Chapter XII.

STUDIES IN THE PSYCHOLOGY OF SEX, VOLUME IV

Sexual Selection In Man

I. Touch. Ii. Smell. Iii. Hearing. Iv. Vision.

by

HAVELOCK ELLIS

1927

PREFACE.

As in many other of these _Studies_, and perhaps more than in most, the

task attempted in the present volume is mainly of a tentative and

preliminary character. There is here little scope yet for the presentation

of definite scientific results. However it may be in the physical

universe, in the cosmos of science our knowledge must be nebulous before

it constellates into definitely measurable shapes, and nothing is gained

by attempting to anticipate the evolutionary process. Thus it is that

here, for the most part, we have to content ourselves at present with the

task of mapping out the field in broad and general outlines, bringing

together the facts and considerations which indicate the direction in

which more extended and precise results will in the future be probably

found.

In his famous _Descent of Man_, wherein he first set forth the doctrine of

sexual selection, Darwin injured an essentially sound principle by

introducing into it a psychological confusion whereby the physiological

sensory stimuli through which sexual selection operates were regarded as

equivalent to æsthetic preferences. This confusion misled many, and it is

only within recent years (as has been set forth in the "Analysis of the

Sexual Impulse" in the previous volume of these _Studies_) that the

investigations and criticisms of numerous workers have placed the doctrine

of sexual selection on a firm basis by eliminating its hazardous æsthetic

element. Love springs up as a response to a number of stimuli to

tumescence, the object that most adequately arouses tumescence being that

which evokes love; the question of æsthetic beauty, although it develops

on this basis, is not itself fundamental and need not even be consciously

present at all. When we look at these phenomena in their broadest

biological aspects, love is only to a limited extent a response to beauty;

to a greater extent beauty is simply a name for the complexus of stimuli

which most adequately arouses love. If we analyze these stimuli to

tumescence as they proceed from a person of the opposite sex we find that

they are all appeals which must come through the channels of four senses:

touch, smell, hearing, and, above all, vision. When a man or a woman

experiences sexual love for one particular person from among the multitude

by which he or she is surrounded, this is due to the influences of a group

of stimuli coming through the channels of one or more of these senses.

There has been a sexual selection conditioned by sensory stimuli. This is

true even of the finer and more spiritual influences that proceed from one

person to another, although, in order to grasp the phenomena adequately,

it is best to insist on the more fundamental and less complex forms which

they assume. In this sense sexual selection is no longer a hypothesis

concerning the truth of which it is possible to dispute; it is a

self-evident fact. The difficulty is not as to its existence, but as to

the methods by which it may be most precisely measured. It is

fundamentally a psychological process, and should be approached from the

psychological side. This is the reason for dealing with it here. Obscure

as the psychological aspects of sexual selection still remain, they are

full of fascination, for they reveal to us the more intimate sides of

human evolution, of the process whereby man is molded into the shapes we

know.

HAVELOCK ELLIS.

Carbis Water,

Lelant, Cornwall, England.

CONTENTS.

SEXUAL SELECTION IN MAN.

The External Sensory Stimuli Affecting Selection in Man. The Four Senses

Involved.

TOUCH.

I.

The Primitive Character of the Skin. Its Qualities. Touch the Earliest

Source of Sensory Pleasure. The Characteristics of Touch. As the Alpha and

Omega of Affection. The Sexual Organs a Special Adaptation of Touch.

Sexual Attraction as Originated by Touch. Sexual Hyperæsthesia to Touch.

The Sexual Associations of Acne.

II.

Ticklishness. Its Origin and Significance. The Psychology of Tickling.

Laughter. Laughter as a Kind of Detumescence. The Sexual Relationships of

Itching. The Pleasure of Tickling. Its Decrease with Age and Sexual

Activity.

III.

The Secondary Sexual Skin Centres. Orificial Contacts. Cunnilingus and

Fellatio. The Kiss. The Nipples. The Sympathy of the Breasts with the

Primary Sexual Centres. This Connection Operative both through the Nerves

and through the Blood. The Influence of Lactation on the Sexual Centres.

Suckling and Sexual Emotion. The Significance of the Association between

Suckling and Sexual Emotion. The Association as a Cause of Sexual

Perversity.

IV.

The Bath. Antagonism of Primitive Christianity to the Cult of the Skin.

Its Cult of Personal Filth. The Reasons which Justified this Attitude. The

World-wide Tendency to Association between Extreme Cleanliness and Sexual

Licentiousness. The Immorality Associated with Public Baths in Europe down

to Modern Times.

V.

Summary. Fundamental Importance of Touch. The Skin the Mother of All the

Other Senses.

SMELL.

I.

The Primitiveness of Smell. The Anatomical Seat of the Olfactory Centres.

Predominance of Smell among the Lower Mammals. Its Diminished Importance

in Man. The Attention Paid to Odors by Savages.

II.

Rise of the Study of Olfaction. Cloquet. Zwaardemaker. The Theory of

Smell. The Classification of Odors. The Special Characteristics of

Olfactory Sensation in Man. Smell as the Sense of Imagination. Odors as

Nervous Stimulants. Vasomotor and Muscular Effects. Odorous Substances as

Drugs.

III.

The Specific Body Odors of Various Peoples. The Negro, etc. The European.

The Ability to Distinguish Individuals by Smell. The Odor of Sanctity. The

Odor of Death. The Odors of Different Parts of the Body. The Appearance of

Specific Odors at Puberty. The Odors of Sexual Excitement. The Odors of

Menstruation. Body Odors as a Secondary Sexual Character. The Custom of

Salutation by Smell. The Kiss. Sexual Selection by Smell. The Alleged

Association between Size of Nose and Sexual Vigor. The Probably Intimate

Relationship between the Olfactory and Genital Spheres. Reflex Influences

from the Nose. Reflex Influences from the Genital Sphere. Olfactory

Hallucinations in Insanity as Related to Sexual States. The Olfactive

Type. The Sense of Smell in Neurasthenic and Allied States. In Certain

Poets and Novelists. Olfactory Fetichism. The Part Played by Olfaction in

Normal Sexual Attraction. In the East, etc. In Modern Europe. The Odor of

the Armpit and its Variations. As a Sexual and General Stimulant. Body

Odors in Civilization Tend to Cause Sexual Antipathy unless some Degree

of Tumescence is Already Present. The Question whether Men or Women are

more Liable to Feel Olfactory Influences. Women Usually more Attentive to

Odors. The Special Interest in Odors Felt by Sexual Inverts.

IV.

The Influence of Perfumes. Their Aboriginal Relationship to Sexual Body

Odors. This True even of the Fragrance of Flowers. The Synthetic

Manufacture of Perfumes. The Sexual Effects of Perfumes. Perfumes perhaps

Originally Used to Heighten the Body Odors. The Special Significance of

the Musk Odor. Its Wide Natural Diffusion in Plants and Animals and Man.

Musk a Powerful Stimulant. Its Widespread Use as a Perfume. Peau

d'Espagne. The Smell of Leather and its Occasional Sexual Effects. The

Sexual Influence of the Odors of Flowers. The Identity of many Plant Odors

with Certain Normal and Abnormal Body Odors. The Smell of Semen in this

Connection.

V.

The Evil Effects of Excessive Olfactory Stimulation. The Symptoms of

Vanillism. The Occasional Dangerous Results of the Odors of Flowers.

Effects of Flowers on the Voice.

VI.

The Place of Smell in Human Sexual Selections. It has given Place to the

Predominance of Vision largely because in Civilized Man it Fails to Act at

a Distance. It still Plays a Part by Contributing to the Sympathies or the

Antipathies of Intimate Contact.

HEARING

I.

The Physiological Basis of Rhythm. Rhythm as a Physiological Stimulus. The

Intimate Relation of Rhythm to Movement. The Physiological Influence of

Music on Muscular Action, Circulation, Respiration, etc. The Place of

Music in Sexual Selection among the Lower Animals. Its Comparatively Small

Place in Courtship among Mammals. The Larynx and Voice in Man. The

Significance of the Pubertal Changes. Ancient Beliefs Concerning the

Influence of Music in Morals, Education and Medicine. Its Therapeutic

Uses. Significance of the Romantic Interest in Music at Puberty. Men

Comparatively Insusceptible to the Specifically Sexual Influence of Music.

Rarity of Sexual Perversions on the Basis of the Sense of Hearing. The

Part of Music in Primitive Human Courtship. Women Notably Susceptible to

the Specifically Sexual Influence of Music and the Voice.

II.

Summary. Why the Influence of Music in Human Sexual Selection is

Comparatively Small.

VISION.

I.

Primacy of Vision in Man. Beauty as a Sexual Allurement. The Objective

Element in Beauty. Ideals of Feminine Beauty in Various Parts of the

World. Savage Women sometimes Beautiful from European Point of View.

Savages often Admire European Beauty. The Appeal of Beauty to some Extent

Common even to Animals and Man.

II.

Beauty to Some Extent Consists Primitively in an Exaggeration of the

Sexual Characters. The Sexual Organs. Mutilations, Adornments, and

Garments. Sexual Allurement the Original Object of Such Devices. The

Religious Element. Unæsthetic Character of the Sexual Organs. Importance

of the Secondary Sexual Characters. The Pelvis and Hips. Steatopygia.

Obesity. Gait. The Pregnant Woman as a Mediæval Type of Beauty. The Ideals

of the Renaissance. The Breasts. The Corset. Its Object. Its History.

Hair. The Beard. The Element of National or Racial Type in Beauty. The

Relative Beauty of Blondes and Brunettes. The General European Admiration

for Blondes. The Individual Factors in the Constitution of the Idea of

Beauty. The Love of the Exotic.

III.

Beauty Not the Sole Element in the Sexual Appeal of Vision. Movement. The

Mirror. Narcissism. Pygmalionism. Mixoscopy. The Indifference of Women to

Male Beauty. The Significance of Woman's Admiration of Strength. The

Spectacle of Strength is a Tactile Quality made Visible.

IV.

The Alleged Charm of Disparity in Sexual Attraction. The Admiration for

High Stature. The Admiration for Dark Pigmentation. The Charm of Parity.

Conjugal Mating. The Statistical Results of Observation as Regards General

Appearance, Stature, and Pigmentation of Married Couples. Preferential

Mating and Assortative Mating. The Nature of the Advantage Attained by the

Fair in Sexual Selection. The Abhorrence of Incest and the Theories of its

Cause. The Explanation in Reality Simple. The Abhorrence of Incest in

Relation to Sexual Selection. The Limits to the Charm of Parity in

Conjugal Mating. The Charm of Disparity in Secondary Sexual Characters.

V.

Summary of the Conclusions at Present Attainable in Regard to the Nature

of Beauty and its Relation to Sexual Selection.

APPENDIX A.

The Origins of the Kiss.

APPENDIX B.

Histories of Sexual Development.

SEXUAL SELECTION IN MAN.

The External Sensory Stimuli Affecting Selection in Man--The Four Senses

Involved.

Tumescence--the process by which the organism is brought into the physical

and psychic state necessary to insure conjugation and detumescence--to

some extent comes about through the spontaneous action of internal forces.

To that extent it is analogous to the physical and psychic changes which

accompany the gradual filling of the bladder and precede its evacuation.

But even among animals who are by no means high in the zoölogical scale

the process is more complicated than this. External stimuli act at every

stage, arousing or heightening the process of tumescence, and in normal

human beings it may be said that the process is never completed without

the aid of such stimuli, for even in the auto-erotic sphere external

stimuli are still active, either actually or in imagination.

The chief stimuli which influence tumescence and thus direct sexual choice

come chiefly--indeed, exclusively--through the four senses of touch,

smell, hearing, and sight. All the phenomena of sexual selection, so far

as they are based externally, act through these four senses.[1] The

reality of the influence thus exerted may be demonstrated statistically

even in civilized man, and it has been shown that, as regards, for

instance, eye-color, conjugal partners differ sensibly from the unmarried

persons by whom they are surrounded. When, therefore, we are exploring the

nature of the influence which stimuli, acting through the sensory

channels, exert on the strength and direction of the sexual impulse, we

are intimately concerned with the process by which the actual form and

color, not alone of living things generally, but of our own species, have

been shaped and are still being shaped. At the same time, it is probable,

we are exploring the mystery which underlies all the subtle appreciations,

all the emotional undertones, which are woven in the web of the whole

world as it appeals to us through those sensory passages by which alone it

can reach us. We are here approaching, therefore, a fundamental subject of

unsurpassable importance, a subject which has not yet been accurately

explored save at a few isolated points and one which it is therefore

impossible to deal with fully and adequately. Yet it cannot be passed

over, for it enters into the whole psychology of the sexual instinct.

Of the four senses--touch, smell, hearing, and sight--with which we are

here concerned, touch is the most primitive, and it may be said to be the

most important, though it is usually the last to make its appeal felt.

Smell, which occupies the chief place among many animals, is of

comparatively less importance, though of considerable interest, in man; it

is only less intimate and final than touch. Sight occupies an intermediate

position, and on this account, and also on account of the very great part

played by vision in life generally as well as in art, it is the most

important of all the senses from the human sexual point of view. Hearing,

from the same point of view, is the most remote of all the senses in its

appeal to the sexual impulse, and on that account it is, when it

intervenes, among the first to make its influence felt.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Taste must, I believe, be excluded, for if we abstract the parts of

touch and smell, even in those abnormal sexual acts in which it may seem

to be affected, taste could scarcely have any influence. Most of our

"tasting," as Waller puts it, is done by the nose, which, in man, is in

specially close relationship, posteriorly, with the mouth. There are at

most four taste sensations--sweet, bitter, salt, and sour--if even all of

these are simple tastes. What commonly pass for taste sensations, as shown

by some experiments of G.T.W. Patrick (_Psychological Review_, 1898, p.

160), are the composite results of the mingling of sensations of smell,

touch, temperature, sight, and taste.

TOUCH.

I.

The Primitive Character of the Skin--Its Qualities--Touch the Earliest

Source of Sensory Pleasure--The Characteristics of Touch--As the Alpha and

Omega of Affection--The Sexual Organs a Special Adaptation of

Touch--Sexual Attraction as Originated by Touch--Sexual Hyperæsthesia to

Touch--The Sexual Associations of Acne.

We are accustomed to regard the skin as mainly owing its existence to the

need for the protection of the delicate vessels, nerves, viscera, and

muscles underneath. Undoubtedly it performs, and by its tough and elastic

texture is well fitted to perform, this extremely important service. But

the skin is not merely a method of protection against the external world;

it is also a method of bringing us into sensitive contact with the

external world. It is thus, as the organ of touch, the seat of the most

widely diffused sense we possess, and, moreover, the sense which is the

most ancient and fundamental of all--the mother of the other senses.

It is scarcely necessary to insist that the primitive nature of the

sensory function of the skin with the derivative nature of the other

senses, is a well ascertained and demonstrable fact. The lower we descend

in the animal scale, the more varied we find the functions of the skin to

be, and if in the higher animals much of the complexity has disappeared,

that is only because the specialization of the various skin regions into

distinct organs has rendered this complexity unnecessary. Even yet,

however, in man himself the skin still retains, in a more or less latent

condition, much of its varied and primary power, and the analysis of

pathological and even normal phenomena serves to bring these old powers

into clear light.

Woods Hutchinson (_Studies in Human and Comparative Pathology_,

1901, Chapters VII and VIII) has admirably set forth the immense

importance of the skin, as in the first place "a tissue which is

silk to the touch, the most exquisitely beautiful surface in the

universe to the eye, and yet a wall of adamant against hostile

attack. Impervious alike, by virtue of its wonderful responsive

vitality, to moisture and drought, cold and heat, electrical

changes, hostile bacteria, the most virulent of poisons and the

deadliest of gases, it is one of the real Wonders of the World.

More beautiful than velvet, softer and more pliable than silk,

more impervious than rubber, and more durable under exposure than

steel, well-nigh as resistant to electric currents as glass, it

is one of the toughest and most dangerproof substances in the

three kingdoms of nature" (although, as this author adds, we

"hardly dare permit it to see the sunlight or breathe the open

air"). But it is more than this. It is, as Woods Hutchinson

expresses it, the creator of the entire body; its embryonic

infoldings form the alimentary canal, the brain, the spinal cord,

while every sense is but a specialization of its general organic

activity. It is furthermore a kind of "skin-heart," promoting the

circulation by its own energy; it is the great heat-regulating

organ of the body; it is an excretory organ only second to the

kidneys, which descend from it, and finally it still remains the

seat of touch.

It may be added that the extreme beauty of the skin as a surface

is very clearly brought out by the inadequacy of the comparisons

commonly used in order to express its beauty. Snow, marble,

alabaster, ivory, milk, cream, silk, velvet, and all the other

conventional similes furnish surfaces which from any point of

view are incomparably inferior to the skin itself. (Cf. Stratz,

_Die Schönheit des Weiblichen Körpers_, Chapter XII.)

With reference to the extraordinary vitality of the skin,

emphasized by Woods Hutchinson, it may be added that, when

experimenting on the skin with the electric current, Waller found

that healthy skin showed signs of life ten days or more after

excision. It has been found also that fragments of skin which

have been preserved in sterile fluid for even as long as nine

months may still be successfully transplanted on to the body.

(_British Medical Journal_, July 19, 1902.)

Everything indicates, remark Stanley Hall and Donaldson ("Motor

Sensations in the Skin," _Mind_, 1885), that the skin is "not

only the primeval and most reliable source of our knowledge of

the external world or the archæological field of psychology," but

a field in which work may shed light on some of the most

fundamental problems of psychic action. Groos (_Spiele der

Menschen_, pp. 8-16) also deals with the primitive character of

touch sensations.

Touch sensations are without doubt the first of all the sensory

impressions to prove pleasurable. We should, indeed, expect this

from the fact that the skin reflexes have already appeared before

birth, while a pleasurable sensitiveness of the lips is doubtless

a factor in the child's response to the contact of the maternal

nipple. Very early memories of sensory pleasure seem to be

frequently, perhaps most frequently, tactile in character, though

this fact is often disguised in recollection, owing to tactile

impression being vague and diffused; there is thus in Elizabeth

Potwin's "Study of Early Memories" (_Psychological Review_,

November, 1901) no separate group of tactile memories, and the

more elaborate investigation by Colegrove ("Individual Memories,"

_American Journal of Psychology_, January, 1899) yields no

decisive results under this head. See, however, Stanley Hall's

valuable study, "Some Aspects of the Early Sense of Self,"

_American Journal of Psychology_, April, 1898. Külpe has a

discussion of the psychology of cutaneous sensations (_Outlines

of Psychology_ [English translation], pp. 87 et seq.)

Harriet Martineau, at the beginning of her _Autobiography_,

referring to the vivid character of tactile sensations in early

childhood, remarks, concerning an early memory of touching a

velvet button, that "the rapture of the sensation was really

monstrous." And a lady tells me that one of her earliest memories

at the age of 3 is of the exquisite sensation of the casual

contact of a cool stone with the vulva in the act of urinating.

Such sensations, of course, cannot be termed specifically sexual,

though they help to furnish the tactile basis on which the

specifically sexual sensations develop.

The elementary sensitiveness of the skin is shown by the fact

that moderate excitation suffices to raise the temperature, while

Heidenhain and others have shown that in animals cutaneous

stimuli modify the sensibility of the brain cortex, slight

stimulus increasing excitability and strong stimulus diminishing

it. Féré has shown that the slight stimulus to the skin furnished

by placing a piece of metal on the arm or elsewhere suffices to

increase the output of work with the ergograph. (Féré, _Comptes

Rendus Société de Biologie_, July 12, 1902; id., _Pathologic des

Emotions_, pp. 40 et seq.)

Féré found that the application of a mustard plaster to the skin,

or an icebag, or a hot-water bottle, or even a light touch with a

painter's brush, all exerted a powerful effect in increasing

muscular work with the ergograph. "The tonic effect of cutaneous

excitation," he remarks, "throws light on the psychology of the

caress. It is always the most sensitive parts of the body which

seek to give or to receive caresses. Many animals rub or lick

each other. The mucous surfaces share in this irritability of the

skin. The kiss is not only an expression of feeling; it is a

means of provoking it. Cataglottism is by no means confined to

pigeons. The tonic value of cutaneous stimulation is indeed a

commonly accepted idea. Wrestlers rub their hands or limbs, and

the hand-shake also is not without its physiological basis.

"Cutaneous excitations may cause painful sensations to cease. Many

massage practices which favor work act chiefly as sensorial

stimulants; on this account many nervous persons cannot abandon

them, and the Greeks and Romans found in massage not only health,

but pleasure. Lauder Brunton regards many common manoeuvres, like

scratching the head and pulling the mustache, as methods of

dilating the bloodvessels of the brain by stimulating the facial

nerve. The motor reactions of cutaneous excitations favor this

hypothesis." (Féré, _Travail et Plaisir_, Chapter XV, "Influence

des Excitations du Toucher sur le Travail.")

The main characteristics of the primitive sense of touch are its wide

diffusion over the whole body and the massive vagueness and imprecision of

the messages it sends to the brain. This is the reason, why it is, of all

the senses, the least intellectual and the least æsthetic; it is also the

reason why it is, of all the senses, the most-profoundly emotional.

"Touch," wrote Bain in his _Emotions and Will_, "is both the alpha and the

omega of affection," and he insisted on the special significance in this

connection of "tenderness"--a characteristic emotional quality of

affection which is directly founded on sensations of touch. If tenderness

is the alpha of affection, even between the sexes, its omega is to be

found in the sexual embrace, which may be said to be a method of

obtaining, through a specialized organization of the skin, the most

exquisite and intense sensations of touch.

"We believe nothing is so exciting to the instinct or mere

passions as the presence of the hand or those tactile caresses

which mark affection," states the anonymous author of an article

on "Woman in her Psychological Relations," in the _Journal of

Psychological Medicine_, 1851. "They are the most general stimuli

in lower animals. The first recourse in difficulty or danger, and

the primary solace in anguish, for woman is the bosom of her

husband or her lover. She seeks solace and protection and repose

on that part of the body where she herself places the objects of

her own affection. Woman appears to have the same instinctive

impulse in this respect all over the world."

It is because the sexual orgasm is founded on a special adaptation and

intensification of touch sensations that the sense of touch generally is

to be regarded as occupying the very first place in reference to the

sexual emotions. Féré, Mantegazza, Penta, and most other writers on this

question are here agreed. Touch sensations constitute a vast gamut for the

expression of affection, with at one end the note of minimum personal

affection in the brief and limited touch involved by the conventional

hand-shake and the conventional kiss, and at the other end the final and

intimate contact in which passion finds the supreme satisfaction of its

most profound desire. The intermediate region has its great significance

for us because it offers a field in which affection has its full scope,

but in which every road may possibly lead to the goal of sexual love. It

is the intimacy of touch contacts, their inevitable approach to the

threshold of sexual emotion, which leads to a jealous and instinctive

parsimony in the contact of skin and skin and to the tendency with the

increased sensitiveness of the nervous system involved by civilization to

restrain even the conventional touch manifestation of ordinary affection

and esteem. In China fathers leave off kissing their daughters while they

are still young children. In England the kiss as an ordinary greeting

between men and women--a custom inherited from classic and early Christian

antiquity--still persisted to the beginning of the eighteenth century. In

France the same custom existed in the seventeenth century, but in the

middle of that century was beginning to be regarded as dangerous,[2] while

at the present time the conventional kiss on the cheek is strictly

differentiated from the kiss on the mouth, which is reserved for lovers.

Touch contacts between person and person, other than those limited and

defined by custom, tend to become either unpleasant--as an undesired

intrusion into an intimate sphere--or else, when occurring between man and

woman at some peculiar moment, they may make a powerful reverberation in

the emotional and more specifically sexual sphere. One man falls in love

with his future wife because he has to carry her upstairs with a sprained

ankle. Another dates his love-story from a romp in which his cheek

accidentally came in contact with that of his future wife. A woman will

sometimes instinctively strive to attract the attention of the man who

appeals to her by a peculiar and prolonged pressure of the hand--the only

touch contact permitted to her. Dante, as Penta has remarked, refers to

"sight or touch" as the two channels through which a woman's love is

revived (_Purgatorio_, VIII, 76). Even the hand-shake of a sympathetic man

is enough in some chaste and sensitive women to produce sexual excitement

or sometimes even the orgasm. The cases in which love arises from the

influence of stimuli coming through the sense of touch are no doubt

frequent, and they would be still more frequent if it were not that the

very proximity of this sense to the sexual sphere causes it to be guarded

with a care which in the case of the other senses it is impossible to

exercise. This intimacy of touch and the reaction against its sexual

approximations leads to what James has called "the _antisexual instinct_,

the instinct of personal isolation, the actual repulsiveness to us of the

idea of intimate contact with most of the persons we meet, especially

those of our own sex." He refers in this connection to the unpleasantness

of the sensation felt on occupying a seat still warm from the body of

another person.[3] The Catholic Church has always recognized the risks of

vuluptuous emotion involved in tactile contacts, and the facility with

which even the most innocent contacts may take on a libidinous

character.[4]

The following observations were written by a lady (aged 30) who

has never had sexual relationships: "I am only conscious of a

very sweet and pleasurable emotion when coming in contact with

honorable men, and consider that a comparison can be made between

the idealism of such emotions and those of music, of beauties of

Nature, and of productions of art. While studying and writing

articles upon a new subject I came in contact with a specialist,

who rendered me considerable aid, and, one day, while jointly

correcting a piece of work, he touched my hand. This produced a

sweet and pure sensation of thrill through the whole system. I

said nothing; in fact, was too thrilled for speech; and never to

this day have shown any responsive action, but for months at

certain periods, generally twice a month, I have experienced the

most pleasurable emotions. I have seen this friend twice since,

and have a curious feeling that I stand on one side of a hedge,

while he is on the other, and, as neither makes an approach,

pleasure of the highest kind is experienced, but not allowed to

go beyond reasonable and health-giving bounds. In some moments I

feel overcome by a sense of mastery by this man, and yet, feeling

that any approach would be undignified, some pleasure is

experienced in restraining and keeping within proper bounds this

passional emotion. All these thrills of pleasurable emotion

possess a psychic value, and, so long as the nervous system is

kept in perfect health, they do not seem to have the power to

injure, but rather one is able to utilize the passionate emotions

as weapons for pleasure and work."

Various parts of the skin surface appear to have special sexual

sensitiveness, peculiarly marked in many individuals, especially

women; so that, as Féré remarks (_L'Instinct Sexuel_, second

edition, 1902, p. 130), contact stimulation of the lips, lobe of

ear, nape of neck, little finger, knee, etc., may suffice even to

produce the orgasm. Some sexually hyperæsthetic women, as has

already been noted, experience this when shaking hands with a man

who is attractive to them. In some neurotic persons this

sensibility, as Féré shows, may exist in so morbid a degree that

even the contact of the sensitive spot with unattractive persons

or inanimate objects may produce the orgasm. In this connection

reference may be made to the well-known fact that in some

hysterical subjects there are so-called "erogenous zones" simple

pressure on which suffices to evoke the complete orgasm. There

is, perhaps, some significance, from our present point of view,

in the fact that, as emphasized by Savill ("Hysterical Skin

Symptoms," _Lancet_, January 30, 1904), the skin is one of the

very best places to study hysteria.

The intimate connection between the skin and the sexual sphere is

also shown in pathological conditions of the skin, especially in

acne as well as simple pimples on the face. The sexual

development of puberty involves a development of hair in various

regions of the body which previously were hairless. As, however,

the sebaceous glands on the face and elsewhere are the vestiges

of former hairs and survive from a period when the whole body was

hairy, they also tend to experience in an abortive manner this

same impulse. Thus, we may say that, with the development of the

sexual organs at puberty, there is correlated excitement of the

whole pilo-sebaceous apparatus. In the regions where this

apparatus is vestigial, and notably in the face, this abortive

attempt of the hair-follicles and their sebaceous appendages to

produce hairs tends only to disorganization, and simple

_comedones_ or pustular acne pimples are liable to occur. As a

rule, acne appears about puberty and dies out slowly during

adolescence. While fairly common in young women, it is usually

much less severe, but tends to be exacerbated at the menstrual

periods; it is also apt to appear at the change of life. (Stephen

Mackenzie, "The Etiology and Treatment of Acne Vulgaris,"

_British Medical Journal_, September 29, 1894. Laycock [_Nervous

Diseases of Women_, 1840, p. 23] pointed out that acne occurs

chiefly in those parts of the surface covered by sexual hair. A

lucid account of the origin of acne will be found in Woods

Hutchinson's _Studies in Human and Comparative Pathology_, pp.

179-184. G.J. Engelmann ["The Hystero-neuroses," _Gynæcological

Transactions_, 1887, pp. 124 et seq.] discusses various

pathological disorders of the skin as reflex disturbances

originating in the sexual sphere.)

The influence of menstruation in exacerbating acne has been

called in question, but it seems to be well established. Thus,

Bulkley ("Relation between Certain Diseases of the Skin and the

Menstrual Function," _Transactions of the Medical Society of New

York_, 1901, p. 328) found that, in 510 cases of acne in women,

145, or nearly one-third, were worse about the monthly period.

Sometimes it only appeared during menstruation. The exacerbation

occurred much more frequently just before than just after the

period. There was usually some disturbance of menstruation.

Various other disorders of the skin show a similar relationship

to menstruation.

It has been asserted that masturbation is a frequent or constant

cause of acne at puberty. (See, e.g., discussion in _British

Medical Journal_, July, 1882.) This cannot be accepted. Acne very

frequently occurs without masturbation, and masturbation is very

frequently practiced without producing acne. At the same time we

may well believe that at the period of puberty, when the

pilo-sebaceous system is already in sensitive touch with the

sexual system, the shock of frequently repeated masturbation may

(in the same way as disordered menstruation) have its

repercussion on the skin. Thus, a lady has informed me that at

about the age of 18 she found that frequently repeated

masturbation was followed by the appearance of _comedones_.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] A. Franklin, _Les Soins de Toilette_, p. 81.

[3] W. James, _Principles of Psychology_, vol. ii. p. 347.

[4] Numerous passages from the theologians bearing on this point are

brought together in _Moechialogia_, pp. 221-220.

II.

Ticklishness--Its Origin and Significance--The Psychology of

Tickling--Laughter--Laughter as a Kind of Detumescence--The Sexual

Relationships of Itching--The Pleasure of Tickling--Its Decrease with Age

and Sexual Activity.

Touch, as has already been remarked, is the least intellectual of the

senses. There is, however, one form of touch sensation--that is to say,

ticklishness--which is of so special and peculiar a nature that it has

sometimes been put aside in a class apart from all other touch sensations.

Scaliger proposed to class titillation as a sixth, or separate, sense.

Alrutz, of Upsala, regards tickling as a milder degree of itching, and

considers that the two together constitute a sensation of distinct quality

with distinct end-organs, for the mediation of that quality.[5] However we

may regard this extreme view, tickling is certainly a specialized

modification of touch and it is at the same time the most intellectual

mode of touch sensation and that with the closest connection with the

sexual sphere. To regard tickling as an intellectual manifestation may

cause surprise, more especially when it is remembered that ticklishness is

a form of sensation which reaches full development very early in life, and

it has to be admitted that, as compared even with the messages that may be

sent through smell and taste, the intellectual element in ticklishness

remains small. But its presence here has been independently recognized by

various investigators. Groos points out the psychic factor in tickling as

evidenced by the impossibility of self-tickling.[6] Louis Robinson

considers that ticklishness "appears to be one of the simplest

developments of mechanical and automatic nervous processes in the

direction of the complex functioning of the higher centres which comes

within the scope of psychology,"[7] Stanley Hall and Allin remark that

"these minimal touch excitations represent the very oldest stratum of

psychic life in the soul."[8] Hirman Stanley, in a somewhat similar

manner, pushes the intellectual element in ticklishness very far back and

associates it with "tentacular experience." "By temporary self-extension,"

he remarks, "even low amoeboid organisms have slight, but suggestive,

touch experiences that stimulate very general and violent reactions, and

in higher organisms extended touch-organs, as tentacles, antennæ, hair,

etc., become permanent and very delicately sensitive organs, where minimal

contacts have very distinct and powerful reactions." Thus ticklishness

would be the survival of long passed ancestral tentacular experience,

which, originally a stimulation producing intense agitation and alarm, has

now become merely a play activity and a source of keen pleasure.[9]

We need not, however, go so far back in the zoölogical series to explain

the origin and significance of tickling in the human species. Sir J.Y.

Simpson suggested, in an elaborate study of the position of the child in

the womb, that the extreme excitomotory sensibility of the skin in various

regions, such as the sole of the foot, the knee, the sides, which already

exists before birth, has for its object the excitation and preservation of

the muscular movements necessary to keep the foetus in the most favorable

position in the womb.[10] It is, in fact, certainly the case that the

stimulation of all the ticklish regions in the body tends to produce

exactly that curled up position of extreme muscular flexion and general

ovoid shape which is the normal position of the foetus in the womb. We may

well believe that in this early developed reflex activity we have the

basis of that somewhat more complex ticklishness which appears somewhat

later.

The mental element in tickling is indicated by the fact that even a child,

in whom ticklishness is highly developed, cannot tickle himself; so that

tickling is not a simple reflex. This fact was long ago pointed out by

Erasmus Darwin, and he accounted for it by supposing that voluntary

exertion diminishes the energy of sensation.[11] This explanation is,

however, inadmissible, for, although we cannot easily tickle ourselves by

the contact of the skin with our own fingers, we can do so with the aid of

a foreign body, like a feather. We may perhaps suppose that, as

ticklishness has probably developed under the influence of natural

selection as a method of protection against attack and a warning of the

approach of foreign bodies, its end would be defeated if it involved a

simple reaction to the contact of the organism with itself. This need of

protection it is which involves the necessity of a minimal excitation

producing a maximal effect, though the mechanism whereby this takes place

has caused considerable discussion. We may, it is probable, best account

for it by invoking the summation-irradiation theory of pain-pleasure, the

summation of the stimuli in their course through the nerves, aided by

capillary congestion, leading to irradiation due to anastomoses between

the tactile corpuscles, not to speak of the much wider irradiation which

is possible by means of central nervous connections.

Prof. C.L. Herrick adopts this explanation of the phenomena of

tickling, and rests it, in part, on Dogiel's study of the tactile

corpuscles ("Psychological Corollaries of Modern Neurological

Discoveries," _Journal of Comparative Neurology_, March, 1898).

The following remarks of Prof. A. Allin may also be quoted in

further explanation of the same theory: "So far as ticklishness

is concerned, a very important factor in the production of this

feeling is undoubtedly that of the summation of stimuli. In a

research of Stirling's, carried on under Ludwig's direction, it

was shown that reflex contractions only occur from repeated

shocks to the nerve-centres--that is, through summation of

successive stimuli. That this result is also due in some degree

to an alternating increase in the sensibility of the various

areas in question from altered supply of blood is reasonably

certain. As a consequence of this summation-process there would

result in many cases and in cases of excessive nervous discharge

the opposite of pleasure, namely: pain. A number of instances

have been recorded of death resulting from tickling, and there is

no reason to doubt the truth of the statement that Simon de

Montfort, during the persecution of the Albigenses, put some of

them to death by tickling the soles of their feet with a feather.

An additional causal factor in the production of tickling may lie

in the nature and structure of the nervous process involved in

perception in general. According to certain histological

researches of recent years we know that between the sense-organs

and the central nervous system there exist closely connected

chains of conductors or neurons, along which an impression

received by a single sensory cell on the periphery is propagated

avalanchelike through an increasing number of neurons until the

brain is reached. If on the periphery a single cell is excited

the avalanchelike process continues until finally hundreds or

thousands of nerve-cells in the cortex are aroused to

considerable activity. Golgi, Ramón y Cajal, Koelliker, Held,

Retzius, and others have demonstrated the histological basis of

this law for vision, hearing, and smell, and we may safely assume

from the phenomena of tickling that the sense of touch is not

lacking in a similar arrangement. May not a suggestion be

offered, with some plausibility, that even in ideal or

representative tickling, where tickling results, say, from

someone pointing a finger at the ticklish places, this

avalanchelike process may be incited from central centres, thus

producing, although in a modified degree, the pleasant phenomena

in question? As to the deepest causal factor, I should say that

tickling is the result of vasomotor shock." (A. Allin, "On

Laughter," _Psychological Review_, May, 1903.)

The intellectual element in tickling conies out in its connection with

laughter and the sense of the comic, of which it may be said to constitute

the physical basis. While we are not here concerned with laughter and the

comic sense,--a subject which has lately attracted considerable

attention,--it may be instructive to point out that there is more than an

analogy between laughter and the phenomena of sexual tumescence and

detumescence. The process whereby prolonged tickling, with its nervous

summation and irradiation and accompanying hyperæmia, finds sudden relief

in an explosion of laughter is a real example of tumescence--as it has

been defined in the study in another volume entitled "An Analysis of the

Sexual Impulse"--resulting finally in the orgasm of detumescence. The

reality of the connection between the sexual embrace and tickling is

indicated by the fact that in some languages, as in that of the

Fuegians,[12] the same word is applied to both. That ordinary tickling is

not sexual is due to the circumstances of the case and the regions to

which the tickling is applied. If, however, the tickling is applied within

the sexual sphere, then there is a tendency for orgasm to take place

instead of laughter. The connection which, through the phenomena of

tickling, laughter thus bears to the sexual sphere is well indicated, as

Groos has pointed out, by the fact that in sexually-minded people sexual

allusions tend to produce laughter, this being the method by which they

are diverted from the risks of more specifically sexual detumescence.[13]

Reference has been made to the view of Alrutz, according to which

tickling is a milder degree of itching. It is more convenient and

probably more correct to regard itching or pruritus, as it is

termed in its pathological forms, as a distinct sensation, for it

does not arise under precisely the same conditions as tickling

nor is it relieved in the same way. There is interest, however,

in pointing out in this connection that, like tickling, itching

has a real parallelism to the specialized sexual sensations.

Bronson, who has very ably interpreted the sensations of itching

(New York Neurological Society, October 7, 1890; _Medical News_,

February 14, 1903, and summarized in the _British Medical

Journal_, March 7, 1903; and elsewhere), regards it as a

perversion of the sense of touch, a dysæsthesia due to obstructed

nerve-excitation with imperfect conduction of the generated force

into correlated nervous energy. The scratching which relieves

itching directs the nervous energy into freer channels, sometimes

substituting for the pruritus either painful or voluptuous

sensations. Such voluptuous sensations may be regarded as a

generalized aphrodisiac sense comparable to the specialized

sexual orgasm. Bronson refers to the significant fact that

itching occurs so frequently in the sexual region, and states

that sexual neurasthenia is sometimes the only discoverable cause

of genital and anal pruritus. (Cf. discussion on pruritus,

_British Medical Journal_, November 30, 1895.) Gilman, again

(_American Journal of Psychology_, vi, p. 22), considers that

scratching, as well as sneezing, is comparable to coitus.

The sexual embrace has an intimate connection with the phenomena of

ticklishness which could not fail to be recognized. This connection is,

indeed, the basis of Spinoza's famous definition of love,--"_Amor est

titillatio quædam concomitante idea causæ externæ_,"--a statement which

seems to be reflected in Chamfort's definition of love as "_l'échange de

deux fantaisies, et le contact de deux epidermes_." The sexual act, says

Gowers, is, in fact, a skin reflex.[14] "The sexual parts," Hall and Allin

state, "have a ticklishness as unique as their function and as keen as

their importance." Herrick finds the supreme illustration of the summation

and irradiation theory of tickling in the phenomena of erotic excitement,

and points out that in harmony with this the skin of the sexual region is,

as Dogiel has shown, that portion of the body in which the tactile

corpuscles are most thoroughly and elaborately provided with anastomosing

fibres. It has been pointed out[15] that, when ordinary tactile

sensibility is partially abolished,--especially in hemianæsthesia in the

insane,--some sexual disturbance is specially apt to be found in

association.

In young children, in girls even when they are no longer children, and

occasionally in men, tickling may be a source of acute pleasure, which in

very early life is not sexual, but later tends to become so under

circumstances predisposing to the production of erotic emotion, and

especially when the nervous system is keyed up to a high tone favorable

for the production of the maximum effect of tickling.

"When young," writes a lady aged 28, "I was extremely fond of

being tickled, and I am to some extent still. Between the ages of

10 and 12 it gave me exquisite pleasure, which I now regard as

sexual in character. I used to bribe my younger sister to tickle

my feet until she was tired."

Stanley Hall and Allin in their investigation of the phenomena of

tickling, largely carried out among young women teachers, found

that in 60 clearly marked cases ticklishness was more marked at

one time than another, "as when they have been 'carrying on,' or

are in a happy mood, are nervous or unwell, after a good meal,

when being washed, when in perfect health, when with people they

like, etc." (Hall and Allin, "Tickling and Laughter," _American

Journal of Psychology_, October, 1897.) It will be observed that

most of the conditions mentioned are such as would be favorable

to excitations of an emotionally sexual character.

The palms of the hands may be very ticklish during sexual

excitement, especially in women, and Moll (_Konträre

Sexualempfindung_, p. 180) remarks that in some men titillation

of the skin of the back, of the feet, and even of the forehead

evokes erotic feelings.

It may be added that, as might be expected, titillation of the

skin often has the same significance in animals as in man. "In

some animals," remarks Louis Robinson (art. "Ticklishness,"

_Dictionary of Psychological Medicine_), "local titillation of

the skin, though in parts remote from the reproductive organs,

plainly acts indirectly upon them as a stimulus. Thus, Harvey

records that, by stroking the back of a favorite parrot (which he

had possessed for years and supposed to be a male), he not only

gave the bird gratification,--which was the sole intention of the

illustrious physiologist,--but also caused it to reveal its sex

by laying an egg."

The sexual significance of tickling is very clearly indicated by the fact

that the general ticklishness of the body, which is so marked in children

and in young girls, greatly diminishes, as a rule, after sexual

relationships have been established. Dr. Gina Lombroso, who investigated

the cutaneous reflexes, found that both the abdominal and plantar

reflexes, which are well marked in childhood and in young people between

the ages of 15 and 18, were much diminished in older persons, and to a

greater extent in women than in men, to a greater extent in the abdominal

region than on the soles of the feet;[16] her results do not directly show

the influence of sexual relationship, but they have an indirect bearing

which is worth noting.

The difference in ticklishness between the unmarried woman and the married

woman corresponds to their difference in degree of modesty. Both modesty

and ticklishness may be said to be characters which are no longer needed.

From this point of view the general ticklishness of the skin is a kind of

body modesty. It is so even apart from any sexual significance of

tickling, and Louis Robinson has pointed out that in young apes, puppies,

and other like animals the most ticklish regions correspond to the most

vulnerable spots in a fight, and that consequently in the mock fights of

early life skill in defending these spots is attained.

In Iceland, according to Margarethe Filhés (as quoted by Max

Bartels, _Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, 1900, ht. 2-3, p. 57), it

may be known whether a youth is pure or a maid is intact by their

susceptibility to tickling. It is considered a bad sign if that

is lost.

I am indebted to a medical correspondent for the following

communication: "Married women have told me that they find that

after marriage they are not ticklish under the arms or on the

breasts, though before marriage any tickling or touching in these

regions, especially by a man, would make them jump or get

hysterical or 'queer,' as they call it. Before coitus the sexual

energy seems to be dissipated along all the nerve-channels and

especially along the secondary sexual routes,--the breasts, nape

of neck, eyebrows, lips, cheeks, armpits, and hair thereon,

etc.,--but after marriage the surplus energy is diverted from

these secondary channels, and response to tickling is diminished.

I have often noted in insane cases, especially mania in

adolescent girls, that they are excessively ticklish. Again, in

ordinary routine practice I have observed that, though married

women show no ticklishness during auscultation and percussion of

the chest, this is by no means always so in young girls. Perhaps

ticklishness in virgins is Nature's self-protection against rape

and sexual advances, and the young girl instinctively wishing to

hide the armpits, breasts, and other ticklish regions, tucks

herself up to prevent these parts being touched. The married

woman, being in love with a man, does not shut up these parts, as

she reciprocates the advances that he makes; she no longer

requires ticklishness as a protection against sexual aggression."

FOOTNOTES:

[5] Alrutz's views are summarized in _Psychological Review_, Sept., 1901.

[6] _Die Spiele der Menschen_, 1899, p. 206.

[7] L. Robinson, art. "Ticklishness," Tuke's _Dictionary of Psychological

Medicine_.

[8] Stanley Hall and Allin, "Tickling and Laughter," _American Journal of

Psychology_, October, 1897.

[9] H.M. Stanley, "Remarks on Tickling and Laughter," _American Journal of

Psychology_, vol. ix, January, 1898.

[10] Simpson, "On the Attitude of the Foetus in Utero," _Obstetric

Memoirs_, 1856, vol. ii.

[11] Erasmus Darwin, _Zoönomia_, Sect. XVII, 4.

[12] Hyades and Deniker, _Mission Scientifique du Cap Horn_, vol. vii. p.

296.

[13] Such an interpretation is supported by the arguments of W. McDougall

("The Theory of Laughter," _Nature_, February 5, 1903), who contends,

without any reference to the sexual field, that one of the objects of

laughter is automatically to "disperse our attention."

[14] Even the structure of the vaginal mucous membrane, it may be noted,

is analogous to that of the skin. D. Berry Hart, "Note on the Development

of the Clitoris, Vagina, and Hymen," _Transactions of the Edinburgh

Obstetrical Society_, vol. xxi, 1896.

[15] W.H.B. Stoddart, "Anæsthesia in the Insane," _Journal of Mental

Science_, October, 1899.

[16] Gina Lombroso, "Sur les Réflexes Cutanés," International Congress of

Criminal Anthropology, Amsterdam, _Comptes Rendus_, p. 295.

III.

The Secondary Sexual Skin Centres--Orificial Contacts--Cunnilingus and

Fellatio--The Kiss--The Nipples--The Sympathy of the Breasts with the

Primary Sexual Centres--This Connection Operative both through the Nerves

and through the Blood--The Influence of Lactation on the Sexual

Centres--Suckling and Sexual Emotion--The Significance of the Association

between Suckling and Sexual Emotion--This Association as a Cause of Sexual

Perversity.

We have seen that the skin generally has a high degree of sensibility,

which frequently tends to be in more or less definite association with the

sexual centres. We have seen also that the central and specific sexual

sensation, the sexual embrace itself, is, in large measure, a specialized

kind of skin reflex. Between the generalized skin sensations and the great

primary sexual centre of sensation there are certain secondary sexual

centres which, on account of their importance, may here be briefly

considered.

These secondary centres have in common the fact that they always involve

the entrances and the exits of the body--the regions, that is, where skin

merges into mucous membrane, and where, in the course of evolution,

tactile sensibility has become highly refined. It may, indeed, be said

generally of these frontier regions of the body that their contact with

the same or a similar frontier region in another person of opposite sex,

under conditions otherwise favorable to tumescence, will tend to produce a

minimum and even sometimes a maximum degree of sexual excitation. Contact

of these regions with each other or with the sexual region itself so

closely simulates the central sexual reflex that channels are set up for

the same nervous energy and secondary sexual centres are constituted.

It is important to remember that the phenomena we are here concerned with

are essentially normal. Many of them are commonly spoken of as

perversions. In so far, however, as they are aids to tumescence they must

be regarded as coming within the range of normal variation. They may be

considered unæsthetic, but that is another matter. It has, moreover, to be

remembered that æsthetic values are changed under the influence of sexual

emotion; from the lover's point of view many things are beautiful which

are unbeautiful from the point of view of him who is not a lover, and the

greater the degree to which the lover is swayed by his passion the greater

the extent to which his normal æsthetic standard is liable to be modified.

A broad consideration of the phenomena among civilized and uncivilized

peoples amply suffices to show the fallacy of the tendency, so common

among unscientific writers on these subjects, to introduce normal æsthetic

standards into the sexual sphere. From the normal standpoint of ordinary

daily life, indeed, the whole process of sex is unæsthetic, except the

earlier stages of tumescence.[17]

So long as they constitute a part of the phase of tumescence, the

utilization of the sexual excitations obtainable through these channels

must be considered within the normal range of variation, as we may

observe, indeed, among many animals. When, however, such contacts of the

orifices of the body, other than those of the male and female sexual

organs proper, are used to procure not merely tumescence, but

detumescence, they become, in the strict and technical sense, perversions.

They are perversions in exactly the same sense as are the methods of

intercourse which involve the use of checks to prevent fecundation. The

æsthetic question, however, remains the same as if we were dealing with

tumescence. It is necessary that this should be pointed out clearly, even

at the risk of misapprehension, as confusions are here very common.

The essentially sexual character of the sensitivity of the

orificial contacts is shown by the fact that it may sometimes be

accidentally developed even in early childhood. This is well

illustrated in a case recorded by Féré. A little girl of 4, of

nervous temperament and liable to fits of anger in which she

would roll on the ground and tear her clothes, once ran out into

the garden in such a fit of temper and threw herself on the lawn

in a half-naked condition. As she lay there two dogs with whom

she was accustomed to play came up and began to lick the

uncovered parts of the body. It so happened that as one dog

licked her mouth the other licked her sexual parts. She

experienced a shock of intense sensation which she could never

forget and never describe, accompanied by a delicious tension of

the sexual organs. She rose and ran away with a feeling of shame,

though she could not comprehend what had happened. The impression

thus made was so profound that it persisted throughout life and

served as the point of departure of sexual perversions, while the

contact of a dog's tongue with her mouth alone afterward sufficed

to evoke sexual pleasure. (Féré, _Archives de Neurologie_, 1903,

No. 90.)

I do not purpose to discuss here either _cunnilingus_ (the

apposition of the mouth to the female pudendum) or _fellatio_

(the apposition of the mouth to the male organ), the agent in the

former case being, in normal heterosexual relationships, a man,

in the latter a woman; they are not purely tactile phenomena, but

involve various other physical and psychic elements.

_Cunnilingus_ was a very familiar manifestation in classic times,

as shown by frequent and mostly very contemptuous references in

Aristophanes, Juvenal, and many other Greek and Roman writers;

the Greeks regarded it as a Phoenician practice, just as it is

now commonly considered French; it tends to be especially

prevalent at all periods of high civilization. _Fellatio_ has

also been equally well known, in both ancient and modern times,

especially as practiced by inverted men. It may be accepted that

both _cunnilingus_ and _fellatio_, as practiced by either sex,

are liable to occur among healthy or morbid persons, in

heterosexual or homosexual relationships. They have little

psychological significance, except to the extent that when

practiced to the exclusion of normal sexual relationships they

become perversions, and as such tend to be associated with

various degenerative conditions, although such associations are

not invariable.

The essentially normal character of _cunnilingus_ and _fellatio_,

when occurring as incidents in the process of tumescence, is

shown by the fact that they are practiced by many animals. This

is the case, for instance, among dogs. Moll points out that not

infrequently the bitch, while under the dog, but before

intromission, will change her position to lick the dog's

penis--apparently from an instinctive impulse to heighten her own

and his excitement--and then return to the normal position, while

_cunnilingus_ is of constant occurrence among animals, and on

account of its frequency among dogs was called by the Greeks

skylax (Rosenbaum, _Geschichte der Lustseuche im Altertume_,

fifth edition, pp. 260-278; also notes in Moll, _Untersuchungen

über pie Libido Sexualis_, Bd. I, pp. 134, 369; and Bloch,

_Beiträge zur Ætiologie der Psychopathia Sexualis_, Teil II, pp.

216 et seq.)

The occurrence of _cunnilingus_ as a sexual episode of tumescence

among lower human races is well illustrated by a practice of the

natives of the Caroline Islands (as recorded by Kubary in his

ethnographic study of this people and quoted by Ploss and

Bartels, _Das Weib_, vol. i). It is here customary for a man to

place a piece of fish between the labia, while he stimulates the

latter by his tongue and teeth until under stress of sexual

excitement the woman urinates; this is regarded as an indication

that the proper moment for intercourse has arrived. Such a

practice rests on physiologically sound facts whatever may be

thought of it from an æsthetic standpoint.

The contrast between the normal æsthetic standpoint in this

matter and the lover's is well illustrated by the following

quotations: Dr. A.B. Holder, in the course of his description of

the American Indian _boté_, remarks, concerning _fellatio_: "Of

all the many varieties of sexual perversion, this, it seems to

me, is the most debased that could be conceived of." On the other

hand, in a communication from a writer and scholar of high

intellectual distinction occurs the statement: "I affirm that, of

all sexual acts, _fellatio_ is most an affair of imagination and

sympathy." It must be pointed out that there is no contradiction

in these two statements, and that each is justified, according as

we take the point of view of the ordinary onlooker or of the

impassioned lover eager to give a final proof of his or her

devotion. It must be added that from a scientific point of view

we are not entitled to take either side.

Of the whole of this group of phenomena, the most typical and the most

widespread example is certainly the kiss. We have in the lips a highly

sensitive frontier region between skin and mucous membrane, in many

respects analogous to the vulvo-vaginal orifice, and reinforcible,

moreover, by the active movements of the still more highly sensitive

tongue. Close and prolonged contact of these regions, therefore, under

conditions favorable to tumescence sets up a powerful current of nervous

stimulation. After those contacts in which the sexual regions themselves

take a direct part, there is certainly no such channel for directing

nervous force into the sexual sphere as the kiss. This is nowhere so well

recognized as in France, where a young girl's lips are religiously kept

for her lover, to such an extent, indeed, that young girls sometimes come

to believe that the whole physical side of love is comprehended in a kiss

on the mouth; so highly intelligent a woman as Madam Adam has described

the agony she felt as a girl when kissed on the lips by a man, owing to

the conviction that she had thereby lost her virtue. Although the lips

occupy this highly important position as a secondary sexual focus

in the sphere of touch, the kiss is--unlike _cunnilingus_ and

_fellatio_--confined to man and, indeed, to a large extent, to civilized

man. It is the outcome of a compound evolution which had its beginning

outside the sphere of touch, and it would therefore be out of place to

deal with the interesting question of its development in this place. It

will be discussed elsewhere.[18]

There is yet another orificial frontier region which is a highly important

tactile sexual focus: the nipple. The breasts raise, indeed, several

interesting questions in their intimate connection with the sexual sphere

and it may be worth while to consider them at this point.

The breasts have from the present point of view this special significance

among the sexual centres that they primarily exist, not for the contact of

the lover, but the contact of the child. This is doubtless, indeed, the

fundamental fact on which all the touch contacts we are here concerned

with have grown up. The sexual sensitivity of the lover's lips to

orificial contacts has been developed from the sensitivity of the infant's

lips to contact with his mother's nipple. It is on the ground of that

evolution that we are bound to consider here the precise position of the

breasts as a sexual centre.

As the great secreting organs of milk, the function of the breasts must

begin immediately the child is cut off from the nutrition derived from

direct contact with his mother's blood. It is therefore essential that the

connection between the sexual organs proper, more especially the womb, and

the breasts should be exceedingly intimate, so that the breasts may be in

a condition to respond adequately to the demand of the child's sucking

lips at the earliest moment after birth. As a matter of fact, this

connection is very intimate, so intimate that it takes place in two

totally distinct ways--by the nervous system and by the blood.

The breasts of young girls sometimes become tender at puberty in

sympathy with the evolution of the sexual organs, although the

swelling of the breasts at this period is not normally a

glandular process. At the recurring periods of menstruation,

again, sensations in the breasts are not uncommon.

It is not, however, until impregnation occurs that really

decisive changes take place in the breasts. "As soon as the ovum

is impregnated, that is to say within a few days," as W.D.A.

Griffith states it ("The Diagnosis of Pregnancy," _British

Medical Journal_, April 11, 1903), "the changes begin to occur in

the breast, changes which are just as well worked out as are the

changes in the uterus and the vagina, which, from the

commencement of pregnancy, prepare for the labor which ought to

follow nine months afterward. These are changes in the direction

of marked activity of function. An organ which was previously

quite passive, without activity of circulation and the effects of

active circulation, begins to grow and continues to grow in

activity and size as pregnancy progresses."

The association between breasts and womb is so obvious that it

has not escaped many savage peoples, who are often, indeed,

excellent observers. Among one primitive people at least the

activity of the breast at impregnation seems to be clearly

recognized. The Sinangolo of British New Guinea, says Seligmann

(_Journal of the Anthropological Institute_, July-December, 1902,

p. 298) believe that conception takes place in the breasts; on

this account they hold that coitus should never take place before

the child is weaned or he might imbibe semen with the milk.

It is natural to assume that this connection between the activity

of the womb and the glandular activity of the breasts is a

nervous connection, by means of the spinal cord, and such a

connection certainly exists and plays a very important part in

the stimulating action of the breasts on the sexual organs. But

that there is a more direct channel of communication even than

the nervous system is shown by the fact that the secretion of

milk will take place at parturition, even when the nervous

connection has been destroyed. Mironoff found that, when the

mammary gland is completely separated from the central nervous

system, secretion, though slightly diminished, still continued.

In two goats he cut the nerves shortly before parturition and

after birth the breasts still swelled and functioned normally

(_Archives des Sciences Biologiques_, St. Petersburg, 1895,

summarized in _L'Année Biologique_; 1895, p. 329). Ribbert,

again, cut out the mammary gland of a young rabbit and

transplanted it into the ear; five months after the rabbit bore

young and the gland secreted milk freely. The case has been

reported of a woman whose spinal cord was destroyed by an

accident at the level of the fifth and sixth dorsal vertebræ,

yet lactation was perfectly normal (_British Medical Journal_,

August 5, 1899, p. 374). We are driven to suppose that there is

some chemical change in the blood, some internal secretion from

the uterus or the ovaries, which acts as a direct stimulant to

the breasts. (See a comprehensive discussion of the phenomena of

the connection between the breasts and sexual organs, though the

conclusions are not unassailable, by Temesvary, _Journal of

Obstetrics and Gynæcology of the British Empire_, June, 1903).

That this hypothetical secretion starts from the womb rather than

the ovaries seems to be indicated by the fact that removal of

both ovaries during pregnancy will not suffice to prevent

lactation. In favor of the ovaries, see Beatson, _Lancet_, July,

1896; in favor of the uterus, Armand Routh, "On the Interaction

between the Ovaries and the Mammary Glands," _British Medical

Journal_, September 30, 1899.

While, however, the communications from the sexual organs to the breast

are of a complex and at present ill understood character, the

communication from the breasts to the sexual organs is without doubt

mainly and chiefly nervous. When the child is put to the breast after

birth the suction of the nipple causes a reflex contraction of the womb,

and it is held by many, though not all, authorities that in a woman who

does not suckle her child there is some risk that the womb will not return

to its normal involuted size. It has also been asserted that to put a

child to the breast during the early months of pregnancy causes so great a

degree of uterine contraction that abortion may result.

Freund found in Germany that stimulation of the nipples by an

electrical cupping apparatus brought about contraction of the

pregnant uterus. At an earlier period it was recommended to

irritate the nipple in order to excite the uterus to parturient

action. Simpson, while pointing out that this was scarcely

adequate to produce the effect desired, thought that placing a

child to the breast after labor had begun might increase uterine

action. (J.Y. Simpson, _Obstetric Memoirs_, vol. i, p. 836; also

Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, second edition, p. 132).

The influence of lactation over the womb in preventing the return

of menstruation during its continuance is well known. According

to Remfry's investigation of 900 cases in England, in 57 per

cent. of cases there is no menstruation during lactation. (L.

Remfry, in paper read before Obstetrical Society of London,

summarized in the _British Medical Journal_, January 11, 1896, p.

86). Bendix, in Germany, found among 140 cases that in about 40

per cent. there was no menstruation during lactation (paper read

before Düsseldorf meeting of the Society of German Naturalists

and Physicians, 1899). When the child is not suckled menstruation

tends to reappear about six months after parturition.

It is possible that the divergent opinions of authorities

concerning the necessarily favorable influence of lactation in

promoting the return of the womb to its normal size may be due to

a confusion of two distinct influences: the reflex action of the

nipple on the womb and the effects of prolonged glandular

secretion of the breasts in debilitated persons. The act of

suckling undoubtedly tends to promote uterine contraction, and in

healthy women during lactation the womb may even (according to

Vineberg) be temporarily reduced to a smaller size than before

impregnation, thus producing what is known as "lactation

atrophy." In debilitated women, however, the strain of

milk-production may lead to general lack of muscular tone, and

involution of the womb thus be hindered rather than aided by

lactation.

On the objective side, then, the nipple is to be regarded as an erectile

organ, richly supplied with nerves and vessels, which, under the

stimulation of the infant's lips--or any similar compression, and even

under the influence of emotion or cold,--becomes firm and projects, mainly

as a result of muscular contraction; for, unlike the penis and the

clitoris, the nipple contains no true erectile tissue and little capacity

for vascular engorgement.[19] We must then suppose that an impetus tends

to be transmitted through the spinal cord to the sexual organs, setting up

a greater or less degree of nervous and muscular excitement with uterine

contraction. These being the objective manifestations, what manifestations

are to be noted on the subjective side?

It is a remarkable proof of the general indifference with which in Europe

even the fairly constant and prominent characteristics of the psychology

of women have been treated until recent times that, so far as I am

aware,--though I have made no special research to this end,--no one before

the end of the eighteenth century had recorded the fact that the act of

suckling tends to produce in women voluptuous sexual emotions. Cabanis in

1802, in the memoir on "Influence des Sexes" in his _Rapports du Physique

et du Moral de l'Homme_, wrote that several suckling women had told him

that the child in sucking the breast made them experience a vivid

sensation of pleasure, shared in some degree by the sexual organs. There

can be no doubt that in healthy suckling women this phenomenon is

exceedingly common, though in the absence of any methodical and precise

investigation it cannot be affirmed that it is experienced by every woman

in some degree, and it is highly probable that this is not the case. One

lady, perfectly normal, states that she has had stronger sexual feelings

in suckling her children than she has ever experienced with her husband,

but that so far as possible she has tried to repress them, as she regards

them as brutish under these circumstances. Many other women state

generally that suckling is the most delicious physical feeling they have

ever experienced. In most cases, however, it does not appear to lead to a

desire for intercourse, and some of those who make this statement have no

desire for coitus during lactation, though they may have strong sexual

needs at other times. It is probable that this corresponds to the normal

condition, and that the voluptuous sensations aroused by suckling are

adequately gratified by the child. It may be added that there are probably

many women who could say, with a lady quoted by Féré,[20] that the only

real pleasures of sex they have ever known are those derived from their

suckling infants.

It is not difficult to see why this normal association of sexual emotion

with suckling should have come about. It is essential for the preservation

of the lives of young mammals that the mothers should have an adequate

motive in pleasurable sensation for enduring the trouble of suckling. The

most obvious method for obtaining the necessary degree of pleasurable

sensation lay in utilizing the reservoir of sexual emotion, with which

channels of communication might already be said to be open through the

action of the sexual organs on the breasts during pregnancy. The

voluptuous element in suckling may thus be called a merciful provision of

Nature for securing the maintenance of the child.

Cabanis seems to have realized the significance of this

connection as the basis of the sympathy between mother and child,

and more recently Lombroso and Ferrero have remarked (_La Donna

Delinquente_, p. 438) on the fact that maternal love has a sexual

basis in the element of venereal pleasure, though usually

inconsiderable, experienced during suckling. Houzeau has referred

to the fact that in the majority of animals the relation between

mother and offspring is only close during the period of

lactation, and this is certainly connected with the fact that it

is only during lactation that the female animal can derive

physical gratification from her offspring. When living on a farm

I have ascertained that cows sometimes, though not frequently,

exhibit slight signs of sexual excitement, with secretion of

mucus, while being milked; so that, as the dairymaid herself

observed, it is as if they were being "bulled." The sow, like

some other mammals, often eats her own young after birth,

mistaking them, it is thought, for the placenta, which is

normally eaten by most mammals; it is said that the sow never

eats her young when they have once taken the teat.

It occasionally happens that this normal tendency for suckling to

produce voluptuous sexual emotions is present in an extreme

degree, and may lead to sexual perversions. It does not appear

that the sexual sensations aroused by suckling usually culminate

in the orgasm; this however, was noted in a case recorded by

Féré, of a slightly neurotic woman in whom intense sexual

excitement occurred during suckling, especially if prolonged; so

far as possible, she shortened the periods of suckling in order

to prevent, not always successfully, the occurrence of the orgasm

(Féré, _Archives de Neurologie_ No. 30, 1903). Icard refers to

the case of a woman who sought to become pregnant solely for the

sake of the voluptuous sensations she derived from suckling, and

Yellowlees (Art. "Masturbation," _Dictionary of Psychological

Medicine_) speaks of the overwhelming character of "the storms of

sexual feeling sometimes observed during lactation."

It may be remarked that the frequency of the association between

lactation and the sexual sensations is indicated by the fact

that, as Savage remarks, lactational insanity is often

accompanied by fancies regarding the reproductive organs.

When we have realized the special sensitivity of the orificial regions and

the peculiarly close relationships between the breasts and the sexual

organs we may easily understand the considerable part which they normally

play in the art of love. As one of the chief secondary sexual characters

in women, and one of her chief beauties, a woman's breasts offer

themselves to the lover's lips with a less intimate attraction than her

mouth only because the mouth is better able to respond. On her side, such

contact is often instinctively desired. Just as the sexual disturbance of

pregnancy is accompanied by a sympathetic disturbance in the breasts, so

the sexual excitement produced by the lover's proximity reacts on the

breasts; the nipple becomes turgid and erect in sympathy with the

clitoris; the woman craves to place her lover in the place of the child,

and experiences a sensation in which these two supreme objects of her

desire are deliciously mingled.

The powerful effect which stimulation of the nipple produces on

the sexual sphere has led to the breasts playing a prominent part

in the erotic art of those lands in which this art has been most

carefully cultivated. Thus in India, according to Vatsyayana,

many authors are of the opinion that in approaching a woman a

lover should begin by sucking the nipples of her breasts, and in

the songs of the Bayaderes of Southern India sucking the nipple

is mentioned as one of the natural preliminaries of coitus.

In some cases, and more especially in neurotic persons, the

sexual pleasure derived from manipulation of the nipple passes

normal limits and, being preferred even to coitus, becomes a

perversion. In girls' schools, it is said, especially in France,

sucking and titillation of the breasts are not uncommon; in men,

also, titillation of the nipples occasionally produces sexual

sensations (Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, second edition, p. 132).

Hildebrandt recorded the case of a young woman whose nipples had

been sucked by her lover; by constantly drawing her breasts she

became able to suck them herself and thus attained extreme sexual

pleasure. A.J. Bloch, of New Orleans, has noted the case of a

woman who complained of swelling of the breasts; the gentlest

manipulation produced an orgasm, and it was found that the

swelling had been intentionally produced for the sake of this

manipulation. Moraglia in Italy knew a very beautiful woman who

was perfectly cold in normal sexual relationships, but madly

excited when her husband pressed or sucked her breasts. Lombroso

(_Archivio di Psichiatria_, 1885, fasc. IV) has described the

somewhat similar case of a woman who had no sexual sensitivity in

the clitoris, vagina, or labia, and no pleasure in coitus except

in very strange positions, but possessed intense sexual feelings

in the right nipple as well as in the upper third of the thigh.

It is remarkable that not only is suckling apt to be accompanied

by sexual pleasure in the mother, but that, in some cases, the

infant also appears to have a somewhat similar experience. This

is, at all events, indicated in a remarkable case recorded by

Féré (_L'Instinct Sexuel_, second edition, p. 257). A female

infant child of slightly neurotic heredity was weaned at the age

of 14 months, but so great was her affection for her mother's

breasts, though she had already become accustomed to other food,

that this was only accomplished with great difficulty and by

allowing her still to caress the naked breasts several times a

day. This went on for many months, when the mother, becoming

again pregnant, insisted on putting an end to it. So jealous was

the child, however, that it was necessary to conceal from her the

fact that her younger sister was suckled at her mother's breasts,

and once at the age of 3, when she saw her father aiding her

mother to undress, she became violently jealous of him. This

jealousy, as well as the passion for her mother's breasts,

persisted to the age of puberty, though she learned to conceal

it. At the age of 13, when menstruation began, she noticed in

dancing with her favorite girl friends that when her breasts came

in contact with theirs she experienced a very agreeable

sensation, with erection of the nipples; but it was not till the

age of 16 that she observed that the sexual region took part in

this excitement and became moist. From this period she had erotic

dreams about young girls. She never experienced any attraction

for young men, but eventually married; though having much esteem

and affection for her husband, she never felt any but the

slightest sexual enjoyment in his arms, and then only by evoking

feminine images. This case, in which the sensations of an infant

at the breast formed the point of departure of a sexual

perversion which lasted through life, is, so far as I am aware,

unique.

FOOTNOTES:

[17] Jonas Cohn (_Allgemeine Æsthetik_, 1901, p. 11) lays it down that

psychology has nothing to do with good or bad taste. "The distinction

between good and bad taste has no meaning for psychology. On this account,

the fundamental conceptions of æsthetics cannot arise from psychology." It

may be a question whether this view can be accepted quite absolutely.

[18] See Appendix A: "The Origins of the Kiss."

[19] See J.B. Hellier, "On the Nipple Reflex," _British Medical Journal_,

November 7, 1896.

[20] Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, second edition, p. 147.

IV.

The Bath--Antagonism of Primitive Christianity to the Cult of the

Skin--Its Cult of Personal Filth--The Reasons which Justified this

Attitude--The World-wide Tendency to Association between Extreme

Cleanliness and Sexual Licentiousness--The Immorality Associated with

Public Baths in Europe down to Modern Times.

The hygiene of the skin, as well as its special cult, consists in bathing.

The bath, as is well known, attained under the Romans a degree of

development which, in Europe at all events, it has never reached before or

since, and the modern visitor to Rome carries away with him no more

impressive memory than that of the Baths of Caracalla. Since the coming of

Christianity the cult of the skin, and even its hygiene, have never again

attained the same general and unquestioned exaltation. The Church killed

the bath. St. Jerome tells us with approval that when the holy Paula noted

that any of her nuns were too careful in this matter she would gravely

reprove them, saying that "the purity of the body and its garments means

the impurity of the soul."[21] Or, as the modern monk of Mount Athos still

declares: "A man should live in dirt as in a coat of mail, so that his

soul may sojourn more securely within."

Our knowledge of the bathing arrangements of Roman days is

chiefly derived from Pompeii. Three public baths (two for both

men and women, who were also probably allowed to use the third

occasionally) have so far been excavated in this small town, as

well as at least three private bathing establishments (at least

one of them for women), while about a dozen houses contain

complete baths for private use. Even in a little farm house at

Boscoreale (two miles out of Pompeii) there was an elaborate

series of bathing rooms. It may be added that Pompeii was well

supplied with water. All houses but the poorest had flowing

jets, and some houses had as many as ten jets. (See Man's

_Pompeii_, Chapters XXVI-XXVIII.)

The Church succeeded to the domination of imperial Rome, and

adopted many of the methods of its predecessor. But there could

be no greater contrast than is presented by the attitude of

Paganism and of Christianity toward the bath.

As regards the tendencies of the public baths in imperial Rome,

some of the evidence is brought together in the section on this

subject in Rosenbaum's _Geschichte der Lustseuche im Alterthume_.

As regards the attitude of the earliest Christian ascetics in

this matter I may refer the reader to an interesting passage in

Lecky's _History of European Morals_ (vol. ii, pp. 107-112), in

which are brought together a number of highly instructive

examples of the manner in which many of the most eminent of the

early saints deliberately cultivated personal filth.

In the middle ages, when the extreme excesses of the early

ascetics had died out, and monasticiam became regulated, monks

generally took two baths a year when in health; in illness they

could be taken as often as necessary. The rules of Cluny only

allowed three towels to the community: one for the novices, one

for the professed, and one for the lay brothers. At the end of

the seventeenth century Madame de Mazarin, having retired to a

convent of Visitandines, one day desired to wash her feet, but

the whole establishment was set in an uproar at such an idea, and

she received a direct refusal. In 1760 the Dominican Richard

wrote that in itself the bath is permissible, but it must be

taken solely for necessity, not for pleasure. The Church taught,

and this lesson is still inculcated in convent schools, that it

is wrong to expose the body even to one's own gaze, and it is not

surprising that many holy persons boasted that they had never

even washed their hands. (Most of these facts have been taken

from A. Franklin, _Les Soins de Toilette_, one of the _Vie Privée

d'Autrefois_ series, in which further details may be found.)

In sixteenth-century Italy, a land of supreme elegance and

fashion, superior even to France, the conditions were the same,

and how little water found favor even with aristocratic ladies we

may gather from the contemporary books on the toilet, which

abound with recipes against itch and similar diseases. It should

be added that Burckhardt (_Die Cultur der Renaissance in

Italien_, eighth edition, volume ii, p. 92) considers that in

spite of skin diseases the Italians of the Renaissance were the

first nation in Europe for cleanliness.

It is unnecessary to consider the state of things in other

European countries. The aristocratic conditions of former days

are the plebeian conditions of to-day. So far as England is

concerned, such documents as Chadwick's _Report on the Sanitary

Condition of the Laboring Population of Great Britain_ (1842)

sufficiently illustrate the ideas and the practices as regards

personal cleanliness which prevailed among the masses during the

nineteenth century and which to a large extent still prevail.

A considerable amount of opprobrium has been cast upon the Catholic Church

for its direct and indirect influence in promoting bodily uncleanliness.

Nietzsche sarcastically refers to the facts, and Mr. Frederick Harrison

asserts that "the tone of the middle ages in the matter of dirt was a form

of mental disease." It would be easy to quote many other authors to the

same effect.

It is necessary to point out, however, that the writers who have committed

themselves to such utterances have not only done an injustice to

Christianity, but have shown a lack of historical insight. Christianity

was essentially and fundamentally a rebellion against the classic world,

against its vices, and against their concomitant virtues, against both its

practices and its ideals. It sprang up in a different part of the

Mediterranean basin, from a different level of culture; it found its

supporters in a new and lower social stratum. The cult of charity,

simplicity, and faith, while not primarily ascetic, became inevitably

allied with asceticism, because from its point of view: sexuality was the

very stronghold of the classic world. In the second century the genius of

Clement of Alexandria and of the great Christian thinkers who followed him

seized on all those elements in classic life and philosophy which could be

amalgamated with Christianity without, as they trusted, destroying its

essence, but in the matter of sexuality there could be no compromise, and

the condemnation of sexuality involved the condemnation of the bath. It

required very little insight and sagacity for the Christians to

see--though we are now apt to slur over the fact--that the cult of the

bath was in very truth the cult of the flesh.[22] However profound their

ignorance of anatomy, physiology, and psychology might be, they had

before them ample evidence to show that the skin is an outlying sexual

zone and that every application which promoted the purity, brilliance, and

healthfulness of the skin constituted a direct appeal, feeble or strong as

the case might be, to those passions against which they were warring. The

moral was evident: better let the temporary garment of your flesh be

soaked with dirt than risk staining the radiant purity of your immortal

soul. If Christianity had not drawn that moral with clear insight and

relentless logic Christianity would never have been a great force in the

world.

If any doubt is felt as to the really essential character of the

connection between cleanliness and the sexual impulse it may be

dispelled by the consideration that the association is by no

means confined to Christian Europe. If we go outside Europe and

even Christendom altogether, to the other side of the world, we

find it still well marked. The wantonness of the luxurious people

of Tahiti when first discovered by European voyagers is

notorious. The Areoi of Tahiti, a society largely constituted on

a basis of debauchery, is a unique institution so far as

primitive peoples are concerned. Cook, after giving one of the

earliest descriptions of this society and its objects at Tahiti

(Hawkesworth, _An Account of Voyages_, etc., 1775, vol. ii, p.

55), immediately goes on to describe the extreme and scrupulous

cleanliness of the people of Tahiti in every respect; they not

only bathed their bodies and clothes every day, but in all

respects they carried cleanliness to a higher point than even

"the politest assembly in Europe." Another traveler bears similar

testimony: "The inhabitants of the Society Isles are, among all

the nations of the South Seas, the most cleanly; and the better

sort of them carry cleanliness to a very great length"; they

bathe morning and evening in the sea, he remarks, and afterward

in fresh water to remove the particles of salt, wash their hands

before and after meals, etc. (J.R. Forster, "_Observations made

during a Voyage round the World_," 1798, p. 398.) And William

Ellis, in his detailed description of the people of Tahiti

(_Polynesian Researches_, 1832, vol. i, especially Chapters VI

and IX), while emphasizing their extreme cleanliness, every

person of every class bathing at least once or twice a day,

dwells on what he considers their unspeakable moral debasement;

"notwithstanding the apparent mildness of their disposition and

the cheerful vivacity of their conversation, no portion of the

human race was ever perhaps sunk lower in brutal licentiousness

and moral degradation."

After leaving Tahiti Cook went on to New Zealand. Here he found

that the people were more virtuous than at Tahiti, and also, he

found, less clean.

It is, however, a mistake to suppose that physical uncleanliness ruled

supreme through mediæval and later times. It is true that the eighteenth

century, which saw the birth of so much that marks our modern world,

witnessed a revival of the old ideal of bodily purity. But the struggle

between two opposing ideals had been carried on for a thousand years or

more before this. The Church, indeed, was in this matter founded on an

impregnable rock. But there never has been a time when influences outside

the Church have not found a shelter somewhere. Those traditions of the

classic world which Christianity threw aside as useless or worse quietly

reappeared. In no respect was this more notably the case than in regard to

the love of pure water and the cult of the bath. Islam adopted the

complete Roman bath, and made it an institution of daily life, a necessity

for all classes. Granada is the spot in Europe where to-day we find the

most exquisite remains of Mohammedan culture, and, though the fury of

Christian conquest dragged the harrow over the soil of Granada, even yet

streams and fountains spring up there and gush abundantly and one seldom

loses the sound of the plash of water. The flower of Christian chivalry

and Christian intelligence went to Palestine to wrest the Holy Sepulchre

from the hands of pagan Mohammedans. They found there many excellent

things which they had not gone out to seek, and the Crusaders produced a

kind of premature and abortive Renaissance, the shadow of lost classic

things reflected on Christian Europe from the mirror of Islam.

Yet it is worth while to point out, as bearing on the

associations of the bath here emphasized, that even in Islam we

may trace the existence of a religious attitude unfavorable to

the bath. Before the time of Mohammed there were no public baths

in Arabia, and it was and is believed that baths are specially

haunted by the djinn--the evil spirits. Mohammed himself was at

first so prejudiced against public baths that he forbade both men

and women to enter them. Afterward, however, he permitted men to

use them provided they wore a cloth round the loins, and women

also when they could not conveniently bathe at home. Among the

Prophet's sayings is found the assertion: "Whatever woman enters

a bath the devil is with her," and "All the earth is given to me

as a place of prayer, and as pure, except the burial ground and

the bath." (See, e.g., E.W. Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle

Ages_, 1883, pp. 179-183.) Although, therefore, the bath, or

_hammam_, on grounds of ritual ablution, hygiene, and enjoyment

speedily became universally popular in Islam among all classes

and both sexes, Mohammed himself may be said to have opposed it.

Among the discoveries which the Crusaders made and brought home with them

one of the most notable was that of the bath, which in its more elaborate

forms seems to have been absolutely forgotten in Europe, though Roman

baths might everywhere have been found underground. All authorities seem

to be agreed in finding here the origin of the revival of the public bath.

It is to Rome first, and later to Islam, the lineal inheritor of classic

culture, that we owe the cult of water and of physical purity. Even to-day

the Turkish bath, which is the most popular of elaborate methods of

bathing, recalls by its characteristics and its name the fact that it is a

Mohammedan survival of Roman life.

From the twelfth century onward baths have repeatedly been introduced from

the East, and reintroduced afresh in slightly modified forms, and have

flourished with varying degrees of success. In the thirteenth century they

were very common, especially in Paris, and though they were often used,

more especially in Germany, by both sexes in common, every effort was made

to keep them orderly and respectable. These efforts were, however, always

unsuccessful in the end. A bath always tended in the end to become a

brothel, and hence either became unfashionable or was suppressed by the

authorities. It is sufficient to refer to the reputation in England of

"hot-houses" and "bagnios." It was not until toward the end of the

eighteenth century that it began to be recognized that the claims of

physical cleanliness were sufficiently imperative to make it necessary

that the fairly avoidable risks to morality in bathing should be avoided

and the unavoidable risks bravely incurred. At the present day, now that

we are accustomed to weave ingeniously together in the texture of our

lives the conflicting traditions of classic and Christian days, we have

almost persuaded ourselves that the pagan virtue of cleanliness comes next

after godliness, and we bathe, forgetful of the great moral struggle which

once went on around the bath. But we refrain from building ourselves

palaces to bathe in, and for the most part we bathe with exceeding

moderation.[23] It is probable that we may best harmonize our conflicting

traditions by rejecting not only the Christian glorification of dirt, but

also, save for definitely therapeutic purposes, the excessive heat,

friction, and stimulation involved by the classic forms of bathing. Our

reasonable ideal should render it easy and natural for every man, woman,

and child to have a simple bath, tepid in winter, cold in summer, all the

year round.

For the history of the bath in mediæval times and later Europe,

see A. Franklin, _Les Soins de Toilette_, in the _Vie Privée

d'Autrefois_ series; Rudeck, _Geschichte der öffentlichen

Sittlichkeit in Deutschland_; T. Wright, _The Homes of Other

Days_; E. Dühren, _Das Geschlechtsleben in England_, bd. 1.

Outside the Church, there was a greater amount of cleanliness

than we are sometimes apt to suppose. It may, indeed, be said

that the uncleanliness of holy men and women would have attracted

no attention if it had corresponded to the condition generally

prevailing. Before public baths were established bathing in

private was certainly practiced; thus Ordericus Vitalis, in

narrating the murder of Mabel, the Countess de Montgomery, in

Normandy in 1082, casually mentions that she was lying on the bed

after her bath (_Ecclesiastical History_, Book V, Chapter XIII).

In warm weather, it would appear, mediæval ladies bathed in

streams, as we may still see countrywomen do in Russia, Bohemia,

and occasionally nearer home. The statement of the historian

Michelet, therefore, that Percival, Iseult, and the other

ethereal personages of mediæval times "certainly never washed"

(_La Sorcière_, p. 110) requires some qualification.

In 1292 there were twenty-six bathing establishments in Paris,

and an attendant would go through the streets in the morning

announcing that they were ready. One could have a vapor bath only

or a hot bath to succeed it, as in the East. No woman of bad

reputation, leper, or vagabond was at this time allowed to

frequent the baths, which were closed on Sundays and feast-days.

By the fourteenth century, however, the baths began to have a

reputation for immorality, as well as luxury, and, according to

Dufour, the baths of Paris "rivaled those of imperial Rome: love,

prostitution, and debauchery attracted the majority to the

bathing establishments, where everything was covered by a decent

veil." He adds that, notwithstanding the scandal thus caused and

the invectives of preachers, all went to the baths, young and

old, rich and poor, and he makes the statement, which seems to

echo the constant assertion of the early Fathers, that "a woman

who frequented the baths returned home physically pure only at

the expense of her moral purity."

In Germany there was even greater freedom of manners in bathing,

though, it would seem, less real licentiousness. Even the

smallest towns had their baths, which were frequented by all

classes. As soon as the horn blew to announce that the baths were

ready all hastened along the street, the poorer folk almost

completely undressing themselves before leaving their homes.

Bathing was nearly always in common without any garment being

worn, women attendants commonly rubbed and massaged both sexes,

and the dressing room was frequently used by men and women in

common; this led to obvious evils. The Germans, as Weinhold

points out (_Die Deutschen Frauen im Mittelalter_, 1882, bd. ii,

pp. 112 et seq.), have been fond of bathing in the open air in

streams from the days of Tacitus and Cæsar until comparatively

modern times, when the police have interfered. It was the same in

Switzerland. Poggio, early in the sixteenth century, found it the

custom for men and women to bathe together at Baden, and said

that he seemed to be assisting at the _floralia_ of ancient Rome,

or in Plato's Republic. Sénancour, who quotes the passage (_De

l'Amour_, 1834, vol. i, p. 313), remarks that at the beginning of

the nineteenth century there was still great liberty at the Baden

baths.

Of the thirteenth century in England Thomas Wright (_Homes of

Other Days_, 1871, p. 271) remarks: "The practice of warm bathing

prevailed very generally in all classes of society, and is

frequently alluded to in the mediæval romances and stories. For

this purpose a large bathing-tub was used. People sometimes

bathed immediately after rising in the morning, and we find the

bath used after dinner and before going to bed. A bath was also

often prepared for a visitor on his arrival from a journey; and,

what seems still more singular, in the numerous stories of

amorous intrigues the two lovers usually began their interviews

by bathing together."

In England the association between bathing and immorality was

established with special rapidity and thoroughness. Baths were

here officially recognized as brothels, and this as early as the

twelfth century, under Henry II. These organized bath-brothels

were confined to Southwark, outside the walls of the city, a

quarter which was also given up to various sports and amusements.

At a later period, "hot-houses," bagnios, and hummums (the

eastern _hammam_) were spread all over London and remained

closely identified with prostitution, these names, indeed,

constantly tending to become synonymous with brothels. (T.

Wright, _Homes of Other Days_, 1871, pp. 494-496, gives an

account of them.)

In France the baths, being anathematized by both Catholics and

Huguenots, began to lose vogue and disappear. "Morality gained,"

remarks Franklin, "but cleanliness lost." Even the charming and

elegant Margaret of Navarre found it quite natural for a lady to

mention incidentally to her lover that she had not washed her

hands for a week. Then began an extreme tendency to use

cosmetics, essences, perfumes, and a fierce war with vermin, up

to the seventeenth century, when some progress was made, and

persons who desired to be very elegant and refined were

recommended to wash their faces "nearly every day." Even in 1782,

however, while a linen cloth was advised for the purpose of

cleaning the face and hands, the use of water was still somewhat

discountenanced. The use of hot and cold baths was now, however,

beginning to be established in Paris and elsewhere, and the

bathing establishments at the great European health resorts were

also beginning to be put on the orderly footing which is now

customary. When Casanova, in the middle of the eighteenth

century, went to the public baths at Berne he was evidently

somewhat surprised when he found that he was invited to choose

his own attendant from a number of young women, and when he

realized that these attendants were, in all respects, at the

disposition of the bathers. It is evident that establishments of

this kind were then already dying out, although it may be added

that the customs described by Casanova appear to have persisted

in Budapest and St. Petersburg almost or quite up to the present.

The great European public baths have long been above suspicion in

this respect (though homosexual practices are not quite

excluded), while it is well recognized that many kinds of hot

baths now in use produce a powerfully stimulating action upon the

sexual system, and patients taking such baths for medical

purposes are frequently warned against giving way to these

influences.

The struggle which in former ages went on around bathing

establishments has now been in part transferred to massage

establishments. Massage is an equally powerful stimulant to the

skin and the sexual sphere,--acting mainly by friction instead of

mainly by heat,--and it has not yet attained that position of

general recognition and popularity which, in the case of bathing

establishments, renders it bad policy to court disrepute.

Like bathing, massage is a hygienic and therapeutic method of

influencing the skin and subjacent tissues which, together with

its advantages, has certain concomitant disadvantages in its

liability to affect the sexual sphere. This influence is apt to

be experienced by individuals of both sexes, though it is perhaps

specially marked in women. Jouin (quoted in Paris _Journal de

Médecine_, April 23, 1893) found that of 20 women treated by

massage, of whom he made inquiries, 14 declared that they

experienced voluptuous sensations; 8 of these belonged to

respectable families; the other 6 were women of the _demimonde_

and gave precise details; Jouin refers in this connection to the

_aliptes_ of Rome. It is unnecessary to add that the

gynæcological massage introduced in recent years by the Swedish

teacher of gymnastics, Thure-Brandt, as involving prolonged

rubbing and kneading of the pelvic regions, "_pression glissante

du vagin_" etc. (_Massage Gynécologique_, by G. de Frumerie,

1897), whatever its therapeutic value, cannot fail in a large

proportion of cases to stimulate the sexual emotions. (Eulenburg

remarks that for sexual anæsthesia in women the Thure-Brandt

system of massage may "naturally" be recommended, _Sexuale

Neuropathie_, p. 78.) I have been informed that in London and

elsewhere massage establishments are sometimes visited by women

who seek sexual gratification by massage of the genital regions

by the _masseuse_.

FOOTNOTES:

[21] "_Dicens munditiam corporis atque vestitus animæ esse

immunditiam_"--St. Jerome, _Ad Eustochium Virginem_.

[22] With regard to the physiological mechanism by which bathing produces

its tonic and stimulating effects Woods Hutchinson has an interesting

discussion (Chapter VII) in his _Studies in Human and Comparative

Pathology_.

[23] Thus among the young women admitted to the Chicago Normal School to

be trained as teachers, Miss Lura Sanborn, the director of physical

training, states (_Doctor's Magazine_, December, 1900) that a bath once a

fortnight is found to be not unusual.

V.

Summary--Fundamental Importance of Touch--The Skin the Mother of All the

Other Senses.

The sense of touch is so universally diffused over the whole skin, and in

so many various degrees and modifications, and it is, moreover, so truly

the Alpha and the Omega of affection, that a broken and fragmentary

treatment of the subject has been inevitable.

The skin is the archæological field of human and prehuman experience, the

foundation on which all forms of sensory perception have grown up, and as

sexual sensibility is among the most ancient of all forms of sensibility,

the sexual instinct is necessarily, in the main, a comparatively slightly

modified form of general touch sensibility. This primitive character of

the great region of tactile sensation, its vagueness and diffusion, the

comparatively unintellectual as well as unæsthetic nature of the mental

conceptions which arise on the tactile basis make it difficult to deal

precisely with the psychology of touch. The very same qualities, however,

serve greatly to heighten the emotional intensity of skin sensations. So

that, of all the great sensory fields, the field of touch is at once the

least intellectual and the most massively emotional. These qualities, as

well as its intimate and primitive association with the apparatus of

tumescence and detumescence, make touch the readiest and most powerful

channel by which the sexual sphere may be reached.

In disentangling the phenomena of tactile sensibility ticklishness has

been selected for special consideration as a kind of sensation, founded on

reflexes developing even before birth, which is very closely related to

sexual phenomena. It is, as it were, a play of tumescence, on which

laughter supervenes as a play of detumescence. It leads on to the more

serious phenomena of tumescence, and it tends to die out after

adolescence, at the period during which sexual relationships normally

begin. Such a view of ticklishness, as a kind of modesty of the skin,

existing merely to be destroyed, need only be regarded as one of its

aspects. Ticklishness certainly arose from a non-sexual starting-point,

and may well have protective uses in the young animal.

The readiness with which tactile sensibility takes on a sexual character

and forms reflex channels of communication with the sexual sphere proper

is illustrated by the existence of certain secondary sexual foci only

inferior in sexual excitability to the genital region. We have seen that

the chief of these normal foci are situated in the orificial regions where

skin and mucous membrane meet, and that the contact of any two orificial

regions between two persons of different sex brought together under

favorable conditions is apt, when prolonged, to produce a very intense

degree of sexual erethism. This is a normal phenomenon in so far as it is

a part of tumescence, and not a method of obtaining detumescence. The kiss

is a typical example of these contacts, while the nipple is of special

interest in this connection, because we are thereby enabled to bring the

psychology of lactation into intimate relationship with the psychology of

sexual love.

The extreme sensitiveness of the skin, the readiness with which its

stimulation reverberates into the sexual sphere, clearly brought out by

the present study, enable us to understand better a very ancient

contest--the moral struggle around the bath. There has always been a

tendency for the extreme cultivation of physical purity to lead on to the

excessive stimulation of the sexual sphere; so that the Christian ascetics

were entirely justified, on their premises, in fighting against the bath

and in directly or indirectly fostering a cult of physical uncleanliness.

While, however, in the past there has clearly been a general tendency for

the cult of physical purity to be associated with moral licentiousness,

and there are sufficient grounds for such an association, it is important

to remember that it is not an inevitable and fatal association; a

scrupulously clean person is by no means necessarily impelled to

licentiousness; a physically unclean person is by no means necessarily

morally pure. When we have eliminated certain forms of the bath which must

be regarded as luxuries rather than hygienic necessities, though they

occasionally possess therapeutic virtues, we have eliminated the most

violent appeals of the bath to the sexual impulse. So imperative are the

demands of physical purity now becoming, in general opinion, that such

small risks to moral purity as may still remain are constantly and wisely

disregarded, and the immoral traditions of the bath now, for the most

part, belong to the past.

SMELL.

I.

The Primitiveness of Smell--The Anatomical Seat of the Olfactory

Centres--Predominance of Smell among the Lower Mammals--Its Diminished

Importance in Man--The Attention Paid to Odors by Savages.

The first more highly organized sense to arise on the diffused tactile

sensitivity of the skin is, in most cases, without doubt that of smell. At

first, indeed, olfactory sensibility is not clearly differentiated from

general tactile sensibility; the pit of thickened and ciliated epithelium

or the highly mobile antennæ which in many lower animals are sensitive to

odorous stimuli are also extremely sensitive to tactile stimuli; this is,

for instance, the case with the snail, in whom at the same time olfactive

sensibility seems to be spread over the whole body.[24] The sense of smell

is gradually specialized, and when taste also begins to develop a kind of

chemical sense is constituted. The organ of smell, however, speedily

begins to rise in importance as we ascend the zoölogical scale. In the

lower vertebrates, when they began to adopt a life on dry land, the sense

of smell seems to have been that part of their sensory equipment which

proved most useful under the new conditions, and it developed with

astonishing rapidity. Edinger finds that in the brain of reptiles the

"area olfactoria" is of enormous extent, covering, indeed, the greater

part of the cortex, though it may be quite true, as Herrick remarks, that,

while smell is preponderant, it is perhaps not correct to attribute an

exclusively olfactory tone to the cerebral activities of the _Sauropsida_

or even the _Ichthyopsida_. Among most mammals, however, in any case,

smell is certainly the most highly developed of the senses; it gives the

first information of remote objects that concern them; it gives the most

precise information concerning the near objects that concern them; it is

the sense in terms of which most of their mental operations must be

conducted and their emotional impulses reach consciousness. Among the apes

it has greatly lost importance and in man it has become almost

rudimentary, giving place to the supremacy of vision.

Prof. G. Elliot Smith, a leading authority on the brain, has well

summarized the facts concerning the predominance of the olfactory

region in the mammal brain, and his conclusions may be quoted. It

should be premised that Elliot Smith divides the brain into

rhinencephalon and neopallium. Rhinencephalon designates the

regions which are pre-eminently olfactory in function: the

olfactory bulb, its peduncle, the tuberculum olfactorium and

locus perforatus, the pyriform lobe, the paraterminal body, and

the whole hippocampal formation. The neopallium is the dorsal cap

of the brain, with frontal, parietal, and occipital areas,

comprehending all that part of the brain which is the seat of the

higher associative activities, reaching its fullest development

in man.

"In the early mammals the olfactory areas form by far the greater

part of the cerebral hemisphere, which is not surprising when it

is recalled that the forebrain is, in the primitive brain,

essentially an appendage, so to speak, of the smell apparatus.

When the cerebral hemisphere comes to occupy such a dominant

position in the brain it is perhaps not unnatural to find that

the sense of smell is the most influential and the chief source

of information to the animal; or, perhaps, it would be more

accurate to say that the olfactory sense, which conveys general

information to the animal such as no other sense can bring

concerning its prey (whether near or far, hidden or exposed), is

much the most serviceable of all the avenues of information to

the lowly mammal leading a terrestrial life, and therefore

becomes predominant; and its particular domain--the

forebrain--becomes the ruling portion of the nervous system.

"This early predominance of the sense of smell persists in most

mammals (unless an aquatic mode of life interferes and deposes

it: compare the _Cetacea, Sirenia_, and _Pinnipedia_, for

example) even though a large neopallium develops to receive

visual, auditory, tactile, and other impressions pouring into the

forebrain. In the _Anthropoidea_ alone of nonaquatic mammals the

olfactory regions undergo an absolute (and not only relative, as

in the _Carnivora_ and _Ungulata_) dwindling, which is equally

shared by the human brain, in common with those of the other

_Simiidæ_, the _Cercopithecidæ_, and the _Cebidæ_. But all the

parts of the rhinencephalon, which are so distinct in macrosmatic

mammals, can also be recognized in the human brain. The small

ellipsoidal olfactory bulb is moored, so to speak, on the

cribriform plate of the ethmoid bone by the olfactory nerves; so

that, as the place of attachment of the olfactory peduncle to the

expanding cerebral hemisphere becomes removed (as a result of the

forward extension of the hemisphere) progressively farther and

farther backward, the peduncle becomes greatly stretched and

elongated. And, as this stretching involves the gray matter

without lessening the number of nerve-fibres in the olfactory

tract, the peduncle becomes practically what it is usually

called--i.e., the olfactory 'tract.' The tuberculum olfactorium

becomes greatly reduced and at the same time flattened; so that

it is not easy to draw a line of demarcation between it and the

anterior perforated space. The anterior rhinal fissure, which is

present in the early human foetus, vanishes (almost, if not

altogether) in the adult. Part of the posterior rhinal fissure is

always present in the 'incisura temporalis,' and sometimes,

especially in some of the non-European races, the whole of the

posterior rhinal fissure is retained in that typical form which

we find in the anthropoid apes." (G. Elliot Smith, in

_Descriptive and Illustrated Catalogue of the Physiological

Series of Comparative Anatomy Contained in the Museum of the

Royal College of Surgeons of England_, second edition, vol. ii.)

A full statement of Elliot Smith's investigations, with diagrams,

is given by Bullen, _Journal of Mental Science_, July, 1899. It

may be added that the whole subject of the olfactory centres has

been thoroughly studied by Elliot Smith, as well as by Edinger,

Mayer, and C.L. Herrick. In the _Journal of Comparative

Neurology_, edited by the last named, numerous discussions and

summaries bearing on the subject will be found from 1896 onward.

Regarding the primitive sense-organs of smell in the various

invertebrate groups some information will be found in A.B.

Griffiths's _Physiology of the Invertebrata_, Chapter XI.

The predominance of the olfactory area in the nervous system of the

vertebrates generally has inevitably involved intimate psychic

associations between olfactory stimuli and the sexual impulse. For most

mammals not only are all sexual associations mainly olfactory, but the

impressions received by this sense suffice to dominate all others. An

animal not only receives adequate sexual excitement from olfactory

stimuli, but those stimuli often suffice to counterbalance all the

evidence of the other senses.

We may observe this very well in the case of the dog. Thus, a

young dog, well known to me, who had never had connection with a

bitch, but was always in the society of its father, once met the

latter directly after the elder dog had been with a bitch. He

immediately endeavored to behave toward the elder dog, in spite

of angry repulses, exactly as a dog behaves toward a bitch in

heat. The messages received by the sense of smell were

sufficiently urgent not only to set the sexual mechanism in

action, but to overcome the experiences of a lifetime. There is

an interesting chapter on the sense of smell in the mental life

of the dog in Giessler's _Psychologie des Geruches_, 1894,

Chapter XI, Passy (in the appendix to his memoir on olfaction,

_L'Année Psychologique_, 1895) gives the result of some

interesting experiments as to the effects of perfume on dogs;

civet and castoreum were found to have the most powerfully

exciting effect.

The influences of smell are equally omnipotent in the sexual life

of many insects. Thus, Féré has found that in cockchafers sexual

coupling failed to take place when the antennæ, which are the

organs of smell, were removed; he also found that males, after

they had coupled with females, proved sexually attractive to

other males (_Comptes Rendus de la Société de Biologie_, May 21,

1898). Féré similarly found that, in a species of _Bombyx_, males

after contact with females sometimes proved attractive to other

males, although no abnormal relationships followed. (_Soc. de

Biol_, July 30, 1898.)

With the advent of the higher apes, and especially of man, all this has

been changed. The sense of smell, indeed, still persists universally and

it is still also exceedingly delicate, though often neglected.[25] It is,

moreover, a useful auxiliary in the exploration of the external world,

for, in contrast to the very few sensations furnished to us by touch and

by taste, we are acquainted with a vast number of smells, though the

information they give us is frequently vague. An experienced perfumer,

says Piesse, will have two hundred odors in his laboratory and can

distinguish them all. To a sensitive nose nearly everything smells. Passy

goes so far as to state that he has "never met with any object that is

really inodorous when one pays attention to it, not even excepting glass,"

and, though we can scarcely accept this statement absolutely,--especially

in view of the careful experiments of Ayrton, which show that, contrary

to a common belief, metals when perfectly clean and free from traces of

contact with the skin or with salt solutions have no smell,--odor is still

extremely widely diffused. This is especially the case in hot countries,

and the experiments of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition on the

sense of smell of the Papuans were considerably impeded by the fact that

at Torres Straits everything, even water, seemed to have a smell. Savages

are often accused more or less justly of indifference to bad odors. They

are very often, however, keenly alive to the significance of smells and

their varieties, though it does not appear that the sense of smell is

notably more developed in savage than in civilized peoples. Odors also

continue to play a part in the emotional life of man, more especially in

hot countries. Nevertheless both in practical life and in emotional life,

in science and in art, smell is, at the best, under normal conditions,

merely an auxiliary. If the sense of smell were abolished altogether the

life of mankind would continue as before, with little or no sensible

modification, though the pleasures of life, and especially of eating and

drinking, would be to some extent diminished.

In New Ireland, Duffield remarks (_Journal of the Anthropological

Institute_, 1886, p. 118), the natives have a very keen sense of

smell; unusual odors are repulsive to them, and "carbolic acid

drove them wild."

The New Caledonians, according to Foley (_Bulletin de la Société

d'Anthropologie_, November 6, 1879), only like the smells of meat

and fish which are becoming "high," like _popoya_, which smells

of fowl manure, and _kava_, of rotten eggs. Fruits and vegetables

which are beginning to go bad seem the best to them, while the

fresh and natural odors which we prefer seem merely to say to

them: "We are not yet eatable." (A taste for putrefying food,

common among savages, by no means necessarily involves a distaste

for agreeable scents, and even among Europeans there is a

widespread taste for offensively smelling and putrid foods,

especially cheese and game.)

The natives of Torres Straits were carefully examined by Dr. C.S.

Myers with regard to their olfactory acuteness and olfactory

preferences. It was found that acuteness was, if anything,

slightly greater than among Europeans. This appeared to be

largely due to the careful attention they pay to odors. The

resemblances which they detected among different odorous

substances were frequently found to rest on real chemical

affinities. The odors they were observed to dislike most

frequently were asafoetida, valerianic acid, and civet, the last

being regarded as most repulsive of all on account of its

resemblance to fæcal odor, which these people regard with intense

disgust. Their favorite odors were musk, thyme, and especially

violet. (_Report of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to

Torres Straits_, vol. ii, Part II, 1903.)

In Australia Lumholtz (_Among Cannibals_, p. 115) found that the

blacks had a keener sense of smell than he possessed.

In New Zealand the Maoris, as W. Colenso shows, possessed,

formerly at all events, a very keen sense of smell or else were

very attentive to smell, and their taste as regarded agreeable

and disagreeable odors corresponded very closely to European

taste, although it must be added that some of their common

articles of food possessed a very offensive odor. They are not

only sensitive to European perfumes, but possessed various

perfumes of their own, derived from plants and possessing a

pleasant, powerful, and lasting odor; the choicest and rarest was

the gum of the _taramea_ (_Aciphylla Colensoi_), which was

gathered by virgins after the use of prayers and charms. Sir

Joseph Banks noted that Maori chiefs wore little bundles of

perfumes around their necks, and Cook made the same observation

concerning the young women. References to the four chief Maori

perfumes are contained in a stanza which is still often hummed to

express satisfaction, and sung by a mother to her child:--

"My little neck-satchel of sweet-scented moss,

My little neck-satchel of fragrant fern,

My little neck-satchel of odoriferous gum,

My sweet-smelling neck-locket of sharp-pointed _taramea_."

In the summer season the sleeping houses of Maori chiefs were

often strewed with a large, sweet-scented, flowering grass of

powerful odor. (W. Colenso, _Transactions of the New Zealand

Institute_, vol. xxiv, reprinted in _Nature_, November 10, 1892.)

Javanese women rub themselves with a mixture of chalk and strong

essence which, when rubbed off, leaves a distinct perfume on the

body. (Stratz, _Die Frauenkleidung_, p. 84.)

The Samoans, Friedländer states (_Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_,

1899, p. 52), are very fond of fragrant and aromatic odors. He

gives a list of some twenty odorous plants which they use, more

especially as garlands for the head and neck, including

ylang-ylang and gardenia; he remarks that of one of these plants

(cordyline) he could not himself detect the odor.

The Nicobarese, Man remarks (_Journal of the Anthropological

Institute_, 1889, p. 377), like the natives of New Zealand,

particularly dislike the smell of carbolic acid. Both young men

and women are very partial to scents; the former say they find

their use a certain passport to the favor of their wives, and

they bring home from the jungle the scented leaves of a certain

creeper to their sweethearts and wives.

Swahili women devote much attention to perfuming themselves. When

a woman wishes to make herself desirable she anoints herself all

over with fragrant ointments, sprinkles herself with rose-water,

puts perfume into her clothes, strews jasmine flowers on her bed

as well as binding them round her neck and waist, and smokes

_ûdi_, the perfumed wood of the aloe; "every man is glad when his

wife smells of _ûdi_" (Velten, _Sitten und Gebraüche der

Suaheli_, pp. 212-214).

FOOTNOTES:

[24] Emile Yung, "Le Sens Olfactif de l'Escargot (Helix Pomata),"

_Archives de Psychologie_, November, 1903.

[25] The sensitiveness of smell in man generally exceeds that of chemical

reaction or even of spectral analysis; see Passy, _L'Année Psychologique_,

second year, 1895, p. 380.

II.

Rise of the Study of Olfaction--Cloquet--Zwaardemaker--The Theory of

Smell--The Classification of Odors--The Special Characteristics of

Olfactory Sensation in Man--Smell as the Sense of Imagination--Odors as

Nervous Stimulants--Vasomotor and Muscular Effects--Odorous Substances as

Drugs.

During the eighteenth century a great impetus was given to the

physiological and psychological study of the senses by the philosophical

doctrines of Locke and the English school generally which then prevailed

in Europe. These thinkers had emphasized the immense importance of the

information derived through the senses in building up the intellect, so

that the study of all the sensory channels assumed a significance which it

had never possessed before. The olfactory sense fully shared in the

impetus thus given to sensory investigation. At the beginning of the

nineteenth century a distinguished French physician, Hippolyte Cloquet, a

disciple of Cabanis, devoted himself more especially to this subject.

After publishing in 1815 a preliminary work, he issued in 1821 his

_Osphrésiologie, ou Traité des odeurs, du sens et des organes de

l'Olfaction_, a complete monograph on the anatomy, physiology, psychology,

and pathology of the olfactory organ and its functions, and a work that

may still be consulted with profit, if indeed it can even yet be said to

be at every point superseded. After Cloquet's time the study of the sense

of smell seems to have fallen into some degree of discredit. For more than

half a century no important progress was made in this field. Serious

investigators seemed to have become shy of the primitive senses generally,

and the subject of smell was mainly left to those interested in "curious"

subjects. Many interesting observations were, however, incidentally made;

thus Laycock, who was a pioneer in so many by-paths of psychology and

anthropology, showed a special interest in the olfactory sense, and

frequently touched on it in his _Nervous Diseases of Women_ and

elsewhere. The writer who more than any other has in recent years restored

the study of the sense of smell from a by-path to its proper position as a

highway for investigation is without doubt Professor Zwaardemaker, of

Utrecht. The invention of his first olfactometer in 1888 and the

appearance in 1895 of his great work _Die Physiologie des Geruchs_ have

served to give the physiology of the sense of smell an assured status and

to open the way anew for much fruitful investigation, while a number of

inquirers in many countries have had their attention directed to the

elucidation of this sense.

Notwithstanding, however, the amount of work which has been done in this

field during recent years, it cannot be said that the body of assured

conclusions so far reached is large. The most fundamental principles of

olfactory physiology and psychology are still somewhat vague and

uncertain. Although sensations of smell are numerous and varied, in this

respect approaching the sensations of vision and hearing, smell still

remains close to touch in the vagueness of its messages (while the most

sensitive of the senses, remarks Passy, it is the least precise), the

difficulty of classifying them, the impossibility of so controlling them

as to found upon them any art. It seems better, therefore, not to attempt

to force the present study of a special aspect of olfaction into any

general scheme which may possibly not be really valid.

The earliest and most general tendency in regard to the theory of

smell was to regard it as a kind of chemical sense directly

stimulated by minute particles of solid substance. A vibratory

theory of smell, however, making it somewhat analogous to

hearing, easily presents itself. When I first began the study of

physiology in 1881, a speculation of this kind presented itself

to my mind. Long before Philipp von Walther, a professor at

Landshut, had put forward a dynamic theory of olfaction

(_Physiologie des Menschen_, 1807-8, vol. ii, p. 278). "It is a

purely dynamic operation of the odorous substance in the

olfactory organ," he stated. Odor is conveyed by the air, he

believed, in the same way as heat. It must be added that his

reasons for this theory will not always bear examination. More

recently a similar theory has been seriously put forward in

various quarters. Sir William Ramsay tentatively suggested such a

theory (_Nature_, vol. xxv, p. 187) in analogy with light and

sound. Haycraft (_Proceedings of the Royal Society of Edinburgh_,

1883-87, and _Brain_, 1887-88), largely starting from

Mendelieff's law of periodicity, similarly sought to bring smell

into line with the higher senses, arguing that molecules with the

same vibration have the same smell. Rutherford (_Nature_, August

11, 1892, p. 343), attaching importance to the evidence brought

forward by von Brunn showing that the olfactory cells terminate

in very delicate short hairs, also stated his belief that the

different qualities of smell result from differences in the

frequency and form of the vibrations initiated by the action of

the chemical molecules on these olfactory cells, though he

admitted that such a conception involved a very subtle conception

of molecular vibration. Vaschide and Van Melle (Paris Academy of

Sciences, December 26, 1899) have, again, argued that smell is

produced by rays of short wave-lengths, analogous to light-rays,

Röntgen rays, etc. Chemical action is however, a very important

factor in the production of odors; this has been well shown by

Ayrton (_Nature_, September 8, 1898). We seem to be forced in the

direction of a chemico-vibratory theory, as pointed out by

Southerden (_Nature_, March 26, 1903), the olfactory cells being

directly stimulated, not by the ordinary vibrations of the

molecules, but by the agitations accompanying chemical changes.

The vibratory hypothesis of the action of odors has had some

influence on the recent physiologists who have chiefly occupied

themselves with olfaction. "It is probable," Zwaardemaker writes

(_L'Année Psychologique_, 1898), "that aroma is a

physico-chemical attribute of the molecules"; he points out that

there is an intimate analogy between color and odor, and remarks

that this analogy leads us to suppose in an aroma ether

vibrations of which the period is determined by the structure of

the molecule.

Since the physiology of olfaction is yet so obscure it is not

surprising that we have no thoroughly scientific classification

of smells, notwithstanding various ambitious attempts to reach a

classification. The classification adopted by Zwaardemaker is

founded on the ancient scheme of Linnæus, and may here be

reproduced:--

I. Ethereal odors (chiefly esters; Rimmel's fruity series).

II. Aromatic odors (terpenes, camphors, and the spicy,

herbaceous, rosaceous, and almond series; the chemical types are

well determined: cineol, eugenol, anethol, geraniol,

benzaldehyde).

III. The balsamic odors (chiefly aldehydes, Rimmel's jasmin,

violet, and balsamic series, with the chemical types: terpineol,

ionone, vanillin).

IV. The ambrosiacal odors (ambergris and musk).

V. The alliaceous odors, with the cacodylic group (asafoetida,

ichthyol, etc.).

VI. Empyreumatic odors.

VII. Valerianaceous odors (Linnæus's _Odores hircini_, the capryl

group, largely composed of sexual odors).

VIII. Narcotic odors (Linnæus's _Odores tetri_).

IX. Stenches.

A valuable and interesting memoir, "Revue Générale sur les

Sensations Olfactives," by J. Passy, the chief French authority

on this subject, will be found in the second volume of _L'Année

Psychologique_, 1895. In the fifth issue of the same year-book

(for 1898) Zwaardemaker presents a full summary of his work and

views, "Les Sensations Olfactives, leurs Combinaisons et leurs

Compensations." A convenient, but less authoritative, summary of

the facts of normal and pathological olfaction will be found in a

little volume of the "Actualités Médicales" series by Dr. Collet,

_L'Odorat et ses Troubles_, 1904. In a little book entitled

_Wegweiser zu einer Psychologie des Geruches_ (1894) Giessler has

sought to outline a psychology of smell, but his sketch can only

be regarded as tentative and provisional.

At the outset, nevertheless, it seems desirable that we should at least

have some conception of the special characteristics which mark the great

and varied mass of sensations reaching the brain through the channel of

the olfactory organ. The main special character of olfactory images seems

to be conditioned by the fact that they are intermediate in character

between those of touch or taste and those of sight or sound, that they

have much of the vagueness of the first and something of the richness and

variety of the second. Æsthetically, also, they occupy an intermediate

position between the higher and the lower senses.[26] They are, at the

same time, less practically useful than either the lower or the higher

senses. They furnish us with a great mass of what we may call

by-sensations, which are of little practical use, but inevitably become

intimately mixed with the experiences of life by association and thus

acquire an emotional significance which is often very considerable. Their

emotional force, it may well be, is connected with the fact that their

anatomical seat is the most ancient part of the brain. They lie in a

remote almost disused storehouse of our minds and show the fascination or

the repulsiveness of all vague and remote things. It is for this reason

that they are--to an extent that is remarkable when we consider that they

are much more precise than touch sensations--subject to the influence of

emotional associations. The very same odor may be at one moment highly

pleasant, at the next moment highly unpleasant, in accordance with the

emotional attitude resulting from its associations. Visual images have no

such extreme flexibility; they are too definite to be so easily

influenced. Our feelings about the beauty of a flower cannot oscillate so

easily or so far as may our feelings about the agreeableness of its odor.

Our olfactory experiences thus institute a more or less continuous series

of by-sensations accompanying us through life, of no great practical

significance, but of considerable emotional significance from their

variety, their intimacy, their associational facility, their remote

ancestral reverberations through our brains.

It is the existence of these characteristics--at once so vague and so

specific, so useless and so intimate--which led various writers to

describe the sense of smell as, above all others, the sense of

imagination. No sense has so strong a power of suggestion, the power of

calling up ancient memories with a wider and deeper emotional

reverberation, while at the same time no sense furnishes impressions which

so easily change emotional color and tone, in harmony with the recipient's

general attitude. Odors are thus specially apt both to control the

emotional life and to become its slaves. With the use of incense religions

have utilized the imaginative and symbolical virtues of fragrance. All the

legends of the saints have insisted on the odor of sanctity that exhales

from the bodies of holy persons, especially at the moment of death. Under

the conditions of civilization these primitive emotional associations of

odor tend to be dispersed, but, on the other hand, the imaginative side of

the olfactory sense becomes accentuated, and personal idiosyncrasies of

all kinds tend to manifest themselves in the sphere of smell.

Rousseau (in _Emile_, Bk. II) regarded smell as the sense of the

imagination. So, also, at an earlier period, it was termed

(according to Cloquet) by Cardano. Cloquet frequently insisted on

the qualities of odors which cause them to appeal to the

imagination; on their irregular and inconstant character; on

their power of intoxicating the mind on some occasions; on the

curious individual and racial preferences in the matter of odors.

He remarked on the fact that the Persians employed asafoetida as

a seasoning, while valerian was accounted a perfume in antiquity.

(Cloquet, _Osphrésiologie_, pp. 28, 45, 71, 112.) It may be

added, as a curious example familiar to most people of the

dependence of the emotional tone of a smell on its associations,

that, while the exhalations of other people's bodies are

ordinarily disagreeable to us, such is not the case with our own;

this is expressed in the crude and vigorous dictum of the

Elizabethan poet, Marston, "Every man's dung smell sweet i' his

own nose." There are doubtless many implications, moral as well

as psychological, in that statement.

The modern authorities on olfaction, Passy and Zwaardemaker, both

alike insist on the same characteristics of the sense of smell:

its extreme acuity and yet its vagueness. "We live in a world of

odor," Zwaardemaker remarks (_L'Année Psychologique_, 1898, p.

203), "as we live in a world of light and of sound. But smell

yields us no distinct ideas grouped in regular order, still less

that are fixed in the memory as a grammatical discipline.

Olfactory sensations awake vague and half-understood perceptions,

which are accompanied by very strong emotion. The emotion

dominates us, but the sensation which was the cause of it remains

unperceived." Even in the same individual there are wide

variations in the sensitiveness to odors at different times, more

especially as regards faint odors; Passy (_L'Année

Psychologique_, 1895, p. 387) brings forward some observations on

this point.

Maudsley noted the peculiarly suggestive power of odors; "there

are certain smells," he remarked, "which never fail to bring back

to me instantly and visibly scenes of my boyhood"; many of us

could probably say the same. Another writer (E. Dillon, "A

Neglected Sense," _Nineteenth Century_, April, 1894) remarks that

"no sense has a stronger power of suggestion."

Ribot has made an interesting investigation as to the prevalence

and nature of the emotional memory of odors (_Psychology of the

Emotions_, Chapter XI). By "emotional memory" is meant the

spontaneous or voluntary revivability of the image, olfactory or

other. (For the general question, see an article by F. Pillon,

"La Mémoire Affective, son Importance Théorique et Pratique,"

_Revue Philosophique_, February, 1901; also Paulhan, "Sur la

Mémoire Affective," _Revue Philosophique_, December, 1902 and

January, 1903.) Ribot found that 40 per cent. of persons are

unable to revive any such images of taste or smell; 48 per cent,

could revive some; 12 per cent, declared themselves capable of

reviving all, or nearly all, at pleasure. In some persons there

is no necessary accompanying revival of visual or tactile

representations, but in the majority the revived odor ultimately

excites a corresponding visual image. The odors most frequently

recalled were pinks, musk, violets, heliotrope, carbolic acid,

the smell of the country, of grass, etc. Piéron (_Revue

Philosophique_, December, 1902) has described the special power

possessed by vague odors, in his own case, of evoking ancient

impressions.

Dr. J.N. Mackenzie (_American Journal of the Medical Sciences_,

January, 1886) considers that civilization exerts an influence in

heightening or encouraging the influence of olfaction as it

affects our emotions and judgment, and that, in the same way, as

we ascend the social scale the more readily our minds are

influenced and perhaps perverted by impressions received through

the sense of smell.

Odors are powerful stimulants to the whole nervous system, causing, like

other stimulants, an increase of energy which, if excessive or prolonged,

leads to nervous exhaustion. Thus, it is well recognized in medicine that

the aromatics containing volatile oils (such as anise, cinnamon,

cardamoms, cloves, coriander, and peppermint) are antispasmodics and

anæsthetics, and that they stimulate digestion, circulation, and the

nervous system, in large doses producing depression. The carefully

arranged plethysmographic experiments of Shields, at the Johns Hopkins

University, have shown that olfactory sensations, by their action on the

vasomotor system, cause an increase of blood in the brain and sometimes in

addition stimulation of the heart; musk, wintergreen, wood violet, and

especially heliotrope were found to act strongly in these ways.[27]

Féré's experiments with the dynamometer and the ergograph have greatly

contributed to illustrate the stimulating effects of odors. Thus, he found

that smelling musk suffices to double muscular effort. With a number of

odorous substances he has found that muscular work is temporarily

heightened; when taste stimulation was added the increase of energy,

notably when using lemon was "colossal." A kind of "sensorial

intoxication" could be produced by the inhalation of odors and the whole

system stimulated to greater activity; the visual acuity was increased,

and electric and general excitability heightened.[28] Such effects may be

obtained in perfectly healthy persons, though both Shields and Féré have

found that in highly nervous persons the effects are liable to be much

greater. It is doubtless on this account that it is among civilized

peoples that attention is chiefly directed to perfumes, and that under the

conditions of modern life the interest in olfaction and its study has been

revived.

It is the genuinely stimulant qualities of odorous substances which led to

the widespread use of the more potent among them by ancient physicians,

and has led a few modern physicians to employ them still. Thus, vanilla,

according to Eloy, deserves to be much more frequently used

therapeutically than it is, on account of its excitomotor properties; he

states that its qualities as an excitant of sexual desire have long been

recognized and that Fonssagrives used to prescribe it for sexual

frigidity.[29]

FOOTNOTES:

[26] The opinions of psychologists concerning the æsthetic significance of

smell, not on the whole very favorable, are brought together and discussed

by J.V. Volkelt, "Der Æsthetische Wert der niederen Sinne," _Zeitschrift

für Psychologie und Physiologie der Sinnesorgane_, 1902, ht. 3.

[27] T.E. Shields, "The Effect of Odors, etc., upon the Blood-flow,"

_Journal of Experimental Medicine_, vol. i, November, 1896. In France, O.

Henry and Tardif have made somewhat similar experiments on respiration and

circulation. See the latter's _Les Odeurs et les Parfums_, Chapter III.

[28] Féré, _Sensation et Mouvement_, Chapter VI; ib., _Comptes Rendus de

la Société de Biologie_, November 3, December 15 and 22, 1900.

[29] Eloy, art. "Vanille," _Dictionnaire Encyclopédique des Sciences

Médicales_.

III.

The Specific Body Odors of Various Peoples--The Negro, etc.--The

European--The Ability to Distinguish Individuals by Smell--The Odor of

Sanctity--The Odor of Death--The Odors of Different Parts of the Body--The

Appearance of Specific Odors at Puberty--The Odors of Sexual

Excitement--The Odors of Menstruation--Body Odors as a Secondary Sexual

Character--The Custom of Salutation by Smell--The Kiss--Sexual Selection

by Smell--The Alleged Association between Size of Nose and Sexual

Vigor--The Probably Intimate Relationship between the Olfactory and

Genital Spheres--Reflex Influences from the Nose--Reflex Influences from

the Genital Sphere--Olfactory Hallucinations in Insanity as Related to

Sexual States--The Olfactive Type--The Sense of Smell in Neurasthenic and

Allied States--In Certain Poets and Novelists--Olfactory Fetichism--The

Part Played by Olfaction in Normal Sexual Attraction--In the East,

etc.--In Modern Europe--The Odor of the Armpit and its Variations--As a

Sexual and General Stimulant--Body Odors in Civilization Tend to Cause

Sexual Antipathy unless some Degree of Tumescence is Already Present--The

Question whether Men or Women are more Liable to Feel Olfactory

Influences--Women Usually more Attentive to Odors--The Special Interest in

Odors Felt by Sexual Inverts.

In approaching the specifically sexual aspect of odor in the human species

we may start from the fundamental fact--a fact we seek so far as possible

to disguise in our ordinary social relations--that all men and women are

odorous. This is marked among all races. The powerful odor of many, though

not all, negroes is well known; it is by no means due to uncleanly habits,

and Joest remarks that it is even increased by cleanliness, which opens

the pores of the skin; according to Sir H. Johnston, it is most marked in

the armpits and is stronger in men than in women. Pruner Bey describes it

as "ammoniacal and rancid; it is like the odor of the he-goat." The odor

varies not only individually, but according to the tribe; Castellani

states that the negress of the Congo has merely a slight "_goût de

noisette_" which is agreeable rather than otherwise. Monbuttu women,

according to Parke, have a strong Gorgonzola perfume, and Emin told Parke

that he could distinguish the members of different tribes by their

characteristic odor. In the same way the Nicobarese, according to Man, can

distinguish a member of each of the six tribes of the archipelago by

smell. The odor of Australian blacks is less strong than that of negroes

and has been described as of a phosphoric character. The South American

Indians, d'Orbigny stated, have an odor stronger than that of Europeans,

though not as strong as most negroes; it is marked, Latcham states, even

among those who, like the Araucanos, bathe constantly. The Chinese have a

musky odor. The odor of many peoples is described as being of garlic.[30]

A South Sea Islander, we are told by Charles de Varigny, on coming to

Sydney and seeing the ladies walking about the streets and apparently

doing nothing, expressed much astonishment, adding, with a gesture of

contempt, "and they have no smell!" It is by no means true, however, that

Europeans are odorless. They are, indeed, considerably more odorous than

are many other races,--for instance, the Japanese,--and there is doubtless

some association between the greater hairiness of Europeans and their

marked odor, since the sebaceous glands are part of the hair apparatus. A

Japanese anthropologist, Adachi, has published an interesting study on the

odor of Europeans,[31] which he describes as a strong and pungent

smell,--sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter,--of varying strength in

different individuals, absent in children and the aged, and having its

chief focus in the armpits, which, however carefully they are washed,

immediately become odorous again. Adachi has found that the sweat-glands

are larger in Europeans than in the Japanese, among whom a strong personal

odor is so uncommon that "armpit stink" is a disqualification for the

army. It is certainly true that the white races smell less strongly than

most of the dark races, odor seeming to be correlated to some extent with

intensity of pigmentation, as well as with hairiness; but even the most

scrupulously clean Europeans all smell. This fact may not always be

obvious to human nostrils, apart from intimate contact, but it is well

known to dogs, to whom their masters are recognizable by smell. When Hue

traveled in Tibet in Chinese disguise he was not detected by the natives,

but the dogs recognized him as a foreigner by his smell and barked at him.

Many Chinese can tell by smell when a European has been in a room.[32]

There are, however, some Europeans who can recognize and distinguish their

friends by smell. The case has been recorded of a man who with bandaged

eyes could recognize his acquaintances, at the distance of several paces,

the moment they entered the room. In another case a deaf and blind mute

woman in Massachusetts knew all her acquaintances by smell, and could sort

linen after it came from the wash by the odor alone. Governesses have been

known to be able when blindfolded to recognize the ownership of their

pupil's garments by smell; such a case is known to me. Such odor is

usually described as being agreeable, but not one person in fifty, it is

stated, is able to distinguish it with sufficient precision to use it as a

method of recognition. Among some races, however this aptitude would

appear to be better developed. Dr. C.S. Myers at Sarawak noted that his

Malay boy sorted the clean linen according to the skin-odor of the

wearer.[33] Chinese servants are said to do the same, as well as

Australians and natives of Luzon.[34]

Although the distinctively individual odor of most persons is not

sufficiently marked to be generally perceptible, there are cases

in which it is more distinct to all nostrils. The most famous

case of this kind is that of Alexander the Great, who, according

to Plutarch, exhaled so sweet an odor that his tunics were soaked

with aromatic perfume (_Convivalium Disputationum_, lib. I,

quest. 6). Malherbe, Cujas, and Haller are said to have diffused

a musky odor. The agreeable odor of Walt Whitman has been

remarked by Kennedy and others. The perfume exhaled by many holy

men and women, so often noted by ancient writers (discussed by

Görres in the second volume of his _Christliche Mystik_) and

which has entered into current phraseology as a merely

metaphorical "odor of sanctity," was doubtless due, as Hammond

first pointed out, to abnormal nervous conditions, for it is well

known that such conditions affect the odor, and in insanity, for

instance, the presence is noted of bodily odors which have

sometimes even been considered of diagnostic importance. J.B.

Friedreich, _Allgemeine Diagnostik der Psychischen Krankheiten_,

second edition, 1832, pp. 9-10, quotes passages from various

authors on this point, which he accepts; various writers of more

recent date have made similar observations.

The odor of sanctity was specially noted at death, and was

doubtless confused with the _odor mortis_, which frequently

precedes death and by some is regarded as an almost certain

indication of its approach. In the _British Medical Journal_, for

May and June, 1898, will be found letters from several

correspondents substantiating this point. One of these

correspondents (Dr. Tuckey, of Tywardwreath, Cornwall) mentions

that he has in Cornwall often seen ravens flying over houses in

which persons lay dying, evidently attracted by a characteristic

odor.

It must be borne in mind, however, that, while every person has, to a

sensitive nose, a distinguishing odor, we must regard that odor either as

but one of the various sensations given off by the body, or else as a

combination of two or more of these emanations. The body in reality gives

off a number of different odors. The most important of these are: (1) the

general skin odor, a faint, but agreeable, fragrance often to be detected

on the skin even immediately after washing; (2) the smell of the hair and

scalp; (3) the odor of the breath; (4) the odor of the armpit; (5) the

odor of the feet; (6) the perineal odor; (7) in men the odor of the

preputial smegma; (8) in women the odor of the mons veneris, that of

vulvar smegma, that of vaginal mucus, and the menstrual odor. All these

are odors which may usually be detected, though sometimes only in a very

faint degree, in healthy and well-washed persons under normal conditions.

It is unnecessary here to take into account the special odors of various

secretions and excretions.[35]

It is a significant fact, both as regards the ancestral sexual connections

of the body odors and their actual sexual associations to-day, that, as

Hippocrates long ago noted, it is not until puberty that they assume their

adult characteristics. The infant, the adult, the aged person, each has

his own kind of smell, and, as Monin remarks, it might be possible, within

certain limits, to discover the age of a person by his odor. Jorg in 1832

pointed out that in girls the appearance of a specific smell of the

excreta indicates the establishment of puberty, and Kaan, in his

_Psychopathia Sexualis_, remarked that at puberty "the sweat gives out a

more acrid odor resembling musk." In both sexes puberty, adolescence,

early manhood and womanhood are marked by a gradual development of the

adult odor of skin and excreta, in general harmony with the secondary

sexual development of hair and pigment. Venturi, indeed, has, not without

reason, described the odor of the body as a secondary sexual

character.[36] It may be added that, as is the case with the pigment in

various parts of the body in women, some of these odors tend to become

exaggerated in sympathy with sexual and other emotional states.

The odor of the infant is said to be of butyric acid; that of old

people to resemble dry leaves. Continent young men have been said

by many ancient writers to smell more strongly than the unchaste,

and some writers have described as "seminal odor"--an odor

resembling that of animals in heat, faintly recalling that of the

he-goat, according to Venturi--the exhalations of the skin at

such times.

During sexual excitement, as women can testify, a man very

frequently, if not normally, gives out an odor which, as usually

described, proceeds from the skin, the breath, or both. Grimaldi

states that it is as of rancid butter; others say it resembles

chloroform. It is said to be sometimes perceptible for a distance

of several feet and to last for several hours after coitus.

(Various quotations are given by Gould and Pyle, _Anomalies and

Curiosities of Medicine_, section on "Human Odors," pp. 397-403.)

St. Philip Neri is said to have been able to recognize a chaste

man by smell.

During menstruation girls and young women frequently give off an

odor which is quite distinct from that of the menstrual fluid,

and is specially marked in the breath, which may smell of

chloroform or violets. Pouchet (confirmed by Raciborski, _Traité

de la Menstruation_, 1868, p. 74) stated that about a day before

the onset of menstruation a characteristic smell is exuded.

Menstruating girls are also said sometimes to give off a smell of

leather. Aubert, of Lyons (as quoted by Galopin), describes the

odor of the skin of a woman during menstruation as an agreeable

aromatic or acidulous perfume of chloroform character. By some

this is described as emanating especially from the armpits.

Sandras (quoted by Raciborski) knew a lady who could always tell

by a sensation of faintness and _malaise_--apparently due to a

sensation of smell--when she was in contact with a menstruating

woman. I am acquainted with a man, having strong olfactory

sympathies and antipathies, who detects the presence of

menstruation by smell. It is said that Hortense Baré, who

accompanied her lover, the botanist Commerson, to the Pacific

disguised as a man, was recognized by the natives as a woman by

means of smell.

Women, like men, frequently give out an odor during coitus or

strong sexual excitement. This odor may be entirely different

from that normally emanating from the woman, of an acid or

hircine character, and sufficiently strong to remain in a room

for a considerable period. Many of the ancient medical writers

(as quoted by Schurigius, _Parthenologia_, p. 286) described the

goaty smell produced by venery, especially in women; they

regarded it as specially marked in harlots and in the newly

married, and sometimes even considered it a certain sign of

defloration. The case has been recorded of a woman who emitted a

rose odor for two days after coitus (McBride, quoted by Kiernan

in an interesting summary, "Odor in Pathology," _Doctor's

Magazine_, December, 1900). There was, it is said (_Journal des

Savans_ 1684, p. 39, quoting from the _Journal d'Angleterre_) a

monk in Prague who could recognize by smell the chastity of the

women who approached him. (This monk, it is added, when he died,

was composing a new science of odors.)

Gustav Klein (as quoted by Adler, _Die Mangelhafte

Geschlechtsempfindungen des Weibes_, p. 25) argues that the

special function of the glands at the vulvar orifice--the

_glandulæ vestibulares majores_--is to give out an odorous

secretion to act as an attraction to the male, this relic of

sexual periodicity no longer, however, playing an important part

in the human species. The vulvar secretion, however, it may be

added, still has a more aromatic odor than the vaginal secretion,

with its simple mucous odor, very clearly perceived during

parturition.

It may be added that we still know extremely little concerning

the sexual odors of women among primitive peoples. Ploss and

Bartels are only able to bring forward (_Das Weib_, 1901, bd. 1,

p. 218) a statement concerning the women of New Caledonia, who,

according to Moncelon, when young and ardent, give out during

coitus a powerful odor which no ablution will remove. In abnormal

states of sexual excitement such odor may be persistent, and,

according to an ancient observation, a nymphomaniac, whose

periods of sexual excitement lasted all through the spring-time,

at these periods always emitted a goatlike odor. It has been said

(G. Tourdes, art. "Aphrodisie," _Dictionnaire Encyclopédique des

Sciences Médicales_) that the erotic temperament is characterized

by a special odor.

If the body odors tend to develop at puberty, to be maintained during

sexual life, especially in sympathy with conditions of sexual disturbance,

and to become diminished in old age, being thus a kind of secondary sexual

character, we should expect them to be less marked in those cases in which

the primary sexual characters are less marked. It is possible that this is

actually the case. Hagen, in his _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, quotes from

Roubaud's _Traité de l'Impuissance_ the statement that the body odor of

the castrated differs from that of normal individuals. Burdach had

previously stated that the odor of the eunuch is less marked than that of

the normal man.

It is thus possible that defective sexual development tends to be

associated with corresponding olfactory defect. Heschl[37] has reported a

case in which absence of both olfactory nerves coincided with defective

development of the sexual organs. Féré remarks that the impotent show a

repugnance for sexual odors. Dr. Kiernan informs me that in women after

oöphorectomy he has noted a tendency to diminished (and occasionally

increased) sense of smell. These questions, however, await more careful

and extended observation.

A very significant transition from the phenomena of personal odor to those

of sexual attraction by personal odor is to be found in the fact that

among the peoples inhabiting a large part of the world's surface the

ordinary salutation between friends is by mutual smelling of the person.

In some form or another the method of salutation by applying the nose to

the nose, face, or hand of a friend in greeting is found throughout a

large part of the Pacific, among the Papuans, the Eskimo, the hill tribes

of India, in Africa, and elsewhere.[38] Thus, among a certain hill tribe

in India, according to Lewin, they smell a friend's cheek: "in their

language, they do not say, 'Give me a kiss,' but they say 'Smell me.'" And

on the Gambia, according to F. Moore, "When the men salute the women,

they, instead of shaking their hands, put it up to their noses, and smell

twice to the back of it." Here we have very clearly a recognition of the

emotional value of personal odor widely prevailing throughout the world.

The salutation on an olfactory basis may, indeed, be said to be more

general than the salutation on a tactile basis on which European

handshaking rests, each form involving one of the two most intimate and

emotional senses. The kiss may be said to be a development proceeding both

from the olfactory and the tactile bases, with perhaps some other elements

as well, and is too complex to be regarded as a phenomenon of either

purely tactile or purely olfactory origin.[39]

As the sole factor in sexual selection olfaction must be rare. It is said

that Asiatic princes have sometimes caused a number of the ladies to race

in the seraglio garden until they were heated; their garments have then

been brought to the prince, who has selected one of them solely by the

odor.[40] There was here a sexual selection mainly by odor. Any exclusive

efficacy of the olfactory sense is rare, not so much because the

impressions of this sense are inoperative, but because agreeable personal

odors are not sufficiently powerful, and the olfactory organ is too

obtuse, to enable smell to take precedence of sight. Nevertheless, in many

people, it is probable that certain odors, especially those that are

correlated with a healthy and sexually desirable person, tend to be

agreeable; they are fortified by their association with the loved person,

sometimes to an irresistible degree; and their potency is doubtless

increased by the fact, to which reference has already been made, that many

odors, including some bodily odors, are nervous stimulants.

It is possible that the sexual associations of odors have been still

further fortified by a tendency to correlation between a high development

of the olfactory organ and a high development of the sexual apparatus. An

association between a large nose and a large male organ is a very ancient

observation and has been verified occasionally in recent times. There is

normally at puberty a great increase in the septum of the nose, and it is

quite conceivable, in view of the sympathy, which, as we shall see,

certainly exists between the olfactory and sexual region, that the two

regions may develop together under a common influence.

The Romans firmly believed in the connection between a large nose

and a large penis. "Noscitur e naso quanta sit hasta viro,"

stated Ovid. This belief continued to prevail, especially in

Italy, through the middle ages; the physiognomists made much of

it, and licentious women (like Joanna of Naples) were, it

appears, accustomed to bear it in mind, although disappointment

is recorded often to have followed. (See e.g., the quotations and

references given by J.N. Mackenzie, "Physiological and

Pathological Relations between the Nose and the Sexual Apparatus

in Man." _Johns Hopkins Hospital Bulletin_, No. 82, January,

1898; also Hagen, _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, pp. 15-19.) A

similar belief as to the association between the sexual impulse

in women and a long nose was evidently common in England in the

sixteenth century, for in Massinger's _Emperor of the East_ (Act

II, Scene I) we read,

"Her nose, which by its length assures me

Of storms at midnight if I fail to pay her

The tribute she expects."

At the present day, a proverb of the Venetian people still

embodies the belief in the connection between a large nose and a

large sexual member.

The probability that such an association tends in many cases to

prevail is indicated not only by the beliefs of antiquity, when

more careful attention was paid to these matters, but by the

testimony of various modern observers, although it does not

appear that any series of exact observations have yet been made.

It may be noted that Marro, in his careful anthropological study

of criminals (_I Caratteri dei Delinquenti_), found no class of

criminals with so large a proportion alike of anomalies of the

nose and anomalies of the genital organs as sexual offenders.

However this may be, it is less doubtful that there is a very intimate

relation both in men and women between the olfactory mucous membrane of

the nose and the whole genital apparatus, that they frequently show a

sympathetic action, that influences acting on the genital sphere will

affect the nose, and occasionally, it is probable, influences acting on

the nose reflexly affect the genital sphere. To discuss these

relationships would here be out of place, since specialists are not

altogether in agreement concerning the matter. A few are inclined to

regard the association as extremely intimate, so that each region is

sensitive even to slight stimuli applied to the other region, while, on

the other hand, many authorities ignore altogether the question of the

relationship. It would appear, however, that there really is, in a

considerable number of people at all events, a reflex connection of this

kind. It has especially been noted that in many cases congestion of the

nose precedes menstruation.

Bleeding of the nose is specially apt to occur at puberty and during

adolescence, while in women it may take the place of menstruation and is

sometimes more apt to occur at the menstrual periods; disorders of the

nose have also been found to be aggravated at these periods. It has even

been possible to control bleeding of the nose, both in men and women, by

applying ice to the sexual regions. In both men and women, again, cases

have been recorded in which sexual excitement, whether of coitus or

masturbation, has been followed by bleeding of the nose. In numerous cases

it is followed by slight congestive conditions of the nasal passages and

especially by sneezing. Various authors have referred to this phenomenon;

I am acquainted with a lady in whom it is fairly constant.[41] Féré

records the case of a lady, a nervous subject, who began to experience

intense spontaneous sexual excitement shortly after marriage, accompanied

by much secretion from the nose.[42] J.N. Mackenzie is acquainted with a

number of such cases, and he considers that the popular expression

"bride's cold" indicates that this effect of strong sexual excitement is

widely recognized.

The late Professor Hack, of Freiburg, in 1884, called general

medical attention to the intimate connection between the nose and

states of nervous hyperexcitability in various parts of the body,

although such a connection had been recognized for many centuries

in medical literature. While Hack and his disciples thus gave

prominence to this association, they undoubtedly greatly

exaggerated its importance and significance. (Sir Felix Semon,

_British Medical Journal_, November 9, 1901.) Even many workers

who have more recently further added to our knowledge have also,

as sometimes happens with enthusiasts, unduly strained their own

data. Starting from the fact that in women during menstruation

examination of the nose reveals a degree of congestion not found

during the rest of the month, Fliess (_Die Beziehungen zwischen

Nase und Weiblichen Geschlechtsorganen_, 1897), with the help of

a number of elaborate and prolonged observations, has reached

conclusions which, while they seem to be hazardous at some

points, have certainly contributed to build up our knowledge of

this obscure subject. Schiff (_Wiener klinische Wochenschrift_,

1900, p. 58, summarized in _British Medical Journal_, February

16, 1901), starting from a skeptical standpoint, has confirmed

some of Fliess's results, and in a large number of cases

controlled painful menstruation by painting with cocaine the

so-called "genital spots" in the nose, all possibility of

suggestion being avoided. Ries, of Chicago, has been similarly

successful with the method of Fliess (_American Gynæcology_, vol.

iii, No. 4, 1903). Benedikt (_Wiener medicinische Wochenschrift_,

No. 8, 1901, summarized in _Journal of Medical Science_, October,

1901), while pointing out that the nose is not the only organ in

sympathetic relation with the sexual sphere, suggests that the

mechanism of the relationship is involved in the larger problem

of the harmony in growth and in nutrition of the different parts

of the organism. In this way, probably, we may attach

considerable significance to the existence of a kind of erectile

tissue in the nose.

An interesting example of a reflex influence from the nose

affecting the genital sphere has been brought forward by Dr. E.S.

Talbot, of Chicago: "A 56-year-old man was operated on

(September 1, 1903) for the removal of the left cartilage of the

septum of the nose owing to a previous traumatic fracture at the

sixteenth year. No pain was experienced until two years ago, when

a continual soreness occurred at the apical end of the fracture

during the winter months. The operation was decided upon fearing

more serious complications. The parts were cocainized. No pain

was experienced in the operation except at one point at the lower

posterior portion near the floor of the nose. A profound shock to

the general system followed. The reflex influence of the pain

upon the genital organs caused semen to flow continually for

three weeks. Treatment of general motor irritability with camphor

monobromate and conium, on consultation with Dr. Kiernan, checked

the flow. The discharge produced spinal neurasthenia. The legs

and feet felt heavy. Erythromelalgia caused uneasiness. The

patient walked with difficulty. The tired feeling in the feet and

limbs was quite noticeable four months after the operation,

although the pain had, to a great extent diminished." (Chicago

Academy of Medicine, January, 1904, and private letter.)

J.N. Mackenzie has brought together a great many original

observations, together with interesting quotations from old

medical literature, in his two papers: "The Pathological Nasal

Reflex" (_New York Medical Journal_, August 20, 1887) and "The

Physiological and Pathological Relations between the Nose and the

Sexual Apparatus of Man" (_Johns Hopkins Hospital Bulletin_,

January 1, 1898). A number of cases have also been brought

together from the literature by G. Endriss in his Inaugural

Dissertation, _Die bisherigen Beobachtungen von Physiologischen

und Pathologischen Beziehungen der oberen Luftwege zu den

Sexualorganen_, Teil. II, Würzburg, 1892.

The intimate association between the sexual centers and the olfactory

tract is well illustrated by the fact that this primitive and ancient

association tends to come to the surface in insanity. It is recognized by

many alienists that insanity of a sexual character is specially liable to

be associated with hallucinations of smell.

Many eminent alienists in various countries are very decidedly of

the opinion that there is a special tendency to the association

of olfactory hallucinations with sexual manifestations, and,

although one or two authorities have expressed doubt on the

matter, the available evidence clearly indicates such an

association. Hallucinations of smell are comparatively rare as

compared to hallucinations of sight and hearing; they are

commoner in women than in men and they not infrequently occur at

periods of sexual disturbance, at adolescence, in puerperal

fever, at the change of life, in women with ovarian troubles, and

in old people troubled with sexual desires or remorse for such

desires. They have often been noted as specially frequent in

cases of excessive masturbation.

Krafft-Ebing, who found olfactory hallucinations common in

various sexual states, considers that they are directly dependent

on sexual excitement (_Allgemeine Zeitschrift für Psychiatrie_,

bd. 34, ht. 4, 1877). Conolly Norman believes in a distinct and

frequent association between olfactory hallucinations and sexual

disturbance (_Journal of Mental Science_, July, 1899, p. 532).

Savage is also impressed by the close association between sexual

disturbance or changes in the reproductive organs and

hallucinations of smell as well as of touch. He has found that

persistent hallucinations of smell disappeared when a diseased

ovary was removed, although the patient remained insane. He

considers that such hallucinations of smell are allied to

reversions. (G.H. Savage, "Smell, Hallucinations of," Tuke's

_Dictionary of Psychological Medicine_; cf. the same author's

manual of _Insanity and Allied Neuroses_.) Matusch, while not

finding olfactory hallucinations common at the climacteric,

states that when they are present they are connected with uterine

trouble and sexual craving. He finds them more common in young

women. (Matusch, "Der Einfluss des Climacterium auf Entstchung

und Form der Geistesstörung," _Allgemeine Zeitschrift für

Psychiatrie_, vol. xlvi, ht. 4). Féré has related a significant

case of a young man in whom hallucinations of smell accompanied

the sexual orgasm; he subsequently developed epilepsy, to which

the hallucination then constituted the aura (_Comptes Rendus de

la Société de Biologie_, December, 1896). The prevalence of a

sexual element in olfactory hallucinations has been investigated

by Bullen, who examined into 95 cases of hallucinations of smell

among the patients in several asylums. (In a few cases there were

reasons for believing that peripheral conditions existed which

would render these hallucinations more strictly illusions.) Of

these, 64 were women. Sixteen of the women were climacteric

cases, and 3 of them had sexual hallucinations or delusions.

Fourteen other women (chiefly cases of chronic delusional

insanity) had sexual delusions. Altogether, 31 men and women had

sexual delusions. This is a large proportion. Bullen is not,

however, inclined to admit any direct connection between the

reproductive system and the sense of smell. He finds that other

hallucinations are very frequently associated with the olfactory

hallucinations, and considers that the co-existence of olfactory

and sexual troubles simply indicates a very deep and widespread

nervous disturbance. (F. St. John Bullen, "Olfactory

Hallucinations in the Insane," _Journal of Mental Science_, July,

1899.) In order to elucidate the matter fully we require further

precise inquiries on the lines Bullen has laid down.

It may be of interest to note, in this connection, that smell and

taste hallucinations appear to be specially frequent in forms of

religious insanity. Thus, Dr. Zurcher, in her inaugural

dissertation on Joan of Arc (_Jeanne d'Arc_, Leipzig, 1895, p.

72), estimates that on the average in such insanity nearly 50 per

cent, of the hallucinations affect smell and taste; she refers

also to the olfactory hallucinations of great religious leaders,

Francis of Assisi, Katherina Emmerich, Lazzaretti, and the

Anabaptists.

It may well be, as Zwaardemaker has suggested in his _Physiologie des

Geruchs_, that the nasal congestion at menstruation and similar phenomena

are connected with that association of smell and sexuality which is

observable throughout the whole animal world, and that the congestion

brings about a temporary increase of olfactory sensitiveness during the

stage of sexual excitation.[43] Careful investigation of olfactory

acuteness would reveal the existence of such menstrual heightening of its

acuity.

In a few exceptional, but still quite healthy people, smell would appear

to possess an emotional predominance which it cannot be said to possess in

the average person. These exceptional people are of what Binet in his

study of sexual fetichism calls olfactive type; such persons form a group

which, though of smaller size and less importance, is fairly comparable to

the well-known groups of visual type, of auditory type, and of psychomotor

type. Such people would be more attentive to odors, more moved by

olfactory sympathies and antipathies, than are ordinary people. For these,

it may well be, the supremacy accorded to olfactory influences in Jäger's

_Entdeckung der Seele_, though extravagantly incorrect for ordinary

persons, may appear quite reasonable.

It is certain also that a great many neurasthenic people, and

particularly those who are sexually neurasthenic, are peculiarly

susceptible to olfactory influences. A number of eminent poets and

novelists--especially, it would appear, in France--seem to be in this

case. Baudelaire, of all great poets, has most persistently and most

elaborately emphasized the imaginative and emotional significance of odor;

the _Fleurs du Mal_ and many of the _Petits Poèmes en Prose_ are, from

this point of view, of great interest. There can be no doubt that in

Baudelaire's own imaginative and emotional life the sense of smell played

a highly important part; and that, in his own words, odor was to him what

music is to others. Throughout Zola's novels--and perhaps more especially

in _La Faute de l'Abbé Mouret_--there is an extreme insistence on odors of

every kind. Prof. Leopold Bernard wrote an elaborate study of this aspect

of Zola's work[44]; he believed that underlying Zola's interest in odors

there was an abnormally keen olfactory sensibility and large development

of the olfactory region of the brain. Such a supposition is, however,

unnecessary, and, as a matter of fact, a careful examination of Zola's

olfactory sensibility, conducted by M. Passy, showed that it was somewhat

below normal.[45] At the same time it was shown that Zola was really a

person of olfactory psychic type, with a special attention to odors and a

special memory for them; as is frequently the case with perfumers with

less than normal olfactory acuity he possessed a more than normal power of

discriminating odors; it is possible that in early life his olfactory

acuity may also have been above normal. In the same way Nietzsche, in his

writings, shows a marked sensibility, and especially antipathy, as regards

odors, which has by some been regarded as an index to a real physical

sensibility of abnormal keenness; according to Möbius, however, there was

no reason for supposing this to be the case.[46] Huysmans, who throughout

his books reveals a very intense preoccupation with the exact shades of

many kinds of sensory impressions, and an apparently abnormally keen

sensibility to them, has shown a great interest in odors, more especially

in an oft-quoted passage in _A Rebours_. The blind Milton of "Paradise

Lost" (as the late Mr. Grant Allen once remarked to me), dwells much on

scents; in this case it is doubtless to the blindness and not to any

special organic predisposition that we must attribute this direction of

sensory attention.[47] Among our older English poets, also, Herrick

displays a special interest in odors with a definite realization of their

sexual attractiveness.[48] Shelley, who was alive to so many of the

unusual æsthetic aspects of things, often shows an enthusiastic delight in

odors, more especially those of flowers. It may, indeed, be said that most

poets--though to a less degree than those I have mentioned--devote a

special attention to odors, and, since it has been possible to describe

smell as the sense of imagination, this need not surprise us. That

Shakespeare, for instance, ranked this sense very high indeed is shown by

various passages in his works and notably by Sonnet LIV: "O, how much more

doth beauty beauteous seem?"--in which he implicitly places the attraction

of odor on at least as high a level as that of vision.[49]

A neurasthenic sensitiveness to odors, specially sexual odors, is

frequently accompanied by lack of sexual vigor. In this way we may account

for the numerous cases in which old men in whom sexual desire survives the

loss of virile powers--probably somewhat abnormal persons at the

outset--find satisfaction in sexual odors. Here, also, we have the basis

for olfactory fetichism. In such fetichism the odor of the woman alone,

whoever she may be and however unattractive she may be, suffices to

furnish complete sexual satisfaction. In many, although not all, of those

cases in which articles of women's clothing become the object of

fetichistic attraction, there is certainly an olfactory element due to the

personal odor attaching to the garments.[50]

Olfactory influences play a certain part in various sexually

abnormal tendencies and practices which do not proceed from an

exclusively olfactory fascination. Thus, _cunnilingus_ and

_fellatio_ derive part of their attraction, more especially in

some individuals, from a predilection for the odors of the sexual

parts. (See, e.g., Moll, _Untersuchungen über die Libido

Sexualis_, bd. 1, p. 134.) In many cases smell plays no part in

the attraction; "I enjoy _cunnilingus_, if I like the girl very

much," a correspondent writes, "_in spite_ of the smell." We may

associate this impulse with the prevalence of these practices

among sexual inverts, in whom olfactory attractions are often

specially marked. Those individuals, also, who are sexually

affected by the urinary and alvine excretions ("_renifleurs_,"

"_stereoraires_," etc.) are largely, though not necessarily

altogether, moved by olfactory impressions. The attraction was,

however, exclusively olfactory in the case of the young woman

recorded by Moraglia (_Archivio di Psichiatria_, 1892, p. 267),

who was irresistibly excited by the odor of the fermented urine

of men, and possibly also in the case narrated to Moraglia by

Prof. L. Bianchi (ib. p. 568), in which a wife required flatus

from her husband.

The sexual pleasure derived from partial strangulation (discussed

in the study of "Love and Pain" in a previous volume) may be

associated with heightened olfactory sexual excitation. Dr.

Kiernan, who points this out to me, has investigated a few

neuropathic patients who like to have their necks squeezed, as

they express it, and finds that in the majority the olfactory

sensibility is thus intensified.

Even in ordinary normal persons, however, there can be no doubt that

personal odor tends to play a not inconsiderable part in sexual

attractions and sexual repulsions. As a sexual excitant, indeed, it comes

far behind the stimuli received through the sense of sight. The

comparative bluntness of the sense of smell in man makes it difficult for

olfactory influence to be felt, as a rule, until the preliminaries of

courtship are already over; so that it is impossible for smell ever to

possess the same significance in sexual attraction in man that it

possesses in the lower animals. With that reservation there can be no

doubt that odor has a certain favorable or unfavorable influence in sexual

relationships in all human races from the lowest to the highest. The

Polynesian spoke with contempt of those women of European race who "have

no smell," and in view of the pronounced personal odor of so many savage

peoples as well as of the careful attention which they so often pay to

odors, we may certainly assume, even in the absence of much definite

evidence, that smell counts for much in their sexual relationships. This

is confirmed by such practices as that found among some primitive

peoples--as, it is stated, in the Philippines--of lovers exchanging their

garments to have the smell of the loved one about them. In the barbaric

stages of society this element becomes self-conscious and is clearly

avowed; personal odors are constantly described with complacency,

sometimes as mingled with the lavish use of artificial perfumes, in much

of the erotic literature produced in the highest stages of barbarism,

especially by Eastern peoples living in hot climates; it is only necessary

to refer to the _Song of Songs_, the _Arabian Nights_, and the Indian

treatises on love. Even in some parts of Europe the same influence is

recognized in the crudest animal form, and Krauss states that among the

Southern Slavs it is sometimes customary to leave the sexual parts

unwashed because a strong odor of these parts is regarded as a sexual

stimulant. Under the usual conditions of life in Europe personal odor has

sunk into the background; this has been so equally under the conditions of

classic, mediæval, and modern life. Personal odor has been generally

regarded as unæsthetic; it has, for the most part, only been mentioned to

be reprobated, and even those poets and others who during recent centuries

have shown a sensitive delight and interest in odors--Herrick, Shelley,

Baudelaire, Zola, and Huysmans--have seldom ventured to insist that a

purely natural and personal odor can be agreeable. The fact that it may be

so, and that for most people such odors cannot be a matter of indifference

in the most intimate of all relationships, is usually only to be learned

casually and incidentally. There can be no doubt, however, that, as

Kiernan points out, the extent to which olfaction influences the sexual

sphere in civilized man has been much underestimated. We need not,

therefore, be surprised at the greater interest which has recently been

taken in this subject. As usually happens, indeed, there has been in some

writers a tendency to run to the opposite extreme, and we cannot, with

Gustav Jäger, regard the sexual instinct as mainly or altogether an

olfactory matter.

Of the Padmini, the perfect woman, the "lotus woman," Hindu

writers say that "her sweat has the odor of musk," while the

vulgar woman, they say, smells of fish (_Kama Sutra of

Vatsyayana_). Ploss and Bartels (_Das Weib_, 1901, p. 218) bring

forward a passage from the Tamil _Kokkôgam_, minutely describing

various kinds of sexual odor in women, which they regard as

resting on sound observation.

Four things in a woman, says the Arab, should be perfumed: the

mouth, the armpits, the pudenda, and the nose. The Persian poets,

in describing the body, delighted to use metaphors involving

odor. Not only the hair and the down on the face, but the chin,

the mouth, the beauty spots, the neck, all suggested odorous

images. The epithets applied to the hair frequently refer to

musk, ambergris, and civet. (_Anis El-Ochchâq_ translated by

Huart, _Bibliothèque de l'Ecole des Hautes Etudes_, fasc. 25,

1875.)

The Hebrew _Song of Songs_ furnishes a typical example of a very

beautiful Eastern love-poem in which the importance of the appeal

to the sense of smell is throughout emphasized. There are in this

short poem as many as twenty-four fairly definite references to

odors,--personal odors, perfumes, and flowers,--while numerous

other references to flowers, etc., seem to point to olfactory

associations. Both the lover and his sweetheart express pleasure

in each other's personal odor.

"My beloved is unto me," she sings, "as a bag of myrrh

That lieth between my breasts;

My beloved is unto me as a cluster of henna flowers

In the vineyard of En-gedi."

And again: "His cheeks are as a bed of spices [or balsam], as

banks of sweet herbs." While of her he says: "The smell of thy

breath [or nose] is like apples."

Greek and Roman antiquity, which has so largely influenced the

traditions of modern Europe, was lavish in the use of perfumes,

but showed no sympathy with personal odors. For the Roman

satirists, like Martial, a personal odor is nearly always an

unpleasant odor, though, there are a few allusions in classic

literature recognizing bodily smell as a sexual attraction. Ovid,

in his _Ars Amandi_ (Book III), says it is scarcely necessary to

remind a lady that she must not keep a goat in her armpits: "_ne

trux caper iret in alas_." "_Mulier tum bene olet ubi nihil

olet_" is an ancient dictum, and in the sixteenth century

Montaigne still repeated the same saying with complete approval.

A different current of feeling began to appear with the new

emotional movement during the eighteenth century. Rousseau called

attention to the importance of the olfactory sense, and in his

educational work, _Emile_ (Bk. II), he referred to the odor of a

woman's "_cabinet de toilette_" as not so feeble a snare as is

commonly supposed. In the same century Casanova wrote still more

emphatically concerning the same point; in the preface to his

_Mémoires_ he states: "I have always found sweet the odor of the

women I have loved"; and elsewhere: "There is something in the

air of the bedroom of the woman one loves, something so intimate,

so balsamic, such voluptuous emanations, that if a lover had to

choose between Heaven and this place of delight his hesitation

would not last for a moment" (_Mémoires_, vol. iii). In the

previous century, in England, Sir Kenelm Digby, in his

interesting and remarkable _Private Memoirs_, when describing a

visit to Lady Venetia Stanley, afterward his wife, touches on

personal odor as an element of attraction; he had found her

asleep in bed and on her breasts "did glisten a few drops of

sweatlike diamond sparks, and had a more fragrant odor than the

violets or primroses whose season was newly passed."

In 1821 Cadet-Devaux published, in the _Revue Encyclopédique_, a

study entitled "De l'atmosphère de la Femme et de sa Puissance,"

which attracted a great deal of attention in Germany as well as

in France; he considered that the exhalations of the feminine

body are of the first importance in sexual attraction.

Prof. A. Galopin in 1886 wrote a semiscientific book, _Le Parfum

de la Femme_, in which the sexual significance of personal odor

is developed to its fullest. He writes with enthusiasm concerning

the sweet and health-giving character of the natural perfume of a

beloved woman, and the mischief done both to health and love by

the use of artificial perfumes. "The purest marriage that can be

contracted between a man and a woman," he asserts (p. 157) "is

that engendered by olfaction and sanctioned by a common

assimilation in the brain of the animated molecules due to the

secretion and evaporation of two bodies in contact and sympathy."

In a book written during the first half of the nineteenth century

which contains various subtle observations on love we read, with

reference to the sweet odor which poets have found in the breath

of women: "In reality many women have an intoxicatingly agreeable

breath which plays no small part in the love-compelling

atmosphere which they spread around them" (_Eros oder Wörterbuch

über die Physiologie_, 1849, Bd. 1, p. 45).

Most of the writers on the psychology of love at this period,

however, seem to have passed over the olfactory element in sexual

attraction, regarding it probably as too unæsthetic. It receives

no emphasis either in Sénancour's _De l'Amour_ or Stendhal's _De

l'Amour_ or Michelet's _L'Amour_.

The poets within recent times have frequently referred to odors,

personal and other, but the novelists have more rarely done so.

Zola and Huysmans, the two novelists who have most elaborately

and insistently developed the olfactory side of life, have dwelt

more on odors that are repulsive than on those that are

agreeable. It is therefore of interest to note that in a few

remarkable novels of recent times the attractiveness of personal

odor has been emphasized. This is notably so in Tolstoy's _War

and Peace_, in which Count Peter suddenly resolves to marry

Princess Helena after inhaling her odor at a ball. In

d'Annunzio's _Trionfo della Morte_ the seductive and consoling

odor of the beloved woman's skin is described in several

passages; thus, when Giorgio kissed Ippolita's arms and

shoulders, we are told, "he perceived the sharp and yet delicate

perfume of her, the perfume of the skin that in the hour of joy

became intoxicating as that of the tuberose, and a terrible lash

to desire."

When we are dealing with the sexual significance of personal odors in man

there is at the outset an important difference to be noticed in comparison

with the lower mammals. Not only is the significance of odor altogether

very much less, but the focus of olfactory attractiveness has been

displaced. The centre of olfactory attractiveness is not, as usually among

animals, in the sexual region, but is transferred to the upper part of the

body. In this respect the sexual olfactory allurement in man resembles

what we find in the sphere of vision, for neither the sexual organs of man

nor of woman are usually beautiful in the eyes of the opposite sex, and

their exhibition is not among us regarded as a necessary stage in

courtship. The odor of the body, like its beauty, in so far as it can be

regarded as a possible sexual allurement, has in the course of development

been transferred to the upper parts. The careful concealment of the sexual

region has doubtless favored this transfer. It has thus happened that when

personal odor acts as a sexual allurement it is the armpit, in any case

normally the chief focus of odor in the body, which mainly comes into

play, together with the skin and the hair.

Aubert, of Lyons, noted that during menstruation the odor of the

armpits may become more powerful, and describes it as being at

this time an aromatic odor of acidulous or chloroform character.

Galopin remarks that, while some women's armpits smell of sheep

in rut, others, when exposed to the air, have a fragrance of

ambergris or violet. Dark persons (according to Gould and Pyle)

are said sometimes to exhale a prussic acid odor, and blondes

more frequently musk; Galopin associates the ambergris odor more

especially with blondes.

While some European poets have faintly indicated the woman's

armpit as a centre of sexual attraction, it is among Eastern

poets that we may find the idea more directly and naturally

expressed. Thus, in a Chinese drama ("The Transmigration of

Yo-Chow," _Mercure de France_, No. 8, 1901) we find a learned

young doctor addressing the following poem to his betrothed:--

"When I have climbed to the bushy summit of Mount Chao,

I have still not reached to the level of your odorous armpit.

I must needs mount to the sky

Before the breeze brings to me

The perfume of that embalsamed nest!"

This poet seems, however, to have been carried to a pitch of

enthusiasm unusual even in China, for his future mother-in-law,

after expressing her admiration for the poem, remarks: "But who

would have thought one could find so many beautiful things under

my daughter's armpit!"

The odor of the armpit is the most powerful in the body,

sufficiently powerful to act as a muscular stimulant even in the

absence of any direct sexual association. This is indicated by an

observation made by Féré, who noticed, when living opposite a

laundry, that an old woman who worked near the window would,

toward the close of the day, introduce her right hand under the

sleeve of the other to the armpit and then hold it to her nose;

this she would do about every five minutes. It was evident that

the odor acted as a stimulant to her failing energies. Féré has

been informed by others who have had occasion to frequent

workrooms that this proceeding is by no means uncommon among

persons of both sexes. (Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, second

edition, p. 135.) I have myself noticed the same gesture very

deliberately made in the street by a young English woman of the

working class, under circumstances which suggested that it acted

as an immediate stimulant in fatigue.

Huysmans--who in his novels has insisted on odors, both those of

a personal kind and perfumes, with great precision--has devoted

one of the sketches, "Le Gousset," in his _Croquis Parisiens_

(1880) to the varying odors of women's armpits. "I have followed

this fragrance in the country," he remarks, "behind a group of

women gleaners under the bright sun. It was excessive and

terrible; it stung your nostrils like an unstoppered bottle of

alkali; it seized you, irritating your mucous membrane with a

rough odor which had in it something of the relish of wild duck

cooked with olives and the sharp odor of the shallot. On the

whole, it was not a vile or repugnant emanation; it united, as an

anticipated thing, with the formidable odors of the landscape; it

was the pure note, completing with the human animals' cry of heat

the odorous melody of beasts and woods." He goes on to speak of

the perfume of feminine arms in the ball-room. "There the aroma

is of ammoniated valerian, of chlorinated urine, brutally

accentuated sometimes, even with a slight scent of prussic acid

about it, a faint whiff of overripe peaches." These

"spice-boxes," however, Huysmans continues, are more seductive

when their perfume is filtered through the garments. "The appeal

of the balsam of their arms is then less insolent, less cynical,

than at the ball where they are more naked, but it more easily

uncages the animal in man. Various as the color of the hair, the

odor of the armpit is infinitely divisible; its gamut covers the

whole keyboard of odors, reaching the obstinate scents of syringa

and elder, and sometimes recalling the sweet perfume of the

rubbed fingers that have held a cigarette. Audacious and

sometimes fatiguing in the brunette and the black woman, sharp

and fierce in the red woman, the armpit is heady as some sugared

wines in the blondes." It will be noted that this very exact

description corresponds at various points with the remarks of

more scientific observers.

Sometimes the odor of the armpit may even become a kind of fetich

which is craved for its own sake and in itself suffices to give

pleasure. Féré has recorded such a case, in a friend of his own,

a man of 60, with whom at one time he used to hunt, of robust

health and belonging to a healthy family. On these hunting

expeditions he used to tease the girls and women he met

(sometimes even rather old women) in a surprising manner, when he

came upon them walking in the fields with their short-sleeved

chemises exposed. When he had succeeded in introducing his hand

into the woman's armpit he went away satisfied, and frequently

held the hand to his nose with evident pleasure. After long

hesitation Féré asked for an explanation, which was frankly

given. As a child he had liked the odor, without knowing why. As

a young man women with strong odors had stimulated him to

extraordinary sexual exploits, and now they were the only women

who had any influence on him. He professed to be able to

recognize continence by the odor, as well as the most favorable

moment for approaching a woman. Throughout life a cold in the

head had always been accompanied by persistent general

excitement. (Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, 1902, p. 134.)

We not only have to recognize that in the course of evolution the specific

odors of the sexual region have sunk into the background as a source of

sexual allurements, we have further to recognize the significant fact that

even those personal odors which are chiefly liable under normal

circumstances to come occasionally within the conscious sexual sphere, and

indeed purely personal odors of all kinds, fail to exert any attraction,

but rather tend to cause antipathy, unless some degree of tumescence has

already been attained. That is to say, our olfactory experiences of the

human body approximate rather to our tactile experiences of it than to our

visual experiences. Sight is our most intellectual sense, and we trust

ourselves to it with comparative boldness without any undue dread that its

messages will hurt us by their personal intimacy; we even court its

experiences, for it is the chief organ of our curiosity, as smell is of a

dog's. But smell with us has ceased to be a leading channel of

intellectual curiosity. Personal odors do not, as vision does, give us

information that is very largely intellectual; they make an appeal that is

mainly of an intimate, emotional, imaginative character. They thus tend,

when we are in our normal condition, to arouse what James calls the

antisexual instinct.

"I cannot understand how people do not see how the senses are

connected," said Jenny Lind to J.A. Symonds (Horatio Brown, _J.A.

Symonds_, vol. i, p. 207). "What I have suffered from my sense of

smell! My youth was misery from my acuteness of sensibility."

Mantegazza discusses the strength of olfactory antipathies

(_Fisiologia dell' Odio_, p. 101), and mentions that once when

ill in Paraguay he was nursed by an Indian girl of 16, who was

fresh as a peach and extremely clean, but whose odor--"a mixture

of wild beast's lair and decayed onions"--caused nausea and

almost made him faint.

Moll (_Untersuchungen über die Libido Sexualis_, bd. i, p. 135)

records the case of a neuropathic man who was constantly rendered

impotent by his antipathy to personal body odors. It had very

frequently happened to him to be attracted by the face and

appearance of a girl, but at the last moment potency was

inhibited by the perception of personal odor.

In the case of a man of distinguished ability known to me,

belonging to a somewhat neuropathic family, there is extreme

sensitiveness to the smell of a woman, which is frequently the

most obvious thing to him about her. He has seldom known a woman

whose natural perfume entirely suits him, and his olfactory

impressions have frequently been the immediate cause of a rupture

of relationships.

It was formerly discussed whether strong personal odor

constituted adequate ground for divorce. Hagen, who brings

forward references on this point (_Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, pp.

75-83), considers that the body odors are normally and naturally

repulsive because they are closely associated with the capryl

group of odors, which are those of many of the excretions.

Olfactory antipathies are, however, often strictly subordinated

to the individual's general emotional attitude toward the object

from which they emanate. This is illustrated in the case, known

to me, of a man who on a hot day entering a steamboat with a

woman to whom he was attached seated himself between her and a

man, a stranger. He soon became conscious of an axillary odor

which he concluded to come from the man and which he felt as

disagreeable. But a little later he realized that it proceeded

from his own companion, and with this discovery the odor at once

lost its disagreeable character.

In this respect a personal odor resembles a personal touch. Two

intimate touches of the hand, though of precisely similar

physical quality, may in their emotional effects be separated by

an immeasurable interval, in dependence on our attitude toward

the person from whom they proceed.

Personal odor, in order to make its allurement felt, and not to arouse

antipathy, must, in normal persons, have been preceded by conditions which

have inhibited the play of the antisexual instinct. A certain degree of

tumescence must already have been attained. It is even possible, when we

bear in mind the intimate sympathy between the sexual sphere and the nose,

that the olfactory organ needs to have its sensibility modified in a form

receptive to sexual messages, though such an assumption is by no means

necessary. It is when such a faint preliminary degree of tumescence has

been attained, however it may have been attained,--for the methods of

tumescence, as we know, are innumerable,--that a sympathetic personal odor

is enabled to make its appeal. If we analyze the cases in which olfactory

perceptions have proved potent in love, we shall nearly always find that

they have been experienced under circumstances favorable for the

occurrence of tumescence. When this is not the case we may reasonably

suspect the presence of some degree of perversion.

In the oft-quoted case of the Austrian peasant who found that he

was aided in seducing young women by dancing with them and then

wiping their faces with a handkerchief he had kept in his armpit,

we may doubtless regard the preliminary excitement of the dance

as an essential factor in the influence produced.

In the same way, I am acquainted with the ease of a lady not

usually sensitive to simple body odors (though affected by

perfumes and flowers) who on one occasion, when already in a

state of sexual erethism, was highly excited when perceiving the

odor of her lover's axilla.

The same influence of preliminary excitement may be seen in

another instance known to me, that of a gentlemen who when

traveling abroad fell in with three charming young ladies during

a long railway journey. He was conscious of a pleasurable

excitement caused by the prolonged intimacy of the journey, but

this only became definitely sexual when the youngest of the

ladies, stretching before him to look out of the window and

holding on to the rack above, accidentally brought her axilla

into close proximity with his face, whereupon erection was

caused, although he himself regards personal odors, at all events

when emanating from strangers, as indifferent or repulsive.

A medical correspondent, referring to the fact that with many men

(indeed women also) sexual excitement occurs after dancing for a

considerable time, remarks that he considers the odor of the

woman's sweat is here a considerable factor.

The characteristics of olfaction which our investigation has so far

revealed have not, on the whole, been favorable to the influence of

personal odors as a sexual attraction in civilized men. It is a primitive

sense which had its flowering time before men arose; it is a comparatively

unæsthetic sense; it is a somewhat obtuse sense which among Europeans is

usually incapable of perceiving the odor of the "human flower"--to use

Goethe's phrase--except on very close contact, and on this account, and on

account of the fact that it is a predominantly emotional sense, personal

odors in ordinary social intercourse are less likely to arouse the sexual

instinct than the antisexual instinct. If a certain degree of tumescence

is required before a personal odor can exert an attractive influence, a

powerful personal odor, strong enough to be perceived before any degree of

tumescence is attained, will tend to cause repulsion, and in so doing

tend, consciously or unconsciously, to excite prejudice against personal

odor altogether. This is actually the case in civilization, and most

people, it would appear, view with more or less antipathy the personal

odors of those persons to whom they are not sexually attracted, while

their attitude is neutral in this respect toward the individuals to whom

they are sexually attracted.[51] The following statement by a

correspondent seems to me to express the experience of the majority of men

in this respect: "I do not notice that different people have different

smells. Certain women I have known have been in the habit of using

particular scents, but no associations could be aroused if I were to smell

the same scent now, for I should not identify it. As a boy I was very fond

of scent, and I associate this with my marked sexual proclivities. I like

a woman to use a little scent. It rouses my sexual feelings, but not to

any large extent. I dislike the smell of a woman's vagina." While the last

statement seems to express the feeling of many if not most men, it may be

proper to add that there seems no natural reason why the vulvar odor of a

clean and healthy woman should be other than agreeable to a normal man who

is her lover.

In literature it is the natural odor of women rather than men which

receives attention. We should expect this to be the case since literature

is chiefly produced by men. The question as to whether men or women are

really more apt to be sexually influenced in this way cannot thus be

decided. Among animals, it seems probable, both sexes are alike influenced

by odors, for, while it is usually the male whose sexual regions are

furnished with special scent glands, when such occur, the peculiar odor of

the female during the sexual season is certainly not less efficacious as

an allurement to the male. If we compare the general susceptibility of men

and women to agreeable odors, apart from the question of sexual

allurement, there can be little doubt that it is most marked among women.

As Groos points out, even among children little girls are more interested

in scents than boys, and the investigations of various workers, especially

Garbini, have shown that there is actually a greater power of

discriminating odors among girls than among boys. Marro has gone further,

and in an extended series of observations on girls before and after the

establishment of puberty--which is of considerable interest from the point

of view of the sexual significance of olfaction--he has shown reason to

believe that girls acquire an increased susceptibility to odors when

sexual life begins, although they show no such increased powers as regards

the other senses.[52] On the whole, it would appear that, while women are

not apt to be seriously affected, in the absence of any preliminary

excitation, by crude body odors, they are by no means insusceptible to the

sexual influence of olfactory impressions. It is probable, indeed, that

they are more affected, and more frequently affected, in this way, than

are men.

Edouard de Goncourt, in his novel _Chérie_--the intimate history

of a young girl, founded, he states, on much personal

observation--describes (Chapter LXXXV) the delight with which

sensuous, but chaste young girls often take in strong perfumes.

"Perfume and love," he remarks, "impart delights which are

closely allied." In an earlier chapter (XLIV) he writes of his

heroine at the age of 15: "The intimately happy emotion which the

young girl experienced in reading _Paul et Virginie_ and other

honestly amorous books she sought to make more complete and

intense and penetrating by soaking the book with scent, and the

love-story reached her senses and imagination through pages moist

with liquid perfume."

Carbini (_Archivio per l'Antropologia_, 1896, fasc. 3) in a very

thorough investigation of a large number of children, found that

the earliest osmo-gustative sensations occurred in the fourth

week in girls, the fifth week in boys; the first real and

definite olfactory sensations appeared in the fifteenth month in

girls, in the sixteenth in boys; while experiments on several

hundred children between the ages of 3 and 6 years showed the

girls slightly, but distinctly, superior to the boys. It may, of

course, be argued that these results merely show a somewhat

greater precocity of girls. I have summarized the main

investigations into this question in _Man and Woman_, revised and

enlarged edition, 1904, pp. 134-138. On the whole, they seem to

indicate greater olfactory acuteness on the part of women, but

the evidence is by no means altogether concordant in this sense.

Popular and general scientific opinion is also by no means always

in harmony. Thus, Tardif, in his book on odors in relation to the

sexual instinct, throughout assumes, as a matter of course, that

the sense of smell is most keen in men; while, on the other hand,

I note that in a pamphlet by Mr. Martin Perls, a manufacturing

perfumer, it is stated with equal confidence that "it is a

well-known fact that ladies have, even without a practice of long

standing, a keener sense of smell than men," and on this account

he employs a staff of young ladies for testing perfumes by smell

in the laboratory by the glazed paper test.

It is sometimes said that the use of strong perfumes by women

indicates a dulled olfactory organ. On the other hand, it is said

that the use of tobacco deadens the sensitiveness of the

masculine nose. Both these statements seem to be without

foundation. The use of a large amount of perfume is rather a

question of taste than a question of sensory acuteness (not to

mention that those who live in an atmosphere of perfume are, of

course, only faintly conscious of it), and the chemist perfumer

in his laboratory surrounded by strong odors can distinguish them

all with great delicacy. As regards tobacco, in Spain the

_cigarreras_ are women and girls who live perpetually in an

atmosphere of tobacco, and Señora Pardo Bazan, who knows them

well, remarks in her novel, _La Tribuna_, which deals with life

in a tobacco factory, that "the acuity of the sense of smell of

the _cigarreras_ is notable, and it would seem that instead of

blunting the nasal membrane the tobacco makes the olfactory

nerves keener."

"It was the same as if I was in a sweet apple garden, from the

sweetness that came to me when the light wind passed over them

and stirred their clothes," a woman is represented as saying

concerning a troop of handsome men in the Irish sagas (_Cuchulain

of Muirthemne_, p. 161). The pleasure and excitement experienced

by a woman in the odor of her lover is usually felt concerning a

vague and mixed odor which may be characteristic, but is not

definitely traceable to any specific bodily sexual odor. The

general odor of the man she loves, one woman states, is highly,

sometimes even overwhelmingly, attractive to her; but the

specific odor of the male sexual organs which she describes as

fishy has no attraction. A man writes that in his relations with

women he has never been able to detect that they were influenced

by the axillary or other specific odors. A woman writes: "To me

any personal odor, as that of perspiration, is very disagreeable,

and the healthy _naked_ human body is very free from any odor.

Fresh perspiration has no disagreeable smell; it is only by

retention in the clothing that it becomes objectionable. The

faint smell of smoke which lingers round men who smoke much is

rather exciting to me, but only when it is _very_ faint. If at

all strong it becomes disagreeable. As most of the men who have

attracted me have been great smokers, there is doubtless a direct

association of ideas. It has only once occurred to me that an

indifferent unpleasant smell became attractive in connection with

some particular person. In this case it was the scent of stale

tobacco, such as comes from the end of a cold cigar or cigarette.

It was, and is now, very disagreeable to me, but, for the time

and in connection with a particular person, it seemed to me more

delightful and exciting than the most delicious perfume. I think,

however, only a very strong attraction could overcome a dislike

of this sort, and I doubt if I could experience such a

twist-round if it had been a personal odor. Stale tobacco, though

nasty, conveys no mentally disagreeable idea. I mean it does not

suggest dirt or unhealthiness."

It is probably significant of the somewhat considerable part

which, in one way or another, odors and perfumes play in the

emotional life of women, that, of the 4 women whose sexual

histories are recorded in Appendix B of vol. iii of these

_Studies_, all are liable to experience sexual effects from

olfactory stimuli, 3 of them from personal odors (though this

fact is not in every case brought out in the histories as

recorded), while of the 8 men not one has considered his

olfactory experiences in this respect as worthy of mention.

The very marked sexual fascination which odor, associated with

the men they love, exerts on women has easily passed unperceived,

since women have not felt called upon to proclaim it. In sexual

inversion, however, when the woman takes a more active and

outspoken part than in normal love, it may very clearly be

traced. Here, indeed, it is often exaggerated, in consequence of

the common tendency for neurotic and neurasthenic persons to be

more than normally susceptible to the influence of odors. In the

majority of inverted women, it may safely be said, the odor of

the beloved person plays a very considerable part. Thus, one

inverted woman asks the woman she loves to send her some of her

hair that she may intoxicate herself in solitude with its perfume

(_Archivio di Psicopatie Sessuali_, vol. i, fasc. 3, p. 36).

Again, a young girl with some homosexual tendencies, was apt to

experience sexual emotions when in ordinary contact with

schoolfellows whose body odor was marked (Féré, _L'Instinct

Sexuel_, p. 260). Such examples are fairly typical.

That the body odor of men may in a large number of cases be

highly agreeable and sexually attractive is shown by the

testimony of male sexual inverts. There is abundant evidence to

this effect. Raffalovich (_L'Uranisme et l'Unisexualité_, p. 126)

insists on the importance of body odors as a sexual attraction to

the male invert, and is inclined to think that the increased odor

of the man's own body during sexual excitement may have an

auto-aphrodisiacal effect which is reflected on the body of the

loved person. The odor of peasants, of men who work in the open

air, is specially apt to be found attractive. Moll mentions the

case of an inverted man who found the "forest, mosslike odor" of

a schoolfellow irresistibly attractive.

The following passage from a letter written by an Italian marquis

has been sent to me: "Bonifazio stripped one evening, to give me

pleasure. He has the full, rounded flesh and amber coloring which

painters of the Giorgione school gave to their S. Sebastians.

When he began to dress, I took up an old _fascia_, or girdle of

netted silk, which was lying under his breeches, and which still

preserved the warmth of his body. I buried my face in it, and was

half inebriated by its exquisite aroma of young manhood and fresh

hay. He told me he had worn it for two years. No wonder it was

redolent of him. I asked him to let me keep it as a souvenir. He

smiled and said: 'You like it because it has lain so long upon my

_panoia_.' 'Yes, just so,' I replied; 'whenever I kiss it, thus

and thus, it will bring you back to me.' Sometimes I tie it round

my naked waist before I go to bed. The smell of it is enough to

cause a powerful erection, and the contact of its fringes with my

testicles and phallus has once or twice produced an involuntary

emission."

I may here reproduce a communication which has reached me

concerning the attractiveness of the odor of peasants: "One

predominant attraction of these men is that they are pure and

clean; their bodies in a state of healthy normal function. Then

they possess, if they are temperate, what the Greek poet Straton

called the phydikê chrôtos (a quality which, according to this

authority, is never found in women). This 'natural fair perfume

of the flesh' is a peculiar attribute of young men who live in

the open air and deal with natural objects. Even their

perspiration has an odor very different from that of girls in

ball-rooms: more refined, ethereal, pervasive, delicate, and

difficult to seize. When they have handled hay--in the time of

hay-harvest, or in winter, when they bring hay down from mountain

huts--the youthful peasants carry about with them the smell of 'a

field the Lord hath blessed.' Their bodies and their clothes

exhale an indefinable fragrance of purity and sex combined. Every

gland of the robust frame seems to have accumulated scent from

herbs and grasses, which slowly exudes from the cool, fresh skin

of the lad. You do not perceive it in a room. You must take the

young man's hands and bury your face in them, or be covered with

him under the same blanket in one bed, to feel this aroma. No

sensual impression on the nerves of smell is more poignantly

impregnated with spiritual poetry--the poetry of adolescence, and

early hours upon the hills, and labor cheerfully accomplished,

and the harvest of God's gifts to man brought home by human

industry. It is worth mentioning that Aristophanes, in his

description of the perfect Athenian Ephebus, dwells upon his

being redolent of natural perfumes."

In a passage in the second part of _Faust_ Goethe (who appears to

have felt considerable interest in the psychology of smell) makes

three women speak concerning the ambrosiacal odor of young men.

In this connection, also, I note a passage in a poem ("Appleton

House") by our own English poet Marvell, which it is of interest

to quote:--

"And now the careless victors play,

Dancing the triumphs of the hay,

When every mower's wholesome heat

Smells like an Alexander's sweat.

Their females fragrant as the mead

Which they in fairy circles tread,

When at their dance's end they kiss,

Their new-mown hay not sweeter is."

FOOTNOTES:

[30] R. Andree, "Völkergeruch," in _Ethnographische Parallelen_, Neue

Folge, 1889, pp. 213-222, brings together many passages describing the

odors of various peoples. Hagen, _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, pp. 166 et

seq., has a chapter on the subject; Joest, supplement to _International

Archiv für Ethnographie_, 1893, p. 53, has an interesting passage on the

smells of various races, as also Waitz, _Introduction to Anthropology_, p.

103. Cf. Sir H.H. Johnston, _British Central Africa_, p. 395; T.H. Parke,

_Experiences in Equatorial Africa_, p. 409; E.H. Man, _Journal of the

Anthropological Institute_, 1889, p. 391; Brough Smyth, _Aborigines of

Victoria_, vol. i, p. 7; d'Orbigny, _L'Homme Américain_, vol. i, p. 87,

etc.

[31] B. Adachi "Geruch der Europaer," _Globus_, 1903, No. 1.

[32] Hagen quotes testimonies on this point, _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, p.

173. The negro, Castellani states, considers that Europeans have a smell

of death.

[33] _Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition_, vol. ii, p.

181.

[34] Waitz, _Introduction to Anthropology_, p. 103.

[35] Monin, _Les Odeurs du Corps Humain_, second edition, Paris, 1886,

discusses briefly but comprehensively the normal and more especially the

pathological odors of the body and of its secretions and excretions.

[36] Venturi, _Degenerazione Psicho-sessuale_, p. 417.

[37] Quoted by Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, 1902, p. 133.

[38] H. Ling Roth, "On Salutations," _Journal of the Anthropological

Institute_, November, 1889.

[39] See Appendix A: "The Origins of the Kiss."

[40] See, e.g., passage quoted by I. Bloch, _Beiträge zur Ætiologie der

Psychopathia Sexualis_, Teil II, p. 205.

[41] It must at the same time be remembered that the more or less degree

of exposure involved by sexual intercourse is itself a cause of nasal

congestion and sneezing.

[42] Féré, _Pathologie des Emotions_, p. 81

[43] J.N. Mackenzie similarly suggests (_Johns Hopkins Hospital Bulletin_,

No. 82, 1898) that "irritation and congestion of the nasal mucous membrane

precede, or are the excitants of, the olfactory impression that forms the

connecting link between the sense of smell and erethism of the

reproductive organs exhibited in the lower animals."

[44] _Les Odeurs dans les Romans de Zola_, Montpellier, 1889.

[45] Toulouse, _Emile Zola_, pp. 163-165, 173-175.

[46] P.J. Möbius, _Das Pathologische bei Nietzsche_.

[47] Moll has a passage on the sense of smell in the blind, more

especially in sexual respects, _Untersuchungen über die Libido Sexualis_,

bd. 1, pp. 137 et seq.

[48] See, for instance, his poem, "Love Perfumes all Parts," in which he

declares that "Hands and thighs and legs are all richly aromatical." And

compare the lyrics entitled "A Song to the Maskers," "On Julia's Breath,"

"Upon Julia's Unlacing Herself," "Upon Julia's Sweat," and "To Mistress

Anne Soame."

[49] There are various indications that Goethe was attentive to the

attraction of personal odors; and that he experienced this attraction

himself is shown by the fact that, as he confessed, when he once had to

leave Weimar on an official journey for two days he took a bodice of Frau

von Stein's away in order to carry the scent of her body with him.

[50] Hagen has brought together from the literature of the subject a

number of typical cases of olfactory fetichism, _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_,

1901, pp. 82 et seq.

[51] Moll's inquiries among normal persons have also shown that few people

are conscious of odor as a sexual attraction. (_Untersuchungen über die

Libido Sexualis_. Bd. I, p. 133.)

[52] Marro, _La, Pubertà_, 1898, Chapter II. Tardif found in boys that

perfumes exerted little or no influence on circulation and respiration

before puberty, though his observations on this point were too few to

carry weight.

IV.

The Influence of Perfumes--Their Aboriginal Relationship to Sexual Body

Odors--This True even of the Fragrance of Flowers--The Synthetic

Manufacture of Perfumes--The Sexual Effects of Perfumes--Perfumes perhaps

Originally Used to Heighten the Body Odors--The Special Significance of

the Musk Odor--Its Wide Natural Diffusion in Plants and Animals and

Man--Musk a Powerful Stimulant--Its Widespread Use as a Perfume--Peau

d'Espagne--The Smell of Leather and its Occasional Sexual Effects--The

Sexual Influence of the Odors of Flowers--The Identity of many Plant Odors

with Certain Normal and Abnormal Body Odors--The Smell of Semen in this

Connection.

So far we have been mainly concerned with purely personal odors. It is,

however, no longer possible to confine the discussion of the sexual

significance of odor within the purely animal limit. The various

characteristics of personal odor which have been noted--alike those which

tend to make it repulsive and those which tend to make it attractive--have

led to the use of artificial perfumes, to heighten the natural odor when

it is regarded as attractive, to disguise it when it is regarded as

repellent; while at the same time, happily covering both of these

impulses, has developed the pure delight in perfume for its own

agreeableness, the æsthetic side of olfaction. In this way--although in a

much less constant and less elaborate manner--the body became adorned to

the sense of smell just as by clothing and ornament it is adorned to the

sense of sight.

But--and this is a point of great significance from our present

standpoint--we do not really leave the sexual sphere by introducing

artificial perfumes. The perfumes which we extract from natural products,

or, as is now frequently the case, produce by chemical synthesis, are

themselves either actually animal sexual odors or allied in character or

composition, to the personal odors they are used to heighten or disguise.

Musk is the product of glands of the male _Moschus moschiferus_ which

correspond to preputial sebaceous glands; castoreum is the product of

similar sexual glands in the beaver, and civet likewise from the civet;

ambergris is an intestinal calculus found in the rectum of the

cachelot.[53] Not only, however, are nearly all the perfumes of animal

origin, in use by civilized man, odors which have a specially sexual

object among the animals from which they are derived, but even the

perfumes of flowers may be said to be of sexual character. They are given

out at the reproductive period in the lives of plants, and they clearly

have very largely as their object an appeal to the insects who secure

plant fertilization, such appeal having as its basis the fact that among

insects themselves olfactory sensibility has in many cases been developed

in their own mating.[54] There is, for example, a moth in which both sexes

are similarly and inconspicuously marked, but the males diffuse an

agreeable odor, said to be like pineapple, which attracts the females.[55]

If, therefore, the odors of flowers have developed because they proved

useful to the plant by attracting insects or other living creatures, it is

obvious that the advantage would lie with those plants which could put

forth an animal sexual odor of agreeable character, since such an odor

would prove fascinating to animal creatures. We here have a very simple

explanation of the fundamental identity of odors in the animal and

vegetable worlds. It thus comes about that from a psychological point of

view we are not really entering a new field when we begin to discuss the

influence of perfumes other than those of the animal body. We are merely

concerned with somewhat more complex or somewhat more refined sexual

odors; they are not specifically different from the human odors and they

mingle with them harmoniously. Popular language bears witness to the

truth of this statement, and the normal and abnormal human odors, as we

have already seen, are constantly compared to artificial, animal, and

plant odors, to chloroform, to musk, to violet, to mention only those

similitudes which seem to occur most frequently.

The methods now employed for obtaining the perfumes universally

used in civilized lands are three: (1) the extraction of

odoriferous compounds from the neutral products in which they

occur; (2) the artificial preparation of naturally occurring

odoriferous compounds by synthetic processes; (3) the manufacture

of materials which yield odors resembling those of pleasant

smelling natural objects. (See, e.g., "Natural and Artificial

Perfumes," _Nature_, December 27, 1900.) The essential principles

of most of our perfumes belong to the complex class of organic

compounds known as terpenes. During recent years a number of the

essential elements of natural perfumes have been studied, in many

cases the methods of preparing them artificially discovered, and

they are largely replacing the use of natural perfumes not only

for soaps, etc., but for scent essences, though it appears to be

very difficult to imitate exactly the delicate fragrance achieved

by Nature. Artificial musk was discovered accidentally by Bauer

when studying the butyltoluenes contained in a resin extractive.

Vanillin, the odoriferous principle of the vanilla bean, is an

aldehyde which was first artificially prepared by Tiemann and

Haarmann in 1874 by oxidizing coniferin, a glucoside contained in

the sap of various coniferæ, but it now appears to be usually

manufactured from eugenol, a phenol contained in oil of cloves.

Piperonal, an aldehyde closely allied to vanillin, is used in

perfumery under the name of heliotropin and is prepared from oil

of sassafras and oil of camphor. Cumarine, the material to which

tonka bean, sweet woodruff, and new-mown hay owe their

characteristic odors, was synthetically prepared by W.H. Parkin

in 1868 by heating sodiosalicylic aldehyde with acetic anhydride,

though now more cheaply prepared from an herb growing in Florida.

Irone, which has the perfume of violets, was isolated in 1893

from a ketone contained in orris-root; and ionone, another ketone

which has a very closely similar odor of fresh violets and was

isolated after some years' further work, is largely used in the

preparation of violet perfume. Irone and ionone are closely

similar in composition to oil of turpentine which when taken into

the body is partly converted into perfume and gives a strong odor

of violets to the urine. "Little has yet been accomplished toward

ascertaining the relation between the odor and the chemical

constitution of substances in general. Hydrocarbons as a class

possess considerable similarity in odor, so also do the organic

sulphides and, to a much smaller extent, the ketones. The

subject waits for some one to correlate its various

physiological, psychological and physical aspects in the same way

that Helmholtz did for sound. It seems, as yet, impossible to

assign any probable reason to the fact that many substances have

a pleasant odor. It may, however, be worth suggesting that

certain compounds, such as the volatile sulphides and the

indoles, have very unpleasant odors because they are normal

constituents of mammalian excreta and of putrefied animal

products; the repulsive odors may be simply necessary results of

evolutionary processes." (_Loc. cit._, _Nature_, December 27,

1900.)

Many of the perfumes in use are really combinations of a great

many different odors in varying proportions, such as oil of rose,

lavender oil, ylang-ylang, etc. The most highly appreciated

perfumes are often made up of elements which in stronger

proportion would be regarded as highly unpleasant.

In the study and manufacture of perfumes Germany and France have

taken the lead in recent times. The industry is one of great

importance. In France alone the trade in perfumes amounts to

£4,000,000.

It is doubtless largely owing to the essential and fundamental identity of

odors--to the chemical resemblances even of odors from the most widely

remote sources--that we find that perfumes in many cases have the same

sexual effects as are primitively possessed by the body odors. In northern

countries, where the use of perfumes is chiefly cultivated by women, it is

by women that this sexual influence is most liable to be felt. In the

South and in the East it appears to be at least equally often experienced

by men. Thus, in Italy Mantegazza remarks that "many men of strong sexual

temperament cannot visit with impunity a laboratory of essences and

perfumes."[56] In the East we find it stated in the Islamic book entitled

_The Perfumed Garden of Sheik Nefzaoui_ that the use of perfumes by women,

as well as by men, excites to the generative act. It is largely in

reliance on this fact that in many parts of the world, especially among

Eastern peoples and occasionally among ourselves in Europe, women have

been accustomed to perfume the body and especially the vulva.[57]

It seems highly probable that, as has been especially emphasized by Hagen,

perfumes were primitively used by women, not as is sometimes the case in

civilization, with the idea of disguising any possible natural odor, but

with the object of heightening and fortifying the natural odor.[58] If the

primitive man was inclined to disparage a woman whose odor was slight or

imperceptible,--turning away from her with contempt, as the Polynesian

turned away from the ladies of Sydney: "They have no smell!"--women would

inevitably seek to supplement any natural defects in this respect, and to

accentuate their odorous qualities, in the same way as by corsets and

bustles, even in civilization, they have sought to accentuate the sexual

saliencies of their bodies. In this way we may, as Hagen suggests, explain

the fact that until recent times the odors preferred by women have not

been the most delicate or exquisite, but the strongest, the most animal,

the most sexual: musk, castoreum, civet, and ambergris.

In that interesting novel--dealing with the adventures of a

Jewish maiden at the Persian court of Xerxes--which under the

title of _Esther_ has found its way into the Old Testament we are

told that it was customary in the royal harem at Shushan to

submit the women to a very prolonged course of perfuming before

they were admitted to the king: "six months with oil of myrrh and

six months with sweet odors." (_Esther_, Chapter II, v. 12.)

In the _Arabian Nights_ there are many allusions to the use of

perfumes by women with a more or less definitely stated

aphrodisiacal intent. Thus we read in the story of Kamaralzaman:

"With fine incense I will perfume my breasts, my belly, my whole

body, so that my skin may melt more sweetly in thy mouth, O apple

of my eye!"

Even among savages the perfuming of the body is sometimes

practiced with the object of inducing love in the partner.

Schellong states that the Papuans of Kaiser Wilhelm's Land rub

various fragrant plants into their bodies for this purpose.

(_Zeitschrift für Ethnologie_, 1899, ht. i, p. 19.) The

significance of this practice is more fully revealed by Haddon

when studying the Papuans of Torres Straits among whom the

initiative in courtship is taken by the women. It was by scenting

himself with a pungent odorous substance that a young man

indicated that he was ready to be sued by the girls. A man would

wear this scent at the back of his neck during a dance in order

to attract the attention of a particular girl; it was believed to

act with magical certainty, after the manner of a charm (_Reports

of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits_,

vol. v, pp. 211, 222, and 328).

The perfume which is of all perfumes the most interesting from the present

point of view is certainly musk. With ambergris, musk is the chief member

of Linnæus's group of _Odores ambrosiacæ_, a group which in sexual

significances, as Zwaardemaker remarks, ranks besides the capryl group of

odors. It is a perfume of ancient origin; its name is Persian[59]

(indicating doubtless the channel whence it reached Europe) and ultimately

derived from the Sanskrit word for testicle in allusion to the fact that

it was contained in a pouch removed from the sexual parts of the male

musk-deer. Musk odors, however, often of considerable strength, are very

widely distributed in Nature, alike among animals and plants. This is

indicated by the frequency with which the word "musk" forms part of the

names of animals and plants which are by no means always nearly related.

We have the musk-ox, the musky mole, several species called musk-rat, the

musk-duct, the musk-beetle; while among plants which have received their

names from a real or supposed musky odor are, besides several that are

called musk-plant, the musk-rose, the musk-hyacinth, the musk-mallow, the

musk-orchid, the musk-melon, the musk-cherry, the musk-pear, the

musk-plum, muskat and muscatels, musk-seed, musk-tree, musk-wood, etc.[60]

But a musky odor is not merely widespread in Nature among plants and the

lower animals, it is peculiarly associated with man. Incidentally we have

already seen how it is regarded as characteristic of some races of man,

especially the Chinese. Moreover, the smell of the negress is said to be

musky in character, and among Europeans a musky odor is said to be

characteristic of blondes. Laycock, in his _Nervous Diseases of Women_,

stated his opinion that "the musk odor is certainly the sexual odor of

man"; and Féré states that the musk odor is that among natural perfumes

most nearly approaching the odor of the sexual secretions. We have seen

that the Chinese poet vaunts the musky odor of his mistress's armpits,

while another Oriental saying concerning the attractive woman is that "her

navel is filled with musk." Persian literature contains many references to

musk as an attractive body odor, and Firdusi speaks of a woman's hair as

"a crown of musk," while the Arabian poet Motannabi says of his mistress

that "her hyacinthine hair smells sweeter than Scythian musk." Galopin

stated that he knew women whose natural odor of musk (and less frequently

of ambergris) was sufficiently strong to impart to a bath in less than an

hour a perfume due entirely to the exhalations of the musky body; it must

be added that Galopin was an enthusiast in this matter.

The special significance of musk from our present point of view lies not

only in the fact that we here have a perfume, widely scattered throughout

nature and often in an agreeable form, which is at the same time a very

frequent personal odor in man. Musk is the odor which not only in the

animals to which it has given a name, but in many others, is a

specifically sexual odor, chiefly emitted during the sexual season. The

sexual odors, indeed, of most animals seem to be modifications of musk.

The Sphinx moth has a musky odor which is confined to the male and is

doubtless sexual. Some lizards have a musky odor which is heightened at

the sexual season; crocodiles during the pairing season emit from their

submaxillary glands a musky odor which pervades their haunts. In the same

way elephants emit a musky odor from their facial glands during the

rutting season. The odor of the musk-duck is chiefly confined to the

breeding season.[61] The musky odor of the negress is said to be

heightened during sexual excitement.

The predominance of musk as a sexual odor is associated with the fact that

its actual nervous influence, apart from the presence of sexual

association, is very considerable. Féré found it to be a powerful muscular

stimulant. In former times musk enjoyed a high reputation as a cardiac

stimulant; it fell into disuse, but in recent years its use in asthenic

states has been revived, and excellent results, it has been claimed, have

followed its administration in cases of collapse from Asiatic cholera. For

sexual torpor in women it still has (like vanilla and sandal) a certain

degree of reputation, though it is not often used, and some of the old

Arabian physicians (especially Avicenna) recommended it, with castoreum

and myrrh, for amenorrhoea. Its powerful action is indicated by the

experience of Esquirol, who stated that he had seen cases in which sensory

stimulation by musk in women during lactation had produced mania. It has

always had the reputation, more especially in the Mohammedan East, of

being a sexual stimulant to men; "the noblest of perfumes," it is called

in _El Ktab_, "and that which most provokes to venery."

It is doubtless a fact significant of the special sexual effects of musk

that, as Laycock remarked, in cases of special idiosyncrasy to odors, musk

appears to be that odor which is most liked or disliked. Thus, the old

English physician Whytt remarked that "several delicate women who could

easily bear the stronger smell of tobacco have been thrown into fits by

musk, ambergris, or a pale rose."[62] It may be remarked that in the

_Perfumed Garden of Sheik Nefzaoui_ it is stated that it is by their

sexual effects that perfumes tend to throw women into a kind of swoon, and

Lucretius remarks that a woman who smells castoreum, another animal sexual

perfume, at the time of her menstrual period may swoon.[63]

Not only is musk the most cherished perfume of the Islamic world, and the

special favorite of the Prophet himself, who greatly delighted in perfumes

("I love your world," he is reported to have said in old age, "for its

women and its perfumes"),[64] it is the only perfume generally used by the

women of a land in which the refinements of life have been carried so far

as Japan, and they received it from the Chinese.[65]

Moreover, musk is still the most popular of European perfumes. It is the

perfumes containing musk, Piesse states in his well-known book on the _Art

of Perfumery_, which sell best. It is certainly true that in its simple

form the odor of musk is not nowadays highly considered in Europe. This

fact is connected with the ever-growing refinement in accordance with

which the specific odors of the sexual regions in human beings tend to

lose their primitive attractiveness and bodily odors generally become

mingled with artificial perfumes and so disguised. But, although musk in

its simple form, and under its ancient name, has lost its hold in Europe,

it is an interesting and significant fact that it is still the perfumes

which contain musk that are the most widely popular.

Peau d'Espagne may be mentioned as a highly complex and luxurious perfume,

often the favorite scent of sensuous persons, which really owes a large

part of its potency to the presence of the crude animal sexual odors of

musk and civet. It consists of wash-leather steeped in ottos of neroli,

rose, santal, lavender, verbena, bergamot, cloves, and cinnamon,

subsequently smeared with civet and musk. It is said by some, probably

with a certain degree of truth, that Peau d'Espagne is of all perfumes

that which most nearly approaches the odor of a woman's skin; whether it

also suggests the odor of leather is not so clear.

There is, however, no doubt that the smell of leather has a curiously

stimulating sexual influence on many men and women. It is an odor which

seems to occupy an intermediate place between the natural body odors and

the artificial perfumes for which it sometimes serves as a basis; possibly

it is to this fact that its occasional sexual influence is owing, for, as

we have already seen, there is a tendency for sexual allurement to attach

to odors which are not the specific personal body odors but yet are

related to them. Moll considers, no doubt rightly, that shoe fetichism,

perhaps the most frequent of sexual fetichistic perversions, is greatly

favored, if, indeed, it does not owe its origin to, the associated odor of

the feet and of the shoes.[66] He narrates a case of shoe fetichism in a

man in which the perversion began at the age of 6; when for the first time

he wore new shoes, having previously used only the left-off shoes of his

elder brother; he felt and smelt these new shoes with sensations of

unmeasured pleasure; and a few years later began to use shoes as a method

of masturbation.[67] Näcke has also recorded the case of a shoe fetichist

who declared that the sexual attraction of shoes (usually his wife's) lay

largely in the odor of the leather.[68] Krafft-Ebing, again, brings

forward a case of shoe fetichism in which the significant fact is

mentioned that the subject bought a pair of leather cuffs to smell while

masturbating.[69] Restif de la Bretonne, who was somewhat of a shoe

fetichist, appears to have enjoyed smelling shoes. It is not probable that

the odor of leather explains the whole of shoe fetichism,--as we shall see

when, in another "Study," this question comes before us--and in many cases

it cannot be said to enter at all; it is, however, one of the factors.

Such a conclusion is further supported by the fact that by many the odor

of new shoes is sometimes desired as an adjuvant to coitus. It is in the

experience of prostitutes that such a device is not infrequent. Näcke

mentions that a colleague of his was informed by a prostitute that several

of her clients desired the odor of new shoes in the room, and that she was

accustomed to obtain the desired perfume by holding her shoes for a moment

over the flame of a spirit lamp.

The direct sexual influence of the odor of leather is, however, more

conclusively proved by those instances in which it exists apart from shoes

or other objects having any connection with the human body. I have

elsewhere in these "Studies"[71] recorded the case of a lady, entirely

normal in sexual and other respects, who is conscious of a considerable

degree of pleasurable sexual excitement in the presence of the smell of

leather objects, more especially of leather-bound ledgers and in shops

where leather objects are sold. She thinks this dates from the period

when, as a child of 9, she was sometimes left alone for a time on a high

stool in an office. A possible explanation in this case lies in the

supposition that on one of these early occasions sexual excitement was

produced by the contact with the stool (in a way that is not infrequent in

young girls) and that the accidentally associated odor of leather

permanently affected the nervous system, while the really significant

contact left no permanent impression. Even on such a supposition it might,

however, still be maintained that a real potency of the leather odor is

illustrated by this case, and this is likewise suggested by the fact that

the same subject is also sexually affected by various perfumes and odorous

flowers not recalling leather.[70]

It has been suggested to me by a lady that the odor of leather suggests

that of the sexual organs. The same suggestion is made by Hagen,[72] and I

find it stated by Gould and Pyle that menstruating girls sometimes smell

of leather. The secret of its influence may thus be not altogether

obscure; in the fact that leather is animal skin, and that it may thus

vaguely stir the olfactory sensibilities which had been ancestrally

affected by the sexual stimulus of the skin odor lies the probable

foundation of the mystery.

In the absence of all suggestion of personal or animal odors, in its most

exquisite forms in the fragrance of flowers, olfactory sensations are

still very frequently of a voluptuous character. Mantegazza has remarked

that it is a proof of the close connection between the sense of smell and

the sexual organs that the expression of pleasure produced by olfaction

resembles the expression of sexual pleasures.[73] Make the chastest woman

smell the flowers she likes best, he remarks, and she will close her eyes,

breathe deeply, and, if very sensitive, tremble all over, presenting an

intimate picture which otherwise she never shows, except perhaps to her

lover. He mentions a lady who said: "I sometimes feel such pleasure in

smelling flowers that I seem to be committing a sin."[74] It is really the

case that in many persons--usually, if not exclusively, women--the odor of

flowers produces not only a highly pleasurable, but a distinctly and

specifically sexual, effect. I have met with numerous cases in which this

effect was well marked. It is usually white flowers with heavy,

penetrating odors which exert this influence. Thus, one lady (who is

similarly affected by various perfumes, forget-me-nots, ylang-ylang,

etc.) finds that a number of flowers produce on her a definite sexual

effect, with moistening of the pudenda. This effect is especially produced

by white flowers like the gardenia, tuberose, etc. Another lady, who lives

in India, has a similar experience with flowers. She writes: A scent to

cause me sexual excitement must be somewhat heavy and _penetrating_.

Nearly all white flowers so affect me and many Indian flowers with heavy,

almost pungent scents. (All the flower scents are quite unconnected with

me with any individual.) Tuberose, lilies of the valley, and frangipani

flowers have an almost intoxicating effect on me. Violets, roses,

mignonette, and many others, though very delicious, give me no sexual

feeling at all. For this reason the line, 'The lilies and languors of

virtue for the roses and raptures of vice' seems all wrong to me. The lily

seems to me a very sensual flower, while the rose and its scent seem very

good and countrified and virtuous. Shelley's description of the lily of

the valley, 'whom youth makes so fair and _passion_ so pale,' falls in

much more with my ideas. "I can quite understand," she adds, "that

leather, especially of books, might have an exciting effect, as the smell

has this _penetrating_ quality, but I do not think it produces any special

feeling in me." This more sensuous character of white flowers is fairly

obvious to many persons who do not experience from them any specifically

sexual effects. To some people lilies have an odor which they describe as

sexual, although these persons may be quite unaware that Hindu authors

long since described the vulvar secretion of the _Padmini_, or perfect

woman, during coitus, as "perfumed like the lily that has newly

burst."[75] It is noteworthy that it was more especially the white

flowers--lily, tuberose, etc.--which were long ago noted by Cloquet as

liable to cause various unpleasant nervous effects, cardiac oppression and

syncope.[76]

When we are concerned with the fragrances of flowers it would seem that we

are far removed from the human sexual field, and that their sexual effects

are inexplicable. It is not so. The animal and vegetable odors, as,

indeed, we have already seen, are very closely connected. The recorded

cases are very numerous in which human persons have exhaled from their

skins--sometimes in a very pronounced degree--the odors of plants and

flowers, of violets, of roses, of pineapple, of vanilla. On the other

hand, there are various plant odors which distinctly recall, not merely

the general odor of the human body, but even the specifically sexual

odors. A rare garden weed, the stinking goosefoot, _Chenopodium vulvaria_,

it is well known, possesses a herring brine or putrid fish odor--due, it

appears, to propylamin, which is also found in the flowers of the common

white thorn or mayflower (_Cratægus oxyacantha_) and many others of the

_Rosaceæ_--which recalls the odor of the animal and human sexual

regions.[77] The reason is that both plant and animal odors belong

chemically to the same group of capryl odors (Linnæus's _Odores hircini_),

so called from the goat, the most important group of odors from the sexual

point of view. Caproic and capryl acid are contained not only in the odor

of the goat and in human sweat, and in animal products as many cheeses,

but also in various plants, such as Herb Robert (_Geranium robertianum_),

and the Stinking St. John's worts (_Hypericum hircinum_), as well as the

_Chenopodium_. Zwaardemaker considers it probable that the odor of the

vagina belongs to the same group, as well as the odor of semen (which

Haller called _odor aphrodisiacus_), which last odor is also found, as

Cloquet pointed out, in the flowers of the common berberry (_Berberis

vulgaris_) and in the chestnut. A very remarkable and significant example

of the same odor seems to occur in the case of the flowers of the henna

plant, the white-flowered Lawsonia (_Lawsonia inermis_), so widely used in

some Mohammedan lands for dyeing the nails and other parts of the body.

"These flowers diffuse the sweetest odor," wrote Sonnini in Egypt a

century ago; "the women delight to wear them, to adorn their houses with

them, to carry them to the baths, to hold them in their hands, and to

perfume their bosoms with them. They cannot patiently endure that

Christian and Jewish women shall share the privilege with them. It is very

remarkable that the perfume of the henna flowers, when closely inhaled, is

almost entirely lost in a very decided spermatic odor. If the flowers are

crushed between the fingers this odor prevails, and is, indeed, the only

one perceptible. It is not surprising that so delicious a flower has

furnished Oriental poetry with many charming traits and amorous similes."

Such a simile Sonnini finds in the _Song of Songs_, i. 13-14.[78]

The odor of semen has not been investigated, but, according to

Zwaardemaker, artificially produced odors (like cadaverin) resemble it.

The odor of the leguminous fenugreek, a botanical friend considers,

closely approaches the odor given off in some cases by the armpit in

women. It is noteworthy that fenugreek contains cumarine, which imparts

its fragrance to new-mown hay and to various flowers of somewhat similar

odor. On some persons these have a sexually exciting effect, and it is of

considerable interest to observe that they recall to many the odor of

semen. "It seems very natural," a lady writes, "that flowers, etc., should

have an exciting effect, as the original and by far the pleasantest way of

love-making was in the open among flowers and fields; but a more purely

physical reason may, I think, be found in the exact resemblance between

the scent of semen and that of the pollen of flowering grasses. The first

time I became aware of this resemblance it came on me with a rush that

here was the explanation of the very exciting effect of a field of

flowering grasses and, perhaps through them, of the scents of other

flowers. If I am right, I suppose flower scents should affect women more

powerfully than men in a sexual way. I do not think anyone would be likely

to notice the odor of semen in this connection unless they had been

greatly struck by the exciting effects of the pollen of grasses. I had

often noticed it and puzzled over it." As pollen is the male sexual

element of flowers, its occasionally stimulating effect in this direction

is perhaps but an accidental result of a unity running through the organic

world, though it may be perhaps more simply explained as a special form of

that nasal irritation which is felt by so many persons in a hay-field.

Another correspondent, this time a man, tells me that he has noted the

resemblance of the odor of semen to that of crushed grasses. A scientific

friend who has done much work in the field of organic chemistry tells me

he associates the odor of semen with that produced by diastasic action on

mixing flour and water, which he regards as sexual in character. This

again brings us to the starchy products of the leguminous plants. It is

evident that, subtle and obscure as many questions in the physiology and

psychology of olfaction still remain, we cannot easily escape from their

sexual associations.

FOOTNOTES:

[53] H. Beauregard, _Matière Médicale Zoölogique: Histoire des Drogues

d'origine Animate_, 1901.

[54] Professor Plateau, of Ghent, has for many years carried on a series

of experiments which would even tend to show that insects are scarcely

attracted by the colors of flowers at all, but mainly influenced by a

sense which would appear to be smell. His experiments have been recorded

during recent years (from 1887) in the _Bulletins de l'Académie Royale de

Belgique_, and have from time to time been summarized in _Nature_, e.g.,

February 5, 1903.

[55] David Sharp, _Cambridge Natural History: Insects_, Part II, p. 398.

[56] Mantegazza, _Fisiologia dell' Amore_, 1873, p. 176.

[57] Mantegazza (_L'Amour dans l'Humanité_, p. 94) refers to various

peoples who practice this last custom. Egypt was a great centre of the

practice more than 3000 years ago.

[58] Hagen, _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, 1901, p. 226. It has been suggested

to me by a medical correspondent that one of the primitive objects of the

hair, alike on head, mons veneris, and axilla, was to collect sweat and

heighten its odor to sexual ends.

[59] The names of all our chief perfumes are Arabic or Persian: civet,

musk, ambergris, attar, camphor, etc.

[60] Cloquet (_Osphrésiologie_, pp. 73-76) has an interesting passage on

the prevalence of the musk odor in animals, plants, and even mineral

substances.

[61] Laycock brings together various instances of the sexual odors of

animals, insisting on their musky character (_Nervous Diseases of Women_;

section, "Odors"). See also a section in the _Descent of Man_ (Part II,

Chapter XVIII), in which Darwin argues that "the most odoriferous males

are the most successful in winning the females." Distant also has an

interesting paper on this subject, "Biological Suggestions," _Zoölogist_,

May, 1902; he points out the significant fact that musky odors are usually

confined to the male, and argues that animal odors generally are more

often attractive than protective.

[62] R. Whytt, _Works_, 1768, p. 543.

[63] Lucretius, VI, 790-5.

[64] Mohammed, said Ayesha, was very fond of perfumes, especially "men's

scents," musk and ambergris. He used also to burn camphor on odoriferous

wood and enjoy the fragrant smell, while he never refused perfumes when

offered them as a present. The things he cared for most, said Ayesha, were

women, scents, and foods. Muir, _Life of Mahomet_, vol. iii, p. 297.

[65] H. ten Kate, _International Centralblatt für Anthropologie_, Ht. 6,

1902. This author, who made observations on Japanese with Zwaardemaker's

olfactometer, found that, contrary to an opinion sometimes stated, they

have a somewhat defective sense of smell. He remarks that there are no

really native Japanese perfumes.

[66] Moll: _Die Konträre Sexualempfindung_, third edition, 1890, p. 306.

[67] Moll: _Libido Sexualis_, bd. 1, p. 284.

[68] P. Näcke, "Un Cas de Fetichisme de Souliers," _Bulletin de la Société

de Médecine Mentale de Belgique_, 1894.

[69] _Psychopathia Sexualis_, English edition, p. 167.

[70] Philip Salmuth (_Observationes Medicæ_, Centuria II, no. 63) in the

seventeenth century recorded a case in which a young girl of noble birth

(whose sister was fond of eating chalk, cinnamon, and cloves) experienced

extreme pleasure in smelling old books. It would appear, however, that in

this case the fascination lay not so much in the odor of the leather as in

the mouldy odor of worm-eaten books; "_fætore veterum liborum, a blattis

et tineis exesorum, situque prorsus corruptorum_" are Salmuth's words.

[71] _Studies in the Psychology of Sex_, vol. iii, "Appendix B, History

VIII."

[72] _Sexuelle Osphrésiologie_, p. 106.

[73] Mantegazza, _Fisiologia dell' Amore_, p. 176.

[74] In this connection I may quote the remark of the writer of a

thoughtful article in the _Journal of Psychological Medicine_, 1851: "The

use of scents, especially those allied to the musky, is one of the

luxuries of women, and in some constitutions cannot be indulged without

some danger to the morals, by the excitement to the ovaria which results.

And although less potent as aphrodisiacs in their action on the sexual

system of women than of men, we have reason to think that they cannot be

used to excess with impunity by most."

[75] _Kama Sutra_ of Vatsyayana, 1883, p. 5.

[76] Cloquet, _Osphrésiologie_, p. 95.

[77] In Normandy the _Chenopodium_, it is said, is called "conio," and in

Italy erba connina (con, cunnus), on account of its vulvar odor. The

attraction of dogs to this plant has been noted. In the same way cats are

irresistibly attracted to preparations of valerian because their own urine

contains valerianic acid.

[78] Sonnini, _Voyage dans la Haute et Basse Egypte_, 1799, vol. i. p.

298.

V.

The Evil Effects of Excessive Olfactory Stimulation--The Symptoms of

Vanillism--The Occasional Dangerous Results of the Odors of

Flowers--Effects of Flowers on the Voice.

The reality of the olfactory influences with which we have been concerned,

however slight they may sometimes appear, is shown by the fact that odors,

both agreeable and disagreeable, are stimulants, obeying the laws which

hold good for stimulants generally. They whip up the nervous energies

momentarily, but in the end, if the excitation is excessive and prolonged,

they produce fatigue and exhaustion. This is clearly shown by Féré's

elaborate experiments on the influences of odors, as compared with other

sensory stimulants, on the amount of muscular work performed with the

ergograph.[79] Commenting on the remark of Bernardin de Saint-Pierre, that

"man uses perfumes to impart energy to his passion," Féré remarks: "But

perfumes cannot keep up the fires which they light." Their prolonged use

involves fatigue, which is not different from that produced by excessive

work, and reproduces all the bodily and psychic accompaniments of

excessive work.[80] It is well known that workers in perfumes are apt to

suffer from the inhalation of the odors amid which they live. Dealers in

musk are said to be specially liable to precocious dementia. The symptoms

generally experienced by the men and women who work in vanilla factories

where the crude fruit is prepared for commerce have often been studied and

are well known. They are due to the inhalation of the scent, which has all

the properties of the aromatic aldehydes, and include skin eruptions,[81]

general excitement, sleeplessness, headache, excessive menstruation, and

irritable bladder. There is nearly always sexual excitement, which may be

very pronounced.[82]

We are here in the presence, it may be insisted, not of a nervous

influence only, but of a direct effect of odor on the vital processes. The

experiments of Tardif on the influence of perfumes on frogs and rabbits

showed that a poisonous effect was exerted;[83] while Féré, by incubating

fowls' eggs in the presence of musk, found repeatedly that many

abnormalities occurred, and that development was retarded even in the

embryos that remained normal; while he obtained somewhat similar results

by using essences of lavender, cloves, etc.[84] The influence of odors is

thus deeper than is indicated by their nervous effects; they act directly

on nutrition. We are led, as Passy remarks, to regard odors as very

intimately related to the physiological properties of organic substances,

and the sense of smell as a detached fragment of generally sensibility,

reacting to the same stimuli as general sensibility, but highly

specialized in view of its protective function.

The reality and subtlety of the influence of odors is further

shown, by the cases in which very intense effects are produced

even by the temporary inhalation of flowers or perfumes or other

odors. Such cases of idiosyncrasy in which a person--frequently

of somewhat neurotic temperament--becomes acutely sensitive to

some odor or odors have been recorded in medical literature for

many centuries. In these cases the obnoxious odor produces

congestion of the respiratory passages, sneezing, headache,

fainting, etc., but occasionally, it has been recorded, even

death. (Dr. J.N. Mackenzie, in his interesting and learned paper

on "The Production of the so-called 'Rose Cold,' etc.," _American

Journal of Medical Sciences_, January, 1886, quotes many cases,

and gives a number of references to ancient medical authors; see

also Layet, art. "Odeur," _Dictionnaire Encyclopédique des

Sciences Médicales_.)

An interesting phenomenon of the group--though it is almost too

common to be described as an idiosyncrasy--is the tendency of the

odor of certain flowers to affect the voice and sometimes even to

produce complete loss of voice. The mechanism of the process is

not fully understood, but it would appear that congestion and

paresis of the larynx is produced and spasm of the bronchial

tube. Botallus in 1565 recorded cases in which the scent of

flowers brought on difficulty of breathing, and the danger of

flowers from this point of view is well recognized by

professional singers. Joal has studied this question in an

elaborate paper (summarized in the _British Medical Journal_,

March 3, 1895), and Dr. Cabanès has brought together (_Figaro_,

January 20, 1894) the experiences of a number of well-known

singers, teachers of singing, and laryngologists. Thus, Madame

Renée Richard, of the Paris Opera, has frequently found that when

her pupils have arrived with a bunch of violets fastened to the

bodice or even with a violet and iris sachet beneath the corset,

the voice has been marked by weakness and, on using the

laryngoscope, she has found the vocal cords congested. Madame

Calvé confirmed this opinion, and stated that she was specially

sensitive to tuberose and mimosa, and that on one occasion a

bouquet of white lilac has caused her, for a time, complete loss

of voice. The flowers mentioned are equally dangerous to a number

of other singers; the most injurious flower of all is found to be

the violet. The rose is seldom mentioned, and artificial perfumes

are comparatively harmless, though some singers consider it

desirable to be cautious in using them.

FOOTNOTES:

[79] Féré, _Travail et Plaisir_, Chapter XIII.

[80] _Travail et Plaisir_, p. 175. It is doubtless true of the effects of

odors on the sexual sphere. Féré records the case of a neurasthenic lady

whose sexual coldness toward her husband only disappeared after the

abandonment of a perfume (in which heliotrope was apparently the chief

constituent) she had been accustomed to use in excessive amounts.

[81] It is perhaps significant that many colors are especially liable to

produce skin disorders, especially urticaria; a number of cases have been

recorded by Joal, _Journal de Médecine_, July 10, 1899.

[82] Layet, art. "Vanillisme," _Dictionnaire Encyclopédique des Sciences

Médicales_; cf. Audeoud, _Revue Médicale de la Suisse Romande_, October

20, 1899, summarized in the _British Medical Journal_, 1899.

[83] E. Tardif, _Les Odeurs et Parfums_, Chapter III.

[84] Féré, _Société de Biologie_, March 28, 1896.

VI.

The Place of Smell in Human Sexual Selections--It has given Place to the

Predominance of Vision largely because in Civilized Man it Fails to Act at

a Distance--It still Plays a Part by Contributing to the Sympathies or the

Antipathies of Intimate Contact.

When we survey comprehensively the extensive field we have here rapidly

traversed, it seems not impossible to gain a fairly accurate view of the

special place which olfactory sensations play in human sexual selection.

The special peculiarity of this group of sensations in man, and that which

gives them an importance they would not otherwise possess, is due to the

fact that we here witness the decadence of a sense which in man's remote

ancestors was the very chiefest avenue of sexual allurement. In man, even

the most primitive man,--to some degree even in the apes,--it has declined

in importance to give place to the predominance of vision.[85] Yet, at

that lower threshold of acuity at which it persists in man it still bathes

us in a more or less constant atmosphere of odors, which perpetually move

us to sympathy or to antipathy, and which in their finer manifestations we

do not neglect, but even cultivate with the increase of our civilization.

It thus comes about that the grosser manifestations of sexual allurement

by smell belong, so far as man is concerned, to a remote animal past which

we have outgrown and which, on account of the diminished acuity of our

olfactory organs, we could not completely recall even if we desired to;

the sense of sight inevitably comes into play long before it is possible

for close contact to bring into action the sense of smell. But the latent

possibilities of sexual allurement by olfaction, which are inevitably

embodied in the nervous structure we have inherited from our animal

ancestors, still remain ready to be called into play. They emerge

prominently from time to time in exceptional and abnormal persons. They

tend to play an unusually larger part in the psychic lives of neurasthenic

persons, with their sensitive and comparatively unbalanced nervous

systems, and this is doubtless the reason why poets and men of letters

have insisted on olfactory impressions so frequently and to so notable a

degree; for the same reason sexual inverts are peculiarly susceptible to

odors. For a different reason, warmer climates, which heighten all odors

and also favor the growth of powerfully odorous plants, lead to a

heightened susceptibility to the sexual and other attractions of smell

even among normal persons; thus we find a general tendency to delight in

odors throughout the East, notably in India, among the ancient Hebrews,

and in Mohammedan lands.

Among the ordinary civilized population in Europe the sexual influences of

smell play a smaller and yet not altogether negligible part. The

diminished prominence of odors only enables them to come into action, as

sexual influences, on close contact, when, in some persons at all events,

personal odors may have a distinct influence in heightening sympathy or

arousing antipathy. The range of variation among individuals is in this

matter considerable. In a few persons olfactory sympathy or antipathy is

so pronounced that it exerts a decisive influence in their sexual

relationships; such persons are of olfactory type. In other persons smell

has no part in constituting sexual relationships, but it comes into play

in the intimate association of love, and acts as an additional excitant;

when reinforced by association such olfactory impressions may at times

prove irresistible. Other persons, again, are neutral in this respect, and

remain indifferent either to the sympathetic or antipathetic working of

personal odors, unless they happen to be extremely marked. It is probable

that the majority of refined and educated people belong to the middle

group of those persons who are not of predominantly olfactory type, but

are liable from time to time to be influenced in this manner. Women are

probably at least as often affected in this manner as men, probably more

often.

On the whole, it may be said that in the usual life of man odors play a

not inconsiderable part and raise problems which are not without interest,

but that their demonstrable part in actual sexual selection--whether in

preferential mating or in assortative mating--is comparatively small.

FOOTNOTES:

[85] Moll has a passage on this subject, _Untersuchungen über die Libido

Sexualis_. Bd. I, pp. 376-381.

HEARING.

I.

The Physiological Basis of Rhythm--Rhythm as a Physiological Stimulus--The

Intimate Relation of Rhythm to Movement--The Physiological Influence of

Music on Muscular Action, Circulation, Respiration, etc.--The Place of

Music in Sexual Selection among the Lower Animals--Its Comparatively Small

Place in Courtship among Mammals--The Larynx and Voice in Man--The

Significance of the Pubertal Changes--Ancient Beliefs Concerning the

Influence of Music in Morals, Education, and Medicine--Its Therapeutic

Uses--Significance of the Romantic Interest in Music at Puberty--Men

Comparatively Insusceptible to the Specifically Sexual Influence of

Music--Rarity of Sexual Perversions on the Basis of the Sense of

Hearing--The Part of Music in Primitive Human Courtship--Women Notably

Susceptible to the Specifically Sexual Influence of Music and the Voice.

The sense of rhythm--on which it may be said that the sensory exciting

effects of hearing, including music, finally rest--may probably be

regarded as a fundamental quality of neuro-muscular tissue. Not only are

the chief physiological functions of the body, like the circulation and

the respiration, definitely rhythmical, but our senses insist on imparting

a rhythmic grouping even to an absolutely uniform succession of

sensations. It seems probable, although this view is still liable to be

disputed, that this rhythm is the result of kinæsthetic

sensations,--sensations arising from movement or tension started reflexly

in the muscles by the external stimuli,--impressing themselves on the

sensations that are thus grouped.[86] We may thus say, with Wilks, that

music appears to have had its origin in muscular action.[87]

Whatever its exact origin may be, rhythm is certainly very deeply

impressed on our organisms. The result is that, whatever lends itself to

the neuro-muscular rhythmical tendency of our organisms, whatever tends

still further to heighten and develop that rhythmical tendency, exerts

upon us a very decidedly stimulating and exciting influence.

All muscular action being stimulated by rhythm, in its simple form or in

its more developed form as music, rhythm is a stimulant to work. It has

even been argued by Bücher and by Wundt[88] that human song had its chief

or exclusive origin in rhythmical vocal accompaniments to systematized

work. This view cannot, however, be maintained; systematized work can

scarcely be said to exist, even to-day, among most very primitive races;

it is much more probable that rhythmical song arose at a period antecedent

to the origin of systematized work, in the primitive military, religious,

and erotic dances, such as exist in a highly developed degree among the

Australians and other savage races who have not evolved co-ordinated

systematic labor. There can, however, be no doubt that as soon as

systematic work appears the importance of vocal rhythm in stimulating its

energy is at once everywhere recognized. Bücher has brought together

innumerable examples of this association, and in the march music of

soldiers and the heaving and hoisting songs of sailors we have instances

that have universally persisted into civilization, although in

civilization the rhythmical stimulation of work, physiologically sound as

is its basis, tends to die out. Even in the laboratory the influence of

simple rhythm in increasing the output of work may be demonstrated; and

Féré found with the ergograph that a rhythmical grouping of the movements

caused an increase of energy which often more than compensated the loss of

time caused by the rhythm.[89]

Rhythm is the most primitive element of music, and the most fundamental.

Wallaschek, in his book on _Primitive Music_, and most other writers on

the subject are agreed on this point. "Rhythm," remarks an American

anthropologist,[90] "naturally precedes the development of any fine

perception of differences in pitch, of time-quality, or of tonality.

Almost, if not all, Indian songs," he adds, "are as strictly developed out

of modified repetitions of a motive as are the movements of a Mozart or a

Beethoven symphony." "In all primitive music," asserts Alice C.

Fletcher,[91] "rhythm is strongly developed. The pulsations of the drum

and the sharp crash of the rattles are thrown against each other and

against the voice, so that it would seem that the pleasure derived by the

performers lay not so much in the tonality of the song as in the measured

sounds arrayed in contesting rhythm, and which by their clash start the

nerves and spur the body to action, for the voice which alone carries the

tone is often subordinated and treated as an additional instrument." Groos

points out that a melody gives us the essential impression of a _voice

that dances_;[92] it is a translation of spatial movement into sound, and,

as we shall see, its physiological action on the organism is a reflection

of that which, as we have elsewhere found,[93] dancing itself produces,

and thus resembles that produced by the sight of movement. Dancing, music,

and poetry were primitively so closely allied as to be almost identical;

they were still inseparable among the early Greeks. The refrains in our

English ballads indicate the dancer's part in them. The technical use of

the word "foot" in metrical matters still persists to show that a poem is

fundamentally a dance.

Aristotle seems to have first suggested that rhythm and melodies

are motions, as actions are motions, and therefore signs of

feeling. "All melodies are motions," says Helmholtz. "Graceful

rapidity, gravel procession, quiet advance, wild leaping, all

these different characters of motion and a thousand others can be

represented by successions of tones. And as music expresses these

motions it gives an expression also to those mental conditions

which naturally evoke similar motions, whether of the body and

the voice, or of the thinking and feeling principle itself."

(Helmholtz, _On the Sensations of Tone_, translated by A. J.

Ellis, 1885, p. 250.)

From another point of view the motor stimulus of music has been

emphasized by Cyples: "Music connects with the only sense that

can be perfectly manipulated. Its emotional charm has struck men

as a great mystery. There appears to be no doubt whatever that it

gets all the marvelous effects it has beyond the mere pleasing of

the ear, from its random, but multitudinous summonses of the

efferent activity, which at its vague challenges stirs

unceasingly in faintly tumultuous irrelevancy. In this way, music

arouses aimlessly, but splendidly, the sheer, as yet unfulfilled,

potentiality within us." (W. Copies, _The Process of Human

Experience_, p. 743.)

The fundamental element of transformed motion in music has been

well brought out in a suggestive essay by Goblot ("La Musique

Descriptive," _Revue Philosophique_, July, 1901): "Sung or

played, melody figures to the ear a successive design, a moving

arabesque. We talk of _ascending_ and _descending_ the gamut, of

_high_ notes or _low_ notes; the; higher voice of woman is called

_soprano_, or _above_, the deeper voice of man is called _bass_.

_Grave_ tones were so called by the Greeks because they seemed

heavy and to incline downward. Sounds seem to be subject to the

action of gravity; so that some rise and others fall. Baudelaire,

speaking of the prelude to _Lohengrin_, remarks: 'I felt myself

_delivered from the bonds of weight_.' And when Wagner sought to

represent, in the highest regions of celestial space, the

apparition of the angels bearing the Holy Grail to earth, he uses

very high notes, and a kind of chorus played exclusively by the

violins, divided into eight parts, in the highest notes of their

register. The descent to earth of the celestial choir is rendered

by lower and lower notes, the progressive disappearance of which

represents the reascension to the ethereal regions.

"Sounds seem to rise and fall; that is a fact. It is difficult to

explain it. Some have seen in it a habit derived from the usual

notation by which the height of the note corresponds to its

height in the score. But the impression is too deep and general

to be explained by so superficial and recent a cause. It has been

suggested also that high notes are generally produced by small

and light bodies, low notes by heavy bodies. But that is not

always true. It has been said, again, that high notes in nature

are usually produced by highly placed objects, while low notes

arise from caves and low placed regions. But the thunder is heard

in the sky, and the murmur of a spring or the song of a cricket

arise from the earth. In the human voice, again, it is said, the

low notes seem to resound in the chest, high notes in the head.

All this is unsatisfactory. We cannot explain by such coarse

analogies an impression which is very precise, and more sensible

(this fact has its importance) for an interval of half a tone

than for an interval of an octave. It is probable that the true

explanation is to be found in the still little understood

connection between the elements of our nervous apparatus.

"Nearly all our emotions tend to produce movement. But education

renders us economical of our acts. Most of these movements are

repressed, especially in the adult and civilized man, as harmful,

dangerous, or merely useless. Some are not completed, others are

reduced to a faint incitation which externally is scarcely

perceptible. Enough remain to constitute all that is expressive

in our gestures, physiognomy, and attitudes. Melodic intervals

possess in a high degree this property of provoking impulses of

movement, which, even when repressed, leave behind internal

sensations and motor images. It would be possible to study these

facts experimentally if we had at our disposition a human being

who, while retaining his sensations and their motor reactions,

was by special circumstances rendered entirely spontaneous like a

sensitive automaton, whose movements were neither intentionally

produced nor intentionally repressed. In this way, melodic

intervals in a hypnotized subject might be very instructive."

A number of experiments of the kind desired by Goblot had already

been made by A. de Rochas in a book, copiously illustrated by

very numerous instantaneous photographs, entitled _Les

Sentiments, la Musique et la Geste_, 1900. Chapter III. De Rochas

experimented on a single subject, Lina, formerly a model, who was

placed in a condition of slight hypnosis, when various simple

fragments of music were performed: recitatives, popular airs, and

more especially national dances, often from remote parts of the

world. The subject's gestures were exceedingly marked and varied

in accordance with the character of the music. It was found that

she often imitated with considerable precision the actual

gestures of dances she could never have seen. The same music

always evoked the same gestures, as was shown by instantaneous

photographs. This subject, stated to be a chaste and well-behaved

girl, exhibited no indications of definite sexual emotion under

the influence of any kind of music. Some account is given in the

same volume of other hypnotic experiments with music which were

also negative as regards specific sexual phenomena.

It must be noted that, as a physiological stimulus, a single musical note

is effective, even apart from rhythm, as is well shown by Féré's

experiments with the dynamometer and the ergograph.[94] It is, however,

the influence of music on muscular work which has been most frequently

investigated, and both on brief efforts with the dynamometer and prolonged

work with the ergograph it has been found to exert a stimulating

influence. Thus, Scripture found that, while his own maximum thumb and

finger grip with the dynamometer is 8 pounds, when the giant's motive from

Wagner's _Rheingold_ is played it rises to 8¾ pounds.[95] With the

ergograph Tarchanoff found that lively music, in nervously sensitive

persons, will temporarily cause the disappearance of fatigue, though slow

music in a minor key had an opposite effect.[96] The varying influence on

work with the ergograph of different musical intervals and different keys

has been carefully studied by Féré with many interesting results. There

was a very considerable degree of constancy in the results. Discords were

depressing; most, but not all, major keys were stimulating; and most, but

not all, minor keys depressing. In states of fatigue, however, the minor

keys were more stimulating than the major, an interesting result in

harmony with that stimulating influence of various painful emotions in

states of organic fatigue which we have elsewhere encountered when

investigating sadism.[97] "Our musical culture," Féré remarks, "only

renders more perceptible to us the unconscious relationships which exist

between musical art and our organisms. Those whom we consider more endowed

in this respect have a deeper penetration of the phenomena accomplished

within them; they feel more profoundly the marvelous reactions between the

organism and the principles of musical art, they experience more strongly

that art is within them."[98] Both the higher and the lower muscular

processes, the voluntary and the involuntary, are stimulated by music.

Darlington and Talbot, in Titchener's laboratory at Cornell University,

found that the estimation of relative weights was aided by music.[99]

Lombard found, when investigating the normal variations in the knee-jerk,

that involuntary reflex processes are always reinforced by music; a

military band playing a lively march caused the knee-jerk to increase at

the loud passages and to diminish at the soft passages, while remaining

always above the normal level.[100]

With this stimulating influence of rhythm and music on the neuro-muscular

system--which may or may not be direct--there is a concomitant influence

on the circulatory and breathing apparatus. During recent years a great

many experiments have been made on man and animals bearing on the effects

of music on the heart and respiration. Perhaps the earliest of these were

carried out by the Russian physiologist Dogiel in 1880.[101] His methods

were perhaps defective and his results, at all events as regards man,

uncertain, but in animals the force and rapidity of the heart were

markedly increased. Subsequent investigations have shown very clearly the

influence of music on the circulatory and respiratory systems in man as

well as in animals. That music has an apparently direct influence on the

circulation of the brain is shown by the observations of Patrizi on a

youth who had received a severe wound of the head which had removed a

large portion of the skull wall. The stimulus of melody produced an

immediate increase in the afflux of blood to the brain.[102]

In Germany the question was investigated at about the same time by

Mentz.[103] Observing the pulse with a sphygmograph and Marey tambour he

found distinct evidence of an effect on the heart; when attention was

given to the music the pulse was quickened, in the absence of attention it

was slowed; Mentz also found that pleasurable sensations tended to slow

the pulse and disagreeable ones to quicken it.

Binet and Courtier made an elaborate series of experiments on the action

of music on the respiration (with the double pneumograph), the heart, and

the capillary circulation (with the plethysmograph of Hallion and Comte)

on a single subject, a man very sensitive to music and himself a cultured

musician. Simple musical sounds with no emotional content accelerated the

respiration without changing its regularity or amplitude. Musical

fragments, mostly sung, usually well known to the subject, and having an

emotional effect on him, produced respiratory irregularity either in

amplitude or rapidity of breathing, in two-thirds of the trials. Exciting

music, such as military marches, accelerated the breathing more than sad

melodies, but the intensity of the excitation had an effect at least as

great as its quality, for intense excitations always produced both

quickened and deeper breathing. The heart was quickened in harmony with

the quickened breathing. Neither breathing nor heart was ever slowed. As

regards the capillary pulsation, an influence was exerted chiefly, if not

exclusively, by gay and exciting melodies, which produced a shrinking.

Throughout the experiments it was found that the most profound

physiological effects were exerted by those pieces which the subject found

to be most emotional in their influence on him.[104]

Guibaud studied the question on a number of subjects, confirming and

extending the conclusions of Binet and Courtier. He found that the

reactions of different individuals varied, but that for the same

individual reactions were constant. Circulatory reaction was more often

manifest than respiratory reaction. The latter might be either a

simultaneous modification of depth and of rapidity or of either of these.

The circulatory reaction was a peripheral vasoconstriction with diminished

fullness of pulse and slight acceleration of cardiac rhythm; there was

never any distinct slowing of heart under the influence of music. Guibaud

remarks that when people say they feel a shudder at some passage of music,

this sensation of cold finds its explanation in the production of a

peripheral vasoconstriction which may be registered by the

plethysmograph.[105]

Since music thus directly and powerfully affects the chief vital

processes, it is not surprising that it should indirectly influence

various viscera and functions. As Tarchanoff and others have demonstrated,

it affects the skin, increasing the perspiration; it may produce a

tendency to tears; it sometimes produces desire to urinate, or even actual

urination, as in Scaliger's case of the Gascon gentleman who was always

thus affected on hearing the bagpipes. In dogs it has been shown by

Tarchanoff and Wartanoff that auditory stimulation increases the

consumption of oxygen 20 per cent., and the elimination of carbonic acid

17 per cent.

In addition to the effects of musical sound already mentioned, it may be

added that, as Epstein, of Berne, has shown,[106] the other senses are

stimulated under the influence of sound, and notably there is an increase

in acuteness of vision which may be experimentally demonstrated. It is

probable that this effect of music in heightening the impressions received

by the other senses is of considerable significance from our present point

of view.

Why are musical tones in a certain order and rhythm pleasurable? asked

Darwin in _The Descent of Man_, and he concluded that the question was

insoluble. We see that, in reality, whatever the ultimate answer may be,

the immediate reason is quite simple. Pleasure is a condition of slight

and diffused stimulation, in which the heart and breathing are faintly

excited, the neuro-muscular system receives additional tone, the viscera

gently stirred, the skin activity increased; and certain combinations of

musical notes and intervals act as a physiological stimulus in producing

these effects.[107]

Among animals of all kinds, from insects upward, this physiological action

appears to exist, for among nearly all of them certain sounds are

agreeable and attractive, and other sounds indifferent and disagreeable.

It appears that insects of quite different genera show much appreciation

of the song of the Cicada.[108] Birds show intense interest in the singing

of good performers even of other species. Experiments among a variety of

animals in the Zoölogical Gardens with performances on various instruments

showed that with the exception of seals none were indifferent, and all

felt a discord as offensive. Many animals showed marked likes and

dislikes; thus, a tiger, who was obviously soothed by the violin, was

infuriated by the piccolo; the violin and the flute were preferred by most

animals.[109]

Most persons have probably had occasion to observe the

susceptibility of dogs to music. It may here suffice to give one

personal observation. A dog (of mixed breed, partly collie), very

well known to me, on hearing a nocturne of Chopin, whined and

howled, especially at the more pathetic passages, once or twice

catching and drawing out the actual note played; he panted,

walked about anxiously, and now and then placed his head on the

player's lap. When the player proceeded to a more cheerful piece

by Grieg, the dog at once became indifferent, sat down, yawned,

and scratched himself; but as soon as the player returned once

more to the nocturne the dog at once repeated his accompaniment.

There can be no doubt that among a very large number of animals of most

various classes, more especially among insects and birds, the attraction

of music is supported and developed on the basis of sexual attraction, the

musical notes emitted serving as a sexual lure to the other sex. The

evidence on this point was carefully investigated by Darwin on a very wide

basis.[110] It has been questioned, some writers preferring to adopt the

view of Herbert Spencer,[111] that the singing of birds is due to

"overflow of energy," the relation between courtship and singing being

merely "a relation of concomitance." This view is no longer tenable;

whatever the precise origin of the musical notes of animals may be,--and

it is not necessary to suppose that sexual attraction had a large part in

their first rudimentary beginnings,--there can now be little doubt that

musical sounds, and, among birds, singing, play a very large part indeed

in bringing the male and the female together.[112] Usually, it would

appear, it is the performance of the male that attracts the female; it is

only among very simple and primitive musicians, like some insects, that

the female thus attracts the male.[113] The fact that it is nearly always

one sex only that is thus musically gifted should alone have sufficed to

throw suspicion on any but a sexual solution of this problem of animal

song.

It is, however, an exceedingly remarkable fact that, although among

insects and lower vertebrates the sexual influence of music is so large,

and although among mammals and predominantly in man the emotional and

æsthetic influence of music is so great, yet neither in man nor any of the

higher mammals has music been found to exert a predominant sexual

influence, or even in most cases any influence at all. Darwin, while

calling attention to the fact that the males of most species of mammals

use their vocal powers chiefly, and sometimes exclusively, during the

breeding-season, adds that "it is a surprising fact that we have not as

yet any good evidence that these organs are used by male mammals to charm

the female."[114] From a very different standpoint, Féré, in studying the

pathology of the human sexual instinct in the light of a very full

knowledge of the available evidence, states that he knows of no detailed

observations showing the existence of any morbid sexual perversions based

on the sense of hearing, either in reference to the human voice or to

instrumental music.[115]

When, however, we consider that not only in the animals most nearly

related to man, but in man himself, the larynx and the voice undergo a

marked sexual differentiation at puberty, it is difficult not to believe

that this change has an influence on sexual selection and sexual

psychology. At puberty there is a slight hyperæmia of the larynx,

accompanied by rapid development alike of the larynx itself and of the

vocal cords, which become larger and thicker, while there is an associated

change in the voice, which deepens. All these changes are very slight in

girls, but very pronounced in boys, whose voices are said to "break" and

then become lower by at least an octave. The feminine larynx at puberty

only increases in the proportion of 5 to 7, but the masculine larynx in

the proportion of 5 to 10. The direct dependence of this change on the

general sexual development is shown not merely by its occurrence at

puberty, but by the fact that in eunuchs in whom the testicles have been

removed before puberty the voice retains its childlike qualities.[116]

As a matter of fact, I believe that we may attach a considerable degree of

importance to the voice and to music generally as a method of sexual

appeal. On this point I agree with Moll, who remarks that "the sense of

hearing here plays a considerable part, and the stimulation received

through the ears is much larger than is usually believed."[117] I am not,

however, inclined to think that this influence is considerable in its

action on men, although Mantegazza remarks, doubtless with a certain

truth, that "some women's voices cannot be heard with impunity." It is

true that the ancients deprecated the sexual or at all events the

effeminating influence of some kinds of music, but they seem to have

regarded it as sedative rather than stimulating; the kind of music they

approved of as martial and stimulating was the kind most likely to have

sexual effects in predisposed persons.

The Chinese and the Greeks have more especially insisted on the

ethical qualities of music and on its moralizing and demoralizing

effects. Some three thousand years ago, it is stated, a Chinese

emperor, believing that only they who understood music are

capable of governing, distributed administrative functions in

accordance with this belief. He acted entirely in accordance with

Chinese morality, the texts of Confucianism (see translations in

the "Sacred Books of the East Series") show clearly that music

and ceremony (or social ritual in a wide sense) are regarded as

the two main guiding influences of life--music as the internal

guide, ceremony as the external guide, the former being looked

upon as the more important.

Among the Greeks Menander said that to many people music is a

powerful stimulant to love. Plato, in the third book of the

_Republic_, discusses what kinds of music should be encouraged in

his ideal state. He does not clearly state that music is ever a

sexual stimulant, but he appears to associate plaintive music

(mixed Lydian and Hypolydian) with drunkenness, effeminacy, and

idleness and considers that such music is "useless even to women

that are to be virtuously given, not to say to men." He only

admits two kinds of music: one violent and suited to war, the

other tranquil and suited to prayer or to persuasion. He sets out

the ethical qualities of music with a thoroughness which almost

approaches the great Chinese philosopher: "On these accounts we

attach such importance to a musical education, because rhythm and

harmony sink most deeply into the recesses of the soul, and take

most powerful hold of it, bringing gracefulness in their train,

and making a man graceful if he be rightly nurtured, ... leading

him to commend beautiful objects, and gladly receive them into

his soul, and feed upon them, and grow to be noble and good."

Plato is, however, by no means so consistent and thorough as the

Chinese moralist, for having thus asserted that it is the

influence of music which molds the soul into virtue, he proceeds

to destroy his position with the statement that "we shall never

become truly musical until we know the essential forms of

temperance and courage and liberality and munificence," thus

moving in a circle. It must be added that the Greek conception of

music was very comprehensive and included poetry.

Aristotle took a wider view of music than Plato and admitted a

greater variety of uses for it. He was less anxious to exclude

those uses which were not strictly ethical. He disapproved,

indeed, of the Phrygian harmony as the expression of Bacchic

excitement. He accepts, however, the function of music as a

katharsis of emotion, a notion which is said to have originated

with the Pythagoreans. (For a discussion of Aristotle's views on

music, see W.L. Newman, _The Politics of Aristotle_, vol. i, pp.

359-369.)

Athenæus, in his frequent allusions to music, attributes to it

many intellectual and emotional properties (e.g., Book XIV,

Chapter XXV) and in one place refers to "melodies inciting to

lawless indulgence" (Book XIII, Chapter LXXV).

We may gather from the _Priapeia_ (XXVI) that cymbals and

castanets were the special accompaniment in antiquity of wanton

songs and dances: "_cymbala, cum crotalis, pruriginis arma_."

The ancient belief in the moralizing influence of music has

survived into modern times mainly in a somewhat more scientific

form as a belief in its therapeutic effects in disordered nervous

and mental conditions. (This also is an ancient belief as

witnessed by the well-known example of David playing to Saul to

dispel his melancholia.) In 1729 an apothecary of Oakham, Richard

Broune, published a work entitled _Medicina Musica_, in which he

argued that music was beneficial in many maladies. In more recent

days there have been various experiments and cases brought

forward showing its efficacy in special conditions.

An American physician (W.F. Hutchinson) has shown that anæsthesia

may be produced with accurately made tuning forks at certain

rates of vibration (summarized in the _British Medical Journal_,

June 4, 1898). Ferrand in a paper read before the Paris Academy

of Medicine in September, 1895, gives reasons for classing some

kinds of music as powerful antispasmodics with beneficial

therapeutic action. The case was subsequently reported of a child

in whom night-terrors were eased by calming music in a minor key.

The value of music in lunatic asylums is well recognized; see

e.g., Näcke, _Revue de Psychiatrie_, October, 1897. Vaschide and

Vurpas (_Comptes Rendus de la Société de Biologie_, December 13,

1902) have recorded the case of a girl of 20, suffering from

mental confusion with excitation and central motor

disequilibrium, whose muscular equilibrium was restored and

movements rendered more co-ordinated and adaptive under the

influence of music.

While there has been much extravagance in the ancient doctrine

concerning the effects of music, the real effects are still

considerable. Not only is this demonstrated by the experiments

already referred to (p. 118), indicating the efficacy of musical

sounds as physiological stimulants, but also by anatomical

considerations. The roots of the auditory nerves, McKendrick has

pointed out, are probably more widely distributed and have more

extensive connections than those of any other nerve. The

intricate connections of these nerves are still only being

unraveled. This points to an explanation of how music penetrates

to the very roots of our being, influencing by associational

paths reflex mechanisms both cerebral and somatic, so that there

is scarcely a function of the body that may not be affected by

the rhythmical pulsations, melodic progressions, and harmonic

combinations of musical tones. (_Nature_, June 15, 1899, p. 164.)

Just as we are not entitled from the ancient belief in the influence of

music on morals or the modern beliefs in its therapeutic influence--even

though this has sometimes gone to the length of advocating its use in

impotence[118]--to argue that music has a marked influence in exciting the

specifically sexual instincts, neither are we entitled to find any similar

argument in the fact that music is frequently associated with the

love-feelings of youth. Men are often able to associate many of their

earliest ideas of love in boyhood with women singing or playing; but in

these cases it will always be found that the fascination was romantic and

sentimental, and not specifically erotic.[119] In adult life the music

which often seems to us to be most definitely sexual in its appeal (such

as much of Wagner's _Tristan_) really produces this effect in part from

the association with the story, and in part from the intellectual

realization of the composer's effort to translate passion into æsthetic

terms; the actual effect of the music is not sexual, and it can well be

believed that the results of experiments as regards the sexual influence

of the _Tristan_ music on men under the influence of hypnotism have been,

as reported, negative. Helmholtz goes so far as to state that the

expression of sexual longing in music is identical with that of religious

longing. It is quite true, again, that a soft and gentle voice seems to

every normal man as to Lear "an excellent thing in woman," and that a

harsh or shrill voice may seem to deaden or even destroy altogether the

attraction of a beautiful face. But the voice is not usually in itself an

adequate or powerful method of evoking sexual emotion in a man. Even in

its supreme vocal manifestations the sexual fascination exerted by a great

singer, though certainly considerable, cannot be compared with that

commonly exerted by the actress. Cases have, indeed, been

recorded--chiefly occurring, it is probable, in men of somewhat morbid

nervous disposition--in which sexual attraction was exerted chiefly

through the ear, or in which there was a special sexual sensibility to

particular inflections or accents.[120] Féré mentions the case of a young

man in hospital with acute arthritis who complained of painful erections

whenever he heard through the door the very agreeable voice of the young

woman (invisible to him) who superintended the linen.[121] But these

phenomena do not appear to be common, or, at all events, very pronounced.

So far as my own inquiries go, only a small proportion of men would

appear to experience definite sexual feelings on listening to music. And

the fact that in woman the voice is so slightly differentiated from that

of the child, as well as the very significant fact that among man's

immediate or even remote ancestors the female's voice can seldom have

served to attract the male, sufficiently account for the small part played

by the voice and by music as a sexual allurement working on men.[122]

It is otherwise with women. It may, indeed, be said at the outset that the

reasons which make it antecedently improbable that men should be sexually

attracted through hearing render it probable that women should be so

attracted. The change in the voice at puberty makes the deeper masculine

voice a characteristic secondary sexual attribute of man, while the fact

that among mammals generally it is the male that is most vocal--and that

chiefly, or even sometimes exclusively, at the rutting season--renders it

antecedently likely that among mammals generally, including the human

species, there is in the female an actual or latent susceptibility to the

sexual significance of the male voice,[123] a susceptibility which, under

the conditions of human civilization, may be transferred to music

generally. It is noteworthy that in novels written by women there is a

very frequent attentiveness to the qualities of the hero's voice and to

its emotional effects on the heroine.[124] We may also note the special

and peculiar personal enthusiasm aroused in women by popular musicians, a

more pronounced enthusiasm than is evoked in them by popular actors.

As an interesting example of the importance attached by women

novelists to the effects of the male voice I may refer to George

Eliot's _Mill on the Floss_, probably the most intimate and

personal of George Eliot's works. In Book VI of this novel the

influence of Stephen Guest (a somewhat commonplace young man)

over Maggie Tulliver is ascribed almost exclusively to the effect

of his base voice in singing. We are definitely told of Maggie

Tulliver's "sensibility to the supreme excitement of music."

Thus, on one occasion, "all her intentions were lost in the vague

state of emotion produced by the inspiring duet--emotion that

seemed to make her at once strong and weak: strong for all

enjoyment, weak for all resistance. Poor Maggie! She looked very

beautiful when her soul was being played on in this way by the

inexorable power of sound. You might have seen the slightest

perceptible quivering through her whole frame as she leaned a

little forward, clasping her hands as if to steady herself; while

her eyes dilated and brightened into that wideopen, childish

expression of wondering delight, which always came back in her

happiest moments." George Eliot's novels contain many allusions

to the powerful emotional effects of music.

It is unnecessary to refer to Tolstoy's _Kreutzer Sonata_, in

which music is regarded as the Galeotto to bring lovers

together--"the connecting bond of music, the most refined lust of

the senses."

In primitive human courtship music very frequently plays a considerable

part, though not usually the sole part, being generally found as the

accompaniment of the song and the dance at erotic festivals.[125] The

Gilas, of New Mexico, among whom courtship consists in a prolonged

serenade day after day with the flute, furnish a somewhat exceptional

case. Savage women are evidently very attentive to music; Backhouse (as

quoted, by Ling Roth[126]) mentions how a woman belonging to the very

primitive and now extinct Tasmanian race, when shown a musical box,

listened "with intensity; her ears moved like those of a dog or horse, to

catch the sound."

I have found little evidence to show that music, except in occasional

cases, exerts even the slightest specifically sexual effect on men,

whether musical or unmusical. But I have ample evidence that it very

frequently exerts to a slight but definite extent such an influence on

women, even when quite normal. Judging from my own inquiries it would,

indeed, seem likely that the majority of normal educated women are liable

to experience some degree of definite sexual excitement from music; one

states that orchestral music generally tends to produce this effect;

another finds it chiefly from Wagner's music; another from military music,

etc. Others simply state--what, indeed, probably expresses the experience

of most persons of either sex--that it heightens one's mood. One lady

mentions that some of her friends, whose erotic feelings are aroused by

music, are especially affected in this way by the choral singing in Roman

Catholic churches.[127]

In the typical cases just mentioned, all fairly normal and healthy women,

the sexual effects of music though definite were usually quite slight. In

neuropathic subjects they may occasionally be more pronounced. Thus, a

medical correspondent has communicated to me the case of a married lady

with one child, a refined, very beautiful, but highly neurotic, woman,

married to a man with whom she has nothing in common. Her tastes lie in

the direction of music; she is a splendid pianist, and her highly trained

voice would have made a fortune. She confesses to strong sexual feelings

and does not understand why intercourse never affords what she knows she

wants. But the hearing of beautiful music, or at times the excitement of

her own singing, will sometimes cause intense orgasm.

Vaschide and Vurpas, who emphasize the sexually stimulating

effects of music, only bring forward one case in any detail, and

it is doubtless significant that this case is a woman. "While

listening to a piece of music X changes expression, her eyes

become bright, the features are accentuated, a smile begins to

form, an expression of pleasure appears, the body becomes more

erect, there is a general muscular hypertonicity. X tells us that

as she listens to the music she experiences sensations very like

those of normal intercourse. The difference chiefly concerns the

local genital apparatus, for there is no flow of vaginal mucus.

On the psychic side the resemblance is marked." (Vaschide and

Vurpas, "Du Coefficient Sexual de l'Impulsion Musicale,"

_Archives de Neurologie_, May, 1904.)

It is sometimes said, or implied, that a woman (or a man) sings

better under the influence of sexual emotion. The writer of an

article already quoted, on "Woman in her Psychological Relations"

(_Journal of Psychological Medicine_, 1851), mentions that "a

young lady remarkable for her musical and poetical talents

naïvely remarked to a friend who complimented her upon her

singing: 'I never sing half so well as when I've had a

love-fit.'" And George Eliot says. "There is no feeling, perhaps,

except the extremes of fear and grief, that does not make a man

sing or play the better." While, however, it may be admitted that

some degree of general emotional exaltation may exercise a

favorable influence on the singing voice, it is difficult to

believe that definite physical excitement at or immediately

before the exercise of the voice can, as a rule, have anything

but a deleterious effect on its quality. It is recognized that

tenors (whose voices resemble those of women more than basses,

who are not called upon to be so careful in this respect) should

observe rules of sexual hygiene; and menstruation frequently has

a definite influence in impairing the voice (H. Ellis, _Man and

Woman_, fourth edition, p. 290). As the neighborhood of

menstruation is also the period when sexual excitement is most

likely to be felt, we have here a further indication that sexual

emotion is not favorable to singing. I agree with the remarks of

a correspondent, a musical amateur, who writes: "Sexual

excitement and good singing do not appear to be correlated. A

woman's emotional capacity in singing or acting may be remotely

associated with hysterical neuroses, but is better evinced for

art purposes in the absence of disturbing sexual influences. A

woman may, indeed, fancy herself the heroine of a wanton romance

and 'let herself go' a little in singing with improved results.

But a memory of sexual ardors will help no woman to make the best

of her voice in training. Some women can only sing their best

when they think of the other women they are outsinging. One girl

'lets her soul go out into her voice' thinking of jamroll,

another thinking of her lover (when she has none), and most, no

doubt, when they think of nothing. But no woman is likely to

'find herself' in an artistic sense because she has lost herself

in another sense--not even if she has done so quite respectably."

The reality of the association between the sexual impulse and music--and,

indeed, art generally--is shown by the fact that the evolution of puberty

tends to be accompanied by a very marked interest in musical and other

kinds of art. Lancaster, in a study of this question among a large number

of young people (without reference to difference in sex, though they were

largely female), found that from 50 to 75 per cent of young people feel an

impulse to art about the period of puberty, lasting a few months, or at

most a year or two. It appears that 464 young people showed an increased

and passionate love for music, against only 102 who experienced no change

in this respect. The curve culminates at the age of 15 and falls rapidly

after 16. Many of these cases were really quite unmusical.[128]

FOOTNOTES:

[86] This view has been more especially developed by J.B. Miner, _Motor,

Visual, and Applied Rhythms_, Psychological Review Monograph Supplements,

vol. v, No. 4, 1903.

[87] Sir S. Wilks, _Medical Magazine_, January, 1894; cf. Clifford

Allbutt, "Music, Rhythm, and Muscle," _Nature_, February 8, 1894.

[88] Bücher, _Arbeit und Rhythmus_, third edition, 1902; Wundt,

_Völkerpsychologie_, 1900, Part I, p. 265.

[89] Féré deals fully with the question in his book, _Travail et Plaisir_,

1904, Chapter III, "Influence du Rhythme sur le Travail."

[90] Fillmore, "Primitive Scales and Rhythms," _Proceedings of the

International Congress of Anthropology_, Chicago, 1893.

[91] "Love Songs among the Omaha Indians," in _Proceedings_ of same

congress.

[92] Groos, _Spiele der Menschen_, p. 33.

[93] "Analysis of the Sexual Impulse," _Studies in the Psychology of Sex_,

vol. iii.

[94] Féré, _Sensation et Mouvement_, Chapter V; id., _Travail et Plaisir_,

Chapter XII.

[95] Scripture, _Thinking, Feeling, Doing_, p. 85.

[96] Tarchanoff, "Influence de la Musique sur l'Homme et sur les Animaux,"

_Atti dell' XI Congresso Medico Internationale_, Rome, 1894, vol. ii, p.

153; also in _Archives Italiennes de Biologie_, 1894.

[97] "Love and Pain," _Studies in the Psychology of Sex_, vol. iii.

[98] Féré, _Travail et Plaisir_, Chapter XII, "Action Physiologique des

Sens Musicaux." "A practical treatise on harmony," Goblot remarks (_Revue

Philosophique_, July, 1901, p. 61), "ought to tell us in what way such an

interval, or such a succession of intervals, affects us. A theoretical

treatise on harmony ought to tell us the explanation of these impressions.

In a word, musical harmony is a psychological science." He adds that this

science is very far from being constituted yet; we have hardly even

obtained a glimpse of it.

[99] _American Journal of Psychology_, April, 1898.

[100] _American Journal of Psychology_, November, 1887. The influence of

rhythm on the involuntary muscular system is indicated by the occasional

effect of music in producing a tendency to contraction of the bladder.

[101] _Archiv für Anatomie und Physiologie_ (Physiologisches Abtheilung),

1880, p. 420.

[102] M.L. Patrizi, "Primi esperimenti intorno all' influenza della musica

sulla circolozione del sangue nel cervello umano," _International Congress

für Psychologie_, Munich, 1897, p. 176.

[103] _Philosophische Studien_, vol. xi.

[104] Binet and Courtier, "La Vie Emotionelle," _Année Psychologique_,

Third Year, 1897, pp. 104-125.

[105] Guibaud, _Contribution à l'étude expérimentale de l'influence de la

musique sur la circulation et la respiration_. Thèse de Bordeaux, 1898,

summarized in _Année Psychologique_, Fifth Year, 1899, pp. 645-649.

[106] _International Congress of Physiology_, Berne, 1895.

[107] The influence of association plays no necessary part in these

pleasurable influences, for Féré's experiments show that an unmusical

subject responds physiologically, with much precision, to musical

intervals he is unable to recognize. R. MacDougall also finds that the

effective quality of rhythmical sequences does not appear to be dependent

on secondary associations (_Psychological Review_, January, 1903).

[108] R.T. Lewis, in _Nature Notes_, August, 1891.

[109] Cornish, "Orpheus at the Zoo," in _Life at the Zoo_, pp. 115-138.

[110] _Descent of Man_, Chapters XIII and XIX.

[111] "The Origin of Music" (1857), _Essays_, vol. ii.

[112] Anyone who is in doubt on this point, as regards bird song, may

consult the little book in which the evidence has been well summarized by

Häcker, _Der Gesang der Vögel_, or the discussion in Groos's _Spiele der

Thiere_, pp. 274 et seq.

[113] Thus, mosquitoes are irresistibly attracted by music, and especially

by those musical tones which resemble the buzzing of the female; the males

alone are thus attracted. (Nuttall and Shipley, and Sir Hiram Maxim,

quoted in _Nature_, October 31, 1901, p. 655, and in _Lancet_, February

22, 1902.)

[114] _Descent of Man_, second edition, p. 567. Groos, in his discussion

of music, also expresses doubt whether hearing plays a considerable part

in the courtship of mammals, _Spiele der Menschen_, p. 22.

[115] Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, second edition, p. 137.

[116] See Biérent, _La Puberté_ Chapter IV; also Havelock Ellis, _Man and

Woman_, fourth edition, pp. 270-272. Endriss (_Die Bisherigen

Beobachtungen von Physiologischen und Pathologischen Beziehungen der

oberen Luftwege zu den Sexualorganen_, Teil III) brings together various

observations on the normal and abnormal relations of the larynx to the

sexual sphere.

[117] Moll, _Untersuchungen über die Libido Sexualis_, bd. 1, p. 133.

[118] J.L. Roger, _Traité des Effets de la Musique_, 1803, pp. 234 and

342.

[119] A typical example occurs in the early life of History I in Appendix

B to vol. iii of these _Studies_.

[120] Vaschide and Vurpas state (_Archives de Neurologie_, May, 1904) that

in their experience music may facilitate sexual approaches in some cases

of satiety, and that in certain pathological cases the sexual act can only

be accomplished under the influence of music.

[121] Féré, _L'Instinct Sexuel_, p. 137. Bloch (_Beiträge_, etc., vol. ii,

p. 355) quotes some remarks of Kistemaecker's concerning the sound of

women's garments and the way in which savages and sometimes civilized

women cultivate this rustling and clinking. Gutzkow, in his

_Autobiography_, said that the _frou-frou_ of a woman's dress was the

music of the spheres to him.

[122] The voice is doubtless a factor of the first importance in sexual

attraction among the blind. On this point I have no data. The

expressiveness of the voice to the blind, and the extent to which their

likes and dislikes are founded on vocal qualities, is well shown by an

interesting paper written by an American physician, blind from early

infancy, James Cocke, "The Voice as an Index to the Soul," _Arena_,

January, 1894.

[123] Long before Darwin had set forth his theory of sexual selection

Laycock had pointed out the influence which the voice of the male, among

man and other animals, exerts on the female (_Nervous Diseases of Women_,

p. 74). And a few years later the writer of a suggestive article on "Woman

in her Psychological Relations" (_Journal of Psychological Medicine_,

1851) remarked: "The sonorous voice of the male man is exactly analogous

in its effect on woman to the neigh and bellow of other animals. This

voice will have its effect on an amorous or susceptible organization much

in the same way as color and the other visual ovarian stimuli." The writer

adds that it exercises a still more important influence when modulated to

music: "in this respect man has something in common with insects as well

as birds."

[124] Groos refers more than once to the important part played in German

novels written by women by what one of them terms the "bearded male

voice."

[125] Various instances are quoted in the third volume of these _Studies_

when discussing the general phenomena of courtship and tumescence, "An

Analysis of the Sexual Impulse."

[126] _The Tasmanians_, p. 20.

[127] An early reference to the sexual influence of music on women may

perhaps be found in a playful passage in Swift's _Martinus Scriblerus_

(possibly due to his medical collaborator, Arbuthnot): "Does not Ælian

tell how the Libyan mares were excited to horsing by music? (which ought

to be a caution to modest women against frequenting operas)." _Memoirs of

Martinus Scriblerus_, Book I, Chapter 6. (The reference is to Ælian,

_Hist. Animal_, lib. XI, cap. 18, and lib. XII, cap. 44.)

[128] E. Lancaster, "Psychology of Adolescence," _Pedagogical Seminary_,

July, 1897.

II.

Summary--Why the Influence of Music in Human Sexual Selection is

Comparatively Small.

We have seen that it is possible to set forth in a brief space the facts

at present available concerning the influence on the pairing impulse of

stimuli acting through the ear. They are fairly simple and uncomplicated;

they suggest few obscure problems which call for analysis; they do not

bring before us any remarkable perversions of feeling.

At the same time, the stimuli to sexual excitement received through the

sense of hearing, although very seldom of exclusive or preponderant

influence, are yet somewhat more important than is usually believed.

Primarily the voice, and secondarily instrumental music, exert a distinct

effect in this direction, an effect representing a specialization of a

generally stimulating physiological influence which all musical sounds

exercise upon the organism. There is, however, in this respect, a definite

difference between the sexes. It is comparatively rare to find that the

voice or instrumental music, however powerful its generally emotional

influence, has any specifically sexual effect on men. On the other hand,

it seems probable that the majority of women, at all events among the

educated classes, are liable to show some degree of sexual sensibility to

the male voice or to instrumental music.

It is not surprising to find that music should have some share in arousing

sexual emotion when we bear in mind that in the majority of persons the

development of sexual life is accompanied by a period of special interest

in music. It is not unexpected that the specifically sexual effects of the

voice and music should be chiefly experienced by women when we remember

that not only in the human species is it the male in whom the larynx and

voice are chiefly modified at puberty, but that among mammals generally it

is the male who is chiefly or exclusively vocal at the period of sexual

activity; so that any sexual sensibility to vocal manifestations must be

chiefly or exclusively manifested in female mammals.

At the best, however, although æsthetic sensibility to sound is highly

developed and emotional sensibility to it profound and widespread,

although women may be thrilled by the masculine voice and men charmed by

the feminine voice, it cannot be claimed that in the human species hearing

is a powerful factor in mating. This sense has here suffered between the

lower senses of touch and smell, on the one hand, with their vague and

massive appeal, and the higher sense, vision, on the other hand, with its

exceedingly specialized appeal. The position of touch as the primary and

fundamental sense is assured. Smell, though in normal persons it has no

decisive influence on sexual attraction, acts by virtue of its emotional

sympathies and antipathies, while, by virtue of the fact that among man's

ancestors it was the fundamental channel of sexual sensibility, it

furnishes a latent reservoir of impressions to which nervously abnormal

persons, and even normal persons under the influence of excitement or of

fatigue, are always liable to become sensitive. Hearing, as a sense for

receiving distant perceptions has a wider field than is in man possessed

by either touch or smell. But here it comes into competition with vision,

and vision is, in man, the supreme and dominant sense.[129] We are always

more affected by what we see than by what we hear. Men and women seldom

hear each other without speedily seeing each other, and then the chief

focus of interest is at once transferred to the visual centre.[130] In

human sexual selection, therefore, hearing plays a part which is nearly

always subordinated to that of vision.

FOOTNOTES:

[129] Nietzsche has even suggested that among primitive men delicacy of

hearing and the evolution of music can only have been produced under

conditions which made it difficult for vision to come into play: "The ear,

the organ of fear, could only have developed, as it has, in the night and

in the twilight of dark woods and caves.... In the brightness the ear is

less necessary. Hence the character of music as an art of night and

twilight." (_Morgenröthe_, p. 230.)

[130] At a concert most people are instinctively anxious to _see_ the

performers, thus distracting the purely musical impression, and the

reasonable suggestion of Goethe that the performers should be invisible is

still seldom carried into practice.

VISION

I.

Primacy of Vision in Man--Beauty as a Sexual Allurement--The Objective

Element in Beauty--Ideals of Feminine Beauty in Various Parts of the

World--Savage Women sometimes Beautiful from European Point of

View--Savages often Admire European Beauty--The Appeal of Beauty to some

Extent Common even to Animals and Man.

Vision is the main channel by which man receives his impressions. To a

large extent it has slowly superseded all the other senses. Its range is

practically infinite; it brings before us remote worlds, it enables us to

understand the minute details of our own structure. While apt for the most

abstract or the most intimate uses, its intermediate range is of universal

service. It furnishes the basis on which a number of arts make their

appeal to us, and, while thus the most æsthetic of the senses, it is the

sense on which we chiefly rely in exercising the animal function of

nutrition. It is not surprising, therefore, that from the point of view of

sexual selection vision should be the supreme sense, and that the

love-thoughts of men have always been a perpetual meditation of beauty.

It would be out of place here to discuss comparatively the origins of our

ideas of beauty. That is a question which belongs to æsthetics, not to

sexual psychology, and it is a question on which æstheticians are not

altogether in agreement. We need not even be concerned to make any

definite assertion on the question whether our ideas of sexual beauty have

developed under the influence of more general and fundamental laws, or

whether sexual ideals themselves underlie our more general conceptions of

beauty. Practically, so far as man and his immediate ancestors are

concerned, the sexual and the extra-sexual factors of beauty have been

interwoven from the first. The sexually beautiful object must have

appealed to fundamental physiological aptitudes of reaction; the

generally beautiful object must have shared in the thrill which the

specifically sexual object imparted. There has been an inevitable action

and reaction throughout. Just as we found that the sexual and the

non-sexual influences of agreeable odors throughout nature are

inextricably mingled, so it is with the motives that make an object

beautiful to our eyes.[131]

The sexual element in the constitution of beauty is well

recognized even by those writers who concern themselves

exclusively with the æsthetic conception of beauty or with its

relation to culture. It is enough to quote two or three

testimonies on this point. "The whole sentimental side of our

æsthetic sensibility," remarks Santayana, "--without which it

would be perceptive and mathematical rather than æsthetic,--is

due to our sexual organization remotely stirred.... If anyone

were desirous to produce a being with a great susceptibility to

beauty, he could not invent an instrument better designed for

that object than sex. Individuals that need not unite for the

birth and rearing of each generation might retain a savage

independence. For them it would not be necessary that any vision

should fascinate, or that any languor should soften, the prying

cruelty of the eye. But sex endows the individual with a dumb and

powerful instinct, which carries his body and soul continually

toward another; makes it one of the dearest enjoyments of his

life to select and pursue a companion, and joins to possession

the keenest pleasure, to rivalry the fiercest rage, and to

solitude an eternal melancholy. What more could be needed to

suffuse the world with the deepest meaning and beauty? The

attention is fixed upon a well-defined object, and all the

effects it produces in the mind are easily regarded as powers or

qualities of that object.... To a certain extent this kind of

interest will center in the proper object of sexual passion, and

in the special characteristics of the opposite sex[131]; and we

find, accordingly, that woman is the most lovely object to man,

and man, if female modesty would confess it, the most interesting

to woman. But the effects of so fundamental and primitive a

reaction are much more general. Sex is not the only object of

sexual passion. When love lacks its specific object, when it does

not yet understand itself, or has been sacrificed to some other

interest, we see the stifled fire bursting out in various

directions.... Passion then overflows and visibly floods those

neighboring regions which it had always secretly watered. For the

same nervous organization which sex involves, with its

necessarily wide branchings and associations in the brain, must

be partially stimulated by other objects than its specific or

ultimate one; especially in man, who, unlike some of the lower

animals, has not his instincts clearly distinct and intermittent,

but always partially active, and never active in isolation. We

may say, then, that for man all nature is a secondary object of

sexual passion, and that to this fact the beauty of nature is

largely due." (G. Santayana, _The Sense of Beauty_, pp. 59-62.)

Not only is the general fact of sexual attraction an essential

element of æsthetic contemplation, as Santayana remarks, but we

have to recognize also that specific sexual emotion properly

comes within the æsthetic field. It is quite erroneous, as Groos

well points out, to assert that sexual emotion has no æsthetic

value. On the contrary, it has quite as much value as the emotion

of terror or of pity. Such emotion, must, however, be duly

subordinated to the total æsthetic effect. (K. Groos, _Der

Æsthetische Genuss_, p. 151.)

"The idea of beauty," Remy de Gourmont says, "is not an unmixed

idea; it is intimately united with the idea of carnal pleasure.

Stendhal obscurely perceived this when he defined beauty as 'a

promise of happiness.' Beauty is a woman, and women themselves

have carried docility to men so far as to accept this aphorism

which they can only understand in extreme sexual perversion....

Beauty is so sexual that the only uncontested works of art are

those that simply show the human body in its nudity. By its

perseverance in remaining purely sexual Greek statuary has placed

itself forever above all discussion. It is beautiful because it

is a beautiful human body, such a one as every man or every woman

would desire to unite with in the perpetuation of the race....

That which inclines to love seems beautiful; that which seems

beautiful inclines to love. This intimate union of art and of

love is, indeed, the only explanation of art. Without this

genital echo art would never have been born and never have been

perpetuated. There is nothing useless in these deep human depths;

everything which has endured is necessary. Art is the accomplice

of love. When love is taken away there is no art; when art is

taken away love is nothing but a physiological need." (Remy de

Gourmont, _Culture des Idées_, 1900, p. 103, and _Mercure de

France_, August, 1901, pp. 298 et seq.)

Beauty as incarnated in the feminine body has to some extent

become the symbol of love even for women. Colin Scott finds that

it is common among women who are not inverted for female beauty

whether on the stage or in art to arouse sexual emotion to a

greater extent than male beauty, and this is confirmed by some of

the histories I have recorded in the Appendix to the third

volume of these _Studies_. Scott considers that female beauty has

come to be regarded as typical of ideal beauty, and thus tends to

produce an emotional effect on both sexes alike. It is certainly

rare to find any æsthetic admiration of men among women, except

in the case of women who have had some training in art. In this

matter it would seem that woman passively accepts the ideals of

man. "Objects which excite a man's desire," Colin Scott remarks,

"are often, if not generally, the same as those affecting woman.

The female body has a sexually stimulating effect upon both

sexes. Statues of female forms are more liable than those of male

form to have a stimulating effect upon women as well as men. The

evidence of numerous literary expressions seems to show that

under the influence of sexual excitement a woman regards her body

as made for man's gratification, and that it is this complex

emotion which forms the initial stage, at least, of her own

pleasure. Her body is the symbol for her partner, and indirectly

for her, through his admiration of it, of their mutual joy and

satisfaction." (Colin Scott, "Sex and Art," _American Journal of

Psychology_, vol. vii, No. 2, p. 206; also private letter.)

At the same time it must be remembered that beauty and the

conception of beauty have developed on a wider basis than that of

the sexual impulse only, and also that our conceptions of the

beautiful, even as concerns the human form, are to some extent

objective, and may thus be in part reduced to law. Stratz, in his

books on feminine beauty, and notably in _Die Schönheit des

Weiblichen Körpers_, insists on the objective element in beauty.

Papillault, again, when discussing the laws of growth and the

beauty of the face, argues that beauty of line in the face is

objective, and not a creation of fancy, since it is associated

with the highest human functions, moral and social. He remarks on

the contrast between the prehistoric man of

Chancelade,--delicately made, with elegant face and high

forehead,--who created the great Magdalenian civilization, and

his seemingly much more powerful, but less beautiful,

predecessor, the man of Spy, with enormous muscles and powerful

jaws. (_Bulletin de la Société d'Anthropologie_, 1899, p. 220.)

The largely objective character of beauty is further indicated by

the fact that to a considerable extent beauty is the expression

of health. A well and harmoniously developed body, tense muscles,

an elastic and finely toned skin, bright eyes, grace and

animation of carriage--all these things which are essential to

beauty are the conditions of health. It has not been demonstrated

that there is any correlation between beauty and longevity, and

the proof would not be easy to give, but it is quite probable

that such a correlation may exist, and various indications point

in this direction. One of the most delightful of Opie's pictures

is the portrait of Pleasance Reeve (afterward Lady Smith) at the

age of 17. This singularly beautiful and animated brunette lived

to the age of 104. Most people are probably acquainted with

similar, if less marked, cases of the same tendency.

The extreme sexual importance of beauty, so far, at all events, as

conscious experience is concerned is well illustrated by the fact that,

although three other senses may and often do play a not inconsiderable

part in the constitution of a person's sexual attractiveness,--the tactile

element being, indeed, fundamental,--yet in nearly all the most elaborate

descriptions of attractive individuals it is the visible elements that are

in most cases chiefly emphasized. Whether among the lowest savages or in

the highest civilization, the poet and story-teller who seeks to describe

an ideally lovely and desirable woman always insists mainly, and often

exclusively, on those characters which appeal to the eye. The richly laden

word _beauty_ is a synthesis of complex impressions obtained through a

single sense, and so simple, comparatively, and vague are the impressions

derived from the other senses that none of them can furnish us with any

corresponding word.

Before attempting to analyze the conception of beauty, regarded

in its sexual appeal to the human mind, it may be well to bring

together a few fairly typical descriptions of a beautiful woman

as she appears to the men of various nations.

In an Australian folklore story taken down from the lips of a

native some sixty years ago by W. Dunlop (but evidently not in

the native's exact words) we find this description of an

Australian beauty: "A man took as his wife a beautiful girl who

had long, glossy hair hanging around her face and down her

shoulders, which were plump and round. Her face was adorned with

red clay and her person wrapped in a fine large opossum rug

fastened by a pin formed from the small bone of the kangaroo's

leg, and also by a string attached to a wallet made of rushes

neatly plaited of small strips skinned from their outside after

they had been for some time exposed to the heat of the fire;

which being thrown on her back, the string passing under one arm

and across her breast, held the soft rug in a fanciful position

of considerable elegance; and she knew well how to show to

advantage her queenlike figure when she walked with her polished

yam stick held in one of her small hands and her little feet

appearing below the edge of the rug" (W. Dunlop, "Australian

Folklore Stories," _Journal of the Anthropological Institute_,

August and November, 1898, p. 27).

A Malay description of female beauty is furnished by Skeat. "The

brow (of the Malay Helen for whose sake a thousand desperate

battles are fought in Malay romances) is like the one-day-old

moon; her eyebrows resemble 'pictured clouds,' and are 'arched

like the fighting-cock's (artificial) spur'; her cheek resembles

the 'sliced-off cheek of a mango'; her nose, 'an opening jasmine

bud'; her hair, the 'wavy blossom shoots of the areca-palm';

slender is her neck, 'with a triple row of dimples'; her bosom

ripening, her waist 'lissom as the stalk of a flower,' her head;

'of a perfect oval' (literally, bird's-egg shaped), her fingers

like the leafy 'spears of lemon-grass' or the 'quills of the

porcupine,' her eyes 'like the splendor of the planet Venus,' and

her lips 'like the fissure of a pomegranate.'" (W.W. Skeat,

_Malay Magic_, 1900, p. 363.)

In Mitford's _Tales of Old Japan_ (vol. i, p. 215) a "peerlessly

beautiful girl of 16" is thus described: "She was neither too fat

nor too thin, neither too tall nor too short; her face was oval,

like a melon-seed, and her complexion fair and white;; her eyes

were narrow and bright, her teeth small and even; her nose was

aquiline, and her mouth delicately formed, with lovely red lips;

her eyebrows were long and fine; she had a profusion of long

black hair; she spoke modestly, with a soft, sweet voice, and

when she smiled, two lovely dimples appeared in her cheeks; in

all her movements she was gentle and refined." The Japanese belle

of ancient times, Dr. Nagayo Sensai remarks (_Lancet_, February

15, 1890) had a white face, a long, slender throat and neck, a

narrow chest, small thighs, and small feet and hands. Bälz, also,

has emphasized the ethereal character of the Japanese ideal of

feminine beauty, delicate, pale and slender, almost uncanny; and

Stratz, in his interesting book, _Die Körperformen in Kunst und

Leben der Japaner_ (second edition, 1904), has dealt fully with

the subject of Japanese beauty.

The Singalese are great connoisseurs of beauty, and a Kandyan

deeply learned in the matter gave Dr. Davy the following

enumeration of a woman's points of beauty: "Her hair should be

voluminous, like the tail of the peacock, long, reaching to her

knees, and terminating in graceful curls; her eyebrows should

resemble the rainbow, her eyes, the blue sapphire and the petals

of the blue manilla-flower. Her nose should be like the bill of

the hawk; her lips should be bright and red, like coral or the

young leaf of the iron-tree. Her teeth should be small, regular,

and closely set, and like jessamine buds. Her neck should be

large and round, resembling the berrigodea. Her chest should be

capacious; her breasts, firm and conical, like the yellow

cocoa-nut, and her waist small--almost small enough to be clasped

by the hand. Her hips should be wide; her limbs tapering; the

soles of her feet, without any hollow, and the surface of her

body in general soft, delicate, smooth, and rounded, without the

asperities of projecting bones and sinews." (J. Davy, _An

Account of the Interior of Ceylon_, 1821, p. 110.)

The "Padmini," or lotus-woman, is described by Hindu writers as

the type of most perfect feminine beauty. "She in whom the

following signs and symptoms appear is called a _Padmini_: Her

face is pleasing as the full moon; her body, well clothed with

flesh, is as soft as the Shiras or mustard flower; her skin is

fine, tender, and fair as the yellