two possible courses open for 
women : either to pretend to accept man's ideas, and to 
think that they believe what is really opposed to their 
whole, unchanged nature, to assume a horror of immorality 
(as if they were moral themselves), of sexuality (as if they 
desired platonic love) ; or to openly admit that they are 
wrapped up in husband and children, without bein.i^ con- 
scious of all that such an admission implies, of the shame- 
lessness and self-immolation of it. 

Unconscious hypocrisy, or cynical identification with 
their natural instincts ; nothing else seems possible for 

But it is neither agreement nor disagreement with, but 
rather the denial and overcoming of her womanishness 
that a woman should aim at. If a woman really were to 
wish, for instance, for man's chastity, it would mean that 
she had conquered the woman in her, it would mean that 
pairing was no longer of supreme importance to her and 
that her aim was no longer to further it. But here is 
the trouble : such pretensions must not be accepted as 
genuine, even although here and there they are actually 
put forward. For a woman who longed for man's purity 
is, apart from her hysteria, so stupid and so incapable of 


truthfulness that she is unable to perceive that she is in this 
way negating herself, making herself absolutely worthless, 
without existence ! 

It is difficult to decide which is preferable : the unlimited 
hypocrisy which can appropriate the thing that is most 
foreign to it, i.e., the ascetic ideal, or the ingenuous admira- 
tion for the reformed rake, the complacent devotion to him. 
The principal problem of the woman question lies in the 
fact that in each case woman's one desire is to put all 
responsibility on man, and in this it is identical with the 
problem of mankind. 

Friedrich Nietzsche says in one of his books : " To 
underestimate the real difficulties of the man and woman 
problem, to fail to admit the abysmal antagonism and the 
inevitable nature of the constant strain between the two, to 
dream of equal rights, education, responsibilities and duties, 
is the mark of the superficial observer, and any thinker who 
has been found shallow in these difficult places — shallow by 
nature — should be looked upon as untrustworthy, as a 
useless and treacherous guide ; he will, no doubt, be one of 
those who 'briefly deal with' all the real problems of life, 
death and eternity — who never gets to the bottom of things. 
But the man who is not superficial, who has depth of 
thought as well as of purpose, the depth which not only 
makes him desire right but endows him with determination 
and strength to do right, must always look on woman from 
the oriental standpoint : — as a possession, as private property, 
as something born to serve and be dependent on him — he 
must see the marvellous reasonableness of the Asiatic instinct 
of superiority over women, as the Greeks of old saw it, 
those worthy successors and disciples of the Eastern school. 
It was an attitude towards woman which, as is well known, 
from Homer's time till that of Pericles, grew with the 
growth of culture, and increased in strength step by step, 
and gradually became quite oriental. What a necessary, 
logical, desirable growth for mankind ! if we could only 
attain to it ourselves ! " 

The great individualist is here thinking in the terms of 


social ethics, and the autonomy of his moral doctrine is over- 
shadowed by the ideas of caste, groups, and divisions. 
And so, for the benefit of society, to preserve the place of 
men, he would place woman in subjection, so that the 
voice of the wish for emancipation could no longer be 
heard, and so that we might be freed from the false and 
foolish cry of the existing advocates of women's rights, ad- 
vocates who have no suspicion of the real source of woman 
bondage. But I quoted Nietzsche, not to convict him of 
want of logic, but to lead to the point that the solution of 
the problem of humanity is bound up with the solution of 
the woman problem. If any one should think it a high- 
flown idea that man should respect woman as an entity, a 
real existence, and not use her merely as a means to an 
end, that he should recognise in her the same rights and 
the same duties (those of building up one's own moral 
personality) as his own, then he must reflect that man 
cannot solve the ethical problem in his own case, if he 
continues to lower the idea of humanity in the women by 
using her simply for his own purposes. 

Coitus is the price man has to pay to women, undei the 
Asiatic system, for their oppression. And although it is true 
that women may be more than content with such recom- 
pence for the worst form of slavery, man has no right to 
take part in such conduct, simply because he also is morally 
damaged by it. 

Even technically the problem of humanity is not soluble 
for man alone ; he has to consider woman even if he only 
wishes to redeem himself ; he must endeavour to get her to 
abandon her immoral designs on him. Women must really 
and truly and spontaneously relinquish coitus. That un- 
doubtedly means that woman, as woman, must disappear, 
and until that has come to pass there is no possibility of 
establishing the kingdom of God on earth. Pythagoras, 
Plato, Christianity (as opposed to Judaism), Tertullian, 
Swift, Wagner, Ibsen, all these have urged the freedom of 
woman, not the emancipation of woman from man, but 
rather the emancipation of woman from herself. 


It is easy to bear Nietzsche's anathema in such company ! 
But it is very hard for woman to reach such a goal by her 
own strength. The spark in her is so flickering that it 
always needs the fire of man to relight it ; she must have an 
example to go by. Christ is an example ; He freed the 
fallen Magdalen, He swept away her past and expiated it for 
her. Wagner, the greatest man since Christ's time, under- 
stood to the full the real significance of that act : until 
woman ceases to exist as woman for man she cannot cease 
being woman. Kundry could only be released from 
Klingsor's curse by the help of a sinless, immaculate man — 
Parsifal. This shows ^the complete harmony between the 
psychological and philosophical deduction which is dealt 
with in Wagner's " Parsifal," the greatest work in the world's 
literature. It is man's sexuality which first gives woman 
existence as woman. Woman will exist as long as man's 
guilt is inexpiated, until he has really vanquished his own 

It is only in this way that the eternal opposition to all 
anti-feministic tendencies can be avoided ; the view that 
says, since woman is there, being what she is, and not to 
be altered, man must endeavour to make terms with her ; 
it is useless to fight, because there is nothing which can be 
exterminated. But it has been shown that woman is nega- 
tive and ceases to exist the moment man determines to be 
nothing but true existence. 

That which must be fought against is not an affair of 
ever unchangeable existence and essence : it is something 
which can be put an end to, and which ought to be put an 
end to. 

This is the way, and no other, to solve the woman ques- 
tion, and this comes from comprehending it. The solution 
may appear impossible, its tone exaggerated, its claims over- 
stated, its requirements too exacting. Undoubtedly there 
has been little said about the woman question, as women 
talk of it ; we have been dealing with a subject on which 


women are silent, and must always remain silent — the 
bondage which sexuality implies. 

This woman question is as old as sex itself, and as young 
as mankind. And the answer to it ? Man must free him- 
self of sex, for in that way, and that way alone, can he free 
woman. In his purity, not, as she believes, in his impurity, 
lies her salvation. She must certainly be destroyed, as 
woman ; but only to be raised again from the ashes — new, 
restored to youth — as a real human being. 

So long as there are two sexes there will always be a 
woman question, just as there will be the problem of mankind. 
Christ was mindful of this when, according to the account 
of one of the Fathers of the Church — Clemens — He talked 
with Salome, without the optimistic palliation of the 
sex which St. Paul and Luther invented later : death will 
last so long as women bring forth, and truth will not 
prevail until the two become one, until from man and 
woman a third self, neither man nor woman, is evolved. 

Now for the first time, looking at the woman question as 
the most important problem of mankind, the demand for 
the sexual abstinence on the part of both sexes is put 
forward with good reason. To seek to ground this claim, 
on the prejudicial effects on the health following sexual 
intercourse would be absurd, for any one with knowledge 
of the physical frame could upset such a theory at all 
points ; to found it on the immorality of passion would also 
be wrong, because that would introduce a heteronomous 
motive into ethics. St. Augustine, however, must certainly 
have been aware, when he advocated chastity for all man- 
kind, that the objection raised to it would be that m such a 
case the whole human race would quickly disappear from 
the face of the earth. 

This extraordmary apprehension, the worst part of which 
appears to be the thought that the race would be extermi- 
nated, shows not only the greatest unbelief in individual 
immortality and eternal life for moral well-doers ; it is not 


only most irreligious, but it proves at the same time the 
cowardice of man and his incapacity to live an individual 
life. To any one who thinks thus, the earth can only mean 
the turmoil and press of those on it ; death must seem less 
terrible to such a man than isolation. If the immortal, 
moral part of his personality were really vigorous, he would 
have courage to look this result in the face ; he would 
not fear the death of the body, nor attempt to substitute 
the miserable certainty of the continuation of the race 
for his lack of faith in the eternal life of the soul. The 
rejection of sexuality is merely the death of the physical 
life, to put m its place the full development of the spiritual 

Hence it follows that it cannot be a moral duty to provide 
for the continuance of the race. This common argument 
appears to me to be so extraordinarily false that I am 
almost ashamed to meet it. Yet at the risk of making 
myself ridiculous I must ask if any one ever consummated 
coitus to avoid the great danger of letting the human race 
die out, if he failed in his duty ? And would it not follow 
that any man who prefers chastity would be open to the 
charge of immoral conduct ? Every form of fecundity is 
loathsome, and no one who is honest with himself feels 
bound to provide for the continuity of the human race. 
And what we do not realise to be a duty, is not a duty. 

On the contrary, it is immoral to procreate a human being 
for any secondary reason, to bring a being into the limita- 
tions of humanity, the conditions made for him by his 
parentage ; the fundamental reason why the possible freedom 
and spontaneity of a human being is limited is that he was 
begotten in such an immoral fashion. That the human race 
should persist is of no interest whatever to reason ; he who 
would perpetuate humanity would perpetuate the problem 
and the guilt, the only problem and the only guilt. The 
only true goal is divinity and the union of humanity with 
the Godhead ; that is the real choice between good and 
evil, between existence and negation. The moral sanction 
that has been invented for coitus, in supposing that there 


is an ideal attitude to the act in which only the propagation 
of the race is thought of, is no sufficient defence. There is 
no such imperative in the mind of man ; it is merely an 
ingenious defence of a desire, and there is the fundamental 
immorality in it, that the being to be created has no power 
of choice with regard to his parents. As for the sexual 
union in which the production of children is prevented, 
there is no possible justification. 

Sexual union has no place in the idea of mankind, not 
because ascetism is a duty, but because in it woman becomes 
the object, the cause, and man does what he will with her, 
looks upon her merely as a " thing," not as a living human 
being with an inner, psychic, existence. And so man 
despises woman the moment coitus is over, and the woman 
knows that she is despised, even although a few minutes 
before she thought herself adored. 

The only thing to be respected in man is the idea of 
mankind ; this disparagement of woman (and himself), in- 
duced by coitus, is the surest proof that it is opposed to that 
idea of mankind. Any one who is ignorant of what this 
Kantian "idea of mankind" means, may perhaps under- 
stand it when he thinks of his sisters, his mother, his female 
relatives ; it concerns them all : for our own sakes, then, 
woman ought to treated as human, respected and not 
degraded, all sexuality implying degradation. 

But man can only respect woman when she herself ceases 
to wish to be object and material for man ; if there is any 
question of emancipation it should be the emancipation from 
the prostitute element. It has never until now been made 
clear where the bondage of woman lies ; it is in the sove- 
reign, all too welcome power wielded on them by the 
Phallus. Th .;re can be no doubt that the men who have 
really desired the emancipation of women are the men who 
are not very sexual, who have no great craving for love, 
who are not very profound, but who are men of noble and 
spiritual minds. I am not going to try to palliate the 
erotic motives of man, nor to represent his antipathy to 
the " emancipated woman " as being in any sense less than 


it is; it is much easier to go with the majority, than, as 
Kant did, to dimb, painfully and slowly, to the heights of 

But a great deal of what is taken for enmity to emanci- 
pation is due to the want of confidence in its possibility. 
Man does not really want woman as a slave : he is usually 
only too anxious for a companion. The education which 
the woman of the present day receives is not calculated 
to fit her for the battle against her real bondage. The last 
resource of her " womanly " teacher, if she declines to do 
this or that, is to say that no man will have her unless she 
does it. Women's education is directed solely to prepar- 
ing them for their marriage, the happy state in which 
they are to find their crown. Such training would have 
little effect on man, but it serves to accentuate woman's 
womanishness, her dependence, and her servile condition. 
The education of woman must be taken out of the hands 
of woman ; the education of mankind must be taken out 
of the hands of the mother. This is the first step towards 
placing woman in a relation to the idea of mankind, which 
since the beginning she has done more than anything else 
to hinder. 

A woman who had really given up her sexual self, who 
wished to be at peace would be no longer " woman." She 
would have ceased to be " woman," she would have received 
the inward and spiritual sign as well as the outward form of 

Can such a thing be ? 

There is no absolute woman, but even so to say " yes " 
to the above question is like giving one's assent to a miracle. 
Emancipation will not make woman happier ; it will not 
ensure her salvation, and it is a long road which leads to 
God. No being in the transition stage between freedom 
and slavery can be happy. But will woman choose to 
abandon slavery in order to become unhappy ? The 
question is not merely if it be possible for woman to 


become moral. It is this : is it possible for woman really 
to wish to realise the problem of existence, the conception 
of guilt ? Can she really desire freedom ? This can happen 
only by her being penetrated by a^ ideal, brought to the 
guiding star. It can happen only if the categorical im- 
perative were to become active in woman ; only if woman 
can place herself in relation to the moral idea, the idea of 

In that way only can there be an emancipation of woman. 


Esthetics and Erotics, Chap. XL. 
\ 236-251 

I Affinity, sexual, compared with che- 
I mical, 41 
\ Ahriman, 183 

Alcmaeon, of Kroton, 81 

Alexander the Great, 229 

Amphibia, hermaphroditism, 22 

Anaesthesia, sexual, 274 

Anatomical distinctions of the sexes, 3 

Anatomy, as guide to sexuality, 3, 4 

Animals, women and the sexual union 
of, 257 

Angelo, M., 105 

Anti-Christ, 183 

Antisemitism, 303, 304, 312, 313 

Apprehension, 116 

Architecture, 119 

Aristotle, 18, 140, 187, 293 

Arrhenoplasm, Chap. II., 11-25 

Aryans, 302 

Asceticism, 329, 336, 347 

Attraction, between the sexes, 26, 27 

Autobiography, 122 

Avenarius, 31, 82, 94, 100, 128, 144, 

Bach, 103, 323 

Bachelors, and women, 258 

Bacon, 182 

Bashkir tseff, Marie, 69 

Bateson, on dimorphic earwigs^ 34 

Beatrice, 240, 336 

Beauty, analysis of, 240, 242 

Beethoven, 96, 112, 317 

Bentham, 176, 317 

Berkeley, 141, 317 

Bisexuality, oscillations in, 55 

Bischoff, 12, 217 

Bjornson, 108 

Blavatsky, Mdme., 68 

Blindness, colour, no 

Blood, transfusion of, 20 

Bölsche, 329 

Bonheur, Rosa, 68 

Bonnet, 143 

Boys and girls, education of, 58 
Breeding, application of laws of 

sexual attraction to, 43 
Breuer, on hysteria, 265, 269, 270 
Bridgman, Laura, 66 
Brünnhilde, 223 
Bruno, 141, 240, 316 
Büchner, 315 
Buddha, 325, 328 
Burchhardt, 72 
Burns, Robert, 317 
Byron, Lord, 236 

CiESAR, 134, 229, 230, 326 

Carlyle, 113, 136, 140, 175, 229, 307, 

Castration, effect of, 18 

Catharsis, 269 

Catherine II. of Russia, 66 

Catholic vi^ w of marriage, 221 

Catholicism and women, 207 

Cattle, homosexuality in, 49 

Causality, invented by man, 279 

Cells, sexuality of, 15, 17, 22, 23 

Ceres, 224 

Chamberlain on Jews, 312, 321, 323, 
on origin of Christianity, 328 

"Character" of Avenarius, 94, 95, 

Characteriology, Chap. V., 52-63 

Characters, classification of, 14 
secondary sexual, 43 

Chastity, 331, 332, 334, 335,341, 346 

Chemistry, Kepler's esdmateof, 315 

Chemotropism, 39, 41 

Child, relation of mother and prosti- 
tute to, 219 

Chinese, 187, 302 

Chivalry, 204 

Chopin, 67 

Christ, 313, 325, 329 

Christianity and Judaism, 325, 327, 

Clairvoyance, 277 

Classification, 97 



Clemens, 345 
Cleopatra, 230 
Coitus, 332, 337, 343 
Colour blindness, 1 10 
Commerce, and Jews, 325 
Communism, 307 
Comparisons, in poetry, 118 
Compassion, womanly, 197 
Compliments, and women, 203 
Comprehension, power of by genius, 

Comte, A., 141, 204, 244 
Confucius, 328 
Consciousness, male and female, 

Chap. III., 93-102 
Conventions, women and, 262, 263 
Conversion, Jews and, 323 
Copernicus, 140, 315 
Coquetry, and sexuality, 232 
Correlations, importance of, 61 
Cromwell, 229 

Crustacea, hermaphroditism in, 19 
Cuvier, 6i, 62, 315 
Cyrano de Bergerac, 211 

Danäe, 231 

Dante, 249, 299 

Darwin, 97, 130, 140, 217 
on correlation, 61 
on female talent, 71 
on heterostylism, 33, 34 
on sexual tastes of animals, 27 
on union of those akin, 44 

Da Vinci, 97 

Death, 346 

Death, consciousness at, 128, 129 

De Bergerac, 211 

Decalogue, 313 

Demeter, 224 

Demosthenes, 340 

Descartes, 149 

Determinants, in psychology, 81 

Determination of sex, 23 

De Vries, on cell characters, 16 

Dilthey. 82 

Dimorphism, sexual, 6 

Divorce, 221 

Don Juan, 90, 233. 299, 332, 335 

Doppelgänger, 210 

Drawing, and women, 120 

Dualism of the world, 166 

Dürer, 322 

Eckhard, 313 
Education, 57 

of the race, 348 

of women, 348 
Ego, awakening of, 164 
Ego, conception of. Chap. VII., 153- 

" Elective Afl&nities," 69, 218 

" Element " of Avenarius, 94 

Eliot, George, 67 

Emancipation of Women, Chap. VI., 

64-75. 338 
Embryoes, sexual differentiation of, 5 
Emerson, 141, 230 
Empedocles, 172 
Emperors and genius, 139 
Empiricism, and English philosophy, 

English philosophy, 153 
English and Jew compared, 317, 319 
Erotics, and aesthetics. Chap. XL, 

Eroticism and humour, 318 
Ethics, and Logic, Chap. VI., 142- 

152, Chap. VIL, 153-162 
Euler, 315 
Euripides, 105, 187 
Exner, 98 

Faithfulness, sexual, 220 

Falkenberg, on fertilisation in sea- 
weeds, 40 

Fall, meaning of, 283 

Familiarity, quality of, 144 

Family, origin of, 205 

amongst the Jews, 310 

Faraday, 315 

Fechner, 82, 292, 313, 322 

Female, contrasted with male, Chap. 
I., 79-84 

F6t6, on sexual inversion, 45 

Ferns, sexual attraction caused by 
malic acid, 39 

FertiUty, limited in prostitutes, 216 

Feuerbach, 141, 305 

Fichte, 140, 150, 307 

Fischart, 226 

Flowers, heterostylous, 33, 34 

Forgetting, analysis of process, 97 

Form, matter and form, 293 

Formula, of sexual attraction, 29, 37, 
of sexual constitution, 8 

Fouqu^. 188 

Freelove, 221 

Freewill, 209 

Freud, on hysteria, 265-277 

Friendship, 49, 288 

Galileo, 140, 315 
Gall, on physiognomy, 59 
Gauss, 140 
Gaule, 12 

Genesis, Book of, 295 
Genital, glands, effect of transpUnta- 
tion, 21 



Genius, compared with talent, Chap. 
IV., 103-113 
and the Ego, Chap. VIII., 163- 

in evohition of race, 137 
and language, 137 
and maleness, 113 
and memory, Chap. V., 114-141 
and morality, 183 
and time, 136 
summary of, 169, 182, 183 
Germain, Sophie, 194 
Girls and boys, education of, 58 
God, Schopenhauer's definition, 313 
Goethe, 40, 41, 43, 69, 97, 106, 107, 
120, 126, 174, 203, 218, 228, 313, 316, 
332, 340 
Gonochorism, 6, 73 
Grafting, of sexual organs, 20 
Greeks and religion, 323 
Guilt, hysterical consciousness of, 

Meckel's "gonochorism," 6 

" Hakon," King, 328 

Hamilton, 317 

Handel, 322 

Happiness, impossibility of, 285 

Hartley, 143, 317 

Hatred, 236 

Hauptmann, 276 

Havelock Ellis, 11, 12 

Hebbel, 279 

Hegel, 155 

Heine, 316, 323 

Hellenbach, 287 

Helmholtz, 82, 97 

Henids, 99 

Herbart, 93, 94, 141, 246 

Hering. 143 

Hermaphroditism, 6, 7, 10, 13, 16, 19, 

"Hero-worship, 113 
Hertwig, 16 
Heterostylism, 33, 34 
Hildebrand, on heterostylism, 33 
Hobbes, 316, 317 
Homosexuality, Chap. IV., 45-52 

of famous women, 66 
Horwicz, 93, 94 
Hume, 81, 141, 153,164, 175, 193,208, 

Humour, analysis of, 318 
Hunter, John, 14 
Hutcheson, 175 
Huxley, 193, 317 
Hydrocele. 25 
Hypnotism, 50 
Hypnotism and hysteria, 277 
Hysteria, analysis of, 265 

Ibsen, 160, 187, 218, 224, 231, 258, 

290, 325, 343 
Idealism, 176 
Idioplasm, 16, 21, 155 
Imagination, of women, 119 
Immortality, 127, 135, 314, 346 
"Impressions," maternal, 217 
Impulse, sexual, 87, 88, 282 
Individualism, 176 
Individuality, 282 
Individuation, 282 
Infants, sex of, 23, 24 
Innocence, 243 
Intermediate sexual forms, 7 
Inversion, sexual, 45 
Irony, 323 
Israels, 316 

James, W., 82, 144 

Janet, on hysteria, 265, 267, 268 

Jealousy, and women, 205, 289 

Jewish race, 303 

Jews and English compared, 319 

and women compared, 320 
Joshua, 328 
Judaism, Chap. XIII., 301 — 330 

and Christianity, 325 

and the Messiah, 329 

Kant, 42, 85, 105, 138, 150, 153, 158, 
15g, 161, 164, 192, 208, 237, 246, 
270. 313. 320, 331. 340 

Karneades, 141 

Karsch, 49 

Kaufmann, 119 

Kepler, 315 

Kleptomania, 205 

Kowalevsky, Sonia, 67 

Kraepelin, 45 

Kundry, 270, 319, 337, 344 

' ' Lady from the Sea, ' ' 218 

Lamarck, 97, 143, 315 

Lange, 129, 208 

Language, origin of, 137 

Latin, women and, 89 

Lavater, 174 

Laws against homosexuality, 51 

of sexual attraction, 29 
Leda, 231, 291 
Leibnitz, 140, 171, 172, 316 
Lepage, Bastien, 69 
Lewes, 317 

Liars, and memory, 145 
Libraries, and women, 206 
Lichtenberg, 153 
Linnsus, 140, 315 
Locke, 141, 317 

Logic and the Ego, Chap. VII., 
153, 162 



Logic and ethics, Chap, VII., 153 — 162 
and memory, Chap. VI., 142 — 

Lohengrin, 324 

Lombroso, 138 

Lotze, 125 

Love, analysis of, 236, 25 1 
maternal, 225 
and sexuality, 239 

Luther, 325 

Luxemburg, 69 

Mach, 143, 154, 201, 208, 210, 322 

Madness, and genius, 183 

Madonna worship, 249 

Maeterlinck, 108 

Mahomet, 187, 325 

Male and Female, Chap. I., 79 —84 

minds, 284 

plasmas, 11 
Malic acid in ferns, 39 
Marriage, effect on progeny of love- 
less, 44 

ideas of boys and girls on, 90 

religious, 221 
Marx, 307 

Marxism, 32g ' 

Masculine women, 2, 8, 17 
Match-making, and women, 252 — 300 

amongst Jews, 311 
Materialism, and Jews, 314 
Matriarchy, 222 
Matter, and form, 293 ' 

and woman, 292 
Maupas, on rotifers, 24 
Maupassant, 276 
Mayer, 97 

Medecine, Jewish influence on, 315 
Medical view of hysteria, 271 
"Meistersingers," 305 
Memory, 282 

and genius, Chap. V., 114 — 141 

in boys and girls, 294 

in relation to logic, Chap. VI., 
T42— 152 
Messalina, 336 
Messiah, 325, 329 
Meta-organisma, 287 
Metaphysics, Jews and, 322 
Microcosm, 171 
Mill, J. S., 176, 317 
Milne-Edwards, 291 
Mirandola, 188 
Modesty, 261, 274 

womanly, 200 
Moliere, 340 
Moll, 52. 88 

Monads, 198, 287, 294, 297 
Monogamy, 43, 220 
Morality, 176 

Morality of women, 196, 278, 340 

More, 73 

Morphology, in relation to character, 

Chap, v., 52 — 63 
Motherhood, analysis of. Chap. X., 

Mozart, 323 
Müller, Joh., 217 
Murder, 109 
Music, and women, 118 
Myxodema, 25 

N^GELI, 16 

Names, and women, 206 

" Nana," 231 

Napoleon, 182, 228, 326, 327 

Newton, 140, 315 

New Testament, 325 

New Zealand, 339 

Nietzsche, 104, 108, 140, 167, 329, 

342. 344 
Nirvana, 174 
Nobility, Jews and, 308 
Nörgler, 174 
Novalis, 103, 165, 258 
Nudity, 240, 241 

Organotherapy, 21 

Oriental view of women, 342 

Origen, 187 

Oscillations, in sexuality, 54 

Ostwald, 31, 315 

Ovid, 332 

Owen, 307 

Painting, and women, 120 
Pairing, woman's chief instinct, 252— 
and Jews, 311 
" Parsifal," 305, 337, 344 
Pascal, 179, 205 
Pasiphäe, 291 
Pasteur, 315 
Paternity, 232, 346 
Pathology, 25 
Paul, Jean, 103, 164, 318 
Pederasty, Chap. IV., 45 — 52 
" Peer Gynt," 224, foot note 
Periodicity, of genius, 107 
Personality, multiple, 211, 267 
Persoon, 33 
Petzoldt, 96, 100 
Pfeffer, 39 
Phallus, relation of, to women, 298 

Philosophy, English, 153 
Philosophers, and genius, 141 
Physiognomy, 59, 60 
Piety, 322 
Pity, 199 



[Plasmas, male and female, ii 
Plato, 149, 150, 240, 246, 293, 313, 

Platonic love, 239 
Pleasure, 282 

Politeness, and women, 203 
Politician, character of, 230 
Politicians and genius, 139 

and value, 134 
Pollen, in heterostyllous flowers, 35 
Polyandry, 222 
Polygamy, 220 
Pregnancy, 86, 222 
Pre-Raphaelites, 73 
Provost, 256 
Prey er, 315 
j Pride, of women, 201 
i Property, Jewish relation to, 306 
I Prostitution, analysis of. Chap. X., 
I 214—235 

I Protestantism, and women, 207 
; Psychology, 142 

male and female. Chap. IX. , 
186 — 213 
Puberty, effect of, 90 
Pythagoras, 343 

Rabbis, Jewish, 311 

Race, persistence of human, 224, 

Raphael, 226 
Recognition, 282 
Red Sea, crossing of, 323 
Regeneration, of lost parts, 16 

moral, 283 
Religion, founders of, 326, 327 

importance of, 323 

Jews and, 321 

women and, 261 
Revenge, 289 
Reverence, 322 
Richepin, 226 
Rousseau, 307 
Rudiments, of embryonic sexual 

organs, 3 
Ruskin, 307 

St. Augustine, 345 
Salome, 345 
Samson, 328 
Sand, George, 66 
Sappho, 65, 66 

Schelling, 81, 105, 138, 165, 246 
Schiller, 230, 246 
Schleiermacher, 140 
Schoolmasters, and types, 57 
Schopenhauer, 95, 167, 174, 199, 218, 
223, 236, 237, 238, 281, 295, 305, 

313. 318. 340 
Schrenk-Notzing, 45 

Schurtz, 205 

Schwammerdam, 315 

Science, and genius, 140 
Judaism, in, 314 

Secretion, internal, and sexual cha- 
racters, 15 

Sellheim and Foges, experiments on 
castration, 18 

Servant, type of woman, 272 

Sex, appearance of, in embryos, 5 
assignment of, to infants, 22, 23, 

Sexual attraction, laws of. Chap. Ill,, 
characters, secondary, 14, 43 
impulses, 88 
Sexuality, of male and female com- 
pared, 85, 92 
opposed to love, 239 
of women, 260, 331, 332, 334, 

Shaftesbury, 246 
Shakespeare, 105, 109, no, 317 
Shelley, 168, 317 
Shrew, type of woman, 272 
" Siegfried," 223, 305 
Sigwart, 156 
Simmel, George, 148 
Slavery, compared with Jewish prob- 
lem, 338 
Smith, Adam, 175, 317 
Socialism, 307 
Society, origin of, 205 
Socrates, 150, 246, 326 
Solidarity, of the Jews, 310 
Solitude, and women, 205 
Solliers, on sexual ansesthesia, 274 
Somerville, Marj', 194 

Sophocles, 184 

Soul, 313 

denied by modern science, 315 
and great men, 168 
and modern psychology, 209 
and women, 187 

Spencer, Herbert, 128, 130, 263, 317 

Spinoza, 316, 317 

Sprengel, 315 

State, 307 

Steenstrup, 12, 13 

Sterility, 216 

Stern, L. W.. 82 

Stern, 317 

" Stockman, Dr.," 325 

Strauss, 112 

Strindberg, 187 

Sudermann, 256 

Suggestibility, of women, 394 

Suicide, of women, 286 

Sulpicia, 319 

Superstition, of women, 127 



Swift, 317. 343 
Sympathy, 177, 197 

"Tannhäüser," 240, 305 

Telegony, 233 

Teresa, St., 277 

Tertullian, 187, 314, 343 

"Tesman," in Hedda Gabler, 258 

Thely plasm, Chap. IL, 11 — 25 

Time, relation to value, 133 

Tolstoy, 231 

Touch, sense of, in women, 191 

Tragedy, 319 

Transcendentalism, 314 

Transfusion, of blood, 20 

Travel, desire of, 237, note 

Truth, 150 

Türck, 138 

Tylor, 128 

Types, male and female, mental, 53 

Undine, 188 

Universality, of genius, 112 
Untruthfulness, of women, 266 

Value, theory of, 133 
Vanity, of women, 202 
Variation in sexual characters, 18 
Virginity, a male idea, 333 
woman's attitude to, 334 

Virtue of women, 333 

Vogt, on hysteria, 265, 274, 277 

Von Eschenbach, 264 

Von Höffding, 144 

Von Humboldt. 140 

Von Kleist, 105 

Von Möbius, 59 

Wagner, 67, 109, 211, 240, 279, 305, 

319, 343 
Weill, 36 
Weismann, 81 
Wier, 81 
Will, 282 

Wit and humour, 318 
Woman and animals, 290, 291 

character of, 280 

emancipated, 64 

famous, 69 

future of. Chap. XIV., 351-340 

compared with Jews, 320 

and matter, 292 

sexuality of, 260 

summary of her nature, Chap> 
XII., 252-300 
Wundt, 94, 131, 140 

" Zarathustra," 108, 1Ö7 
Zionism, 307, 312 
' Zola, 105, 231, 304 

University of ^/ p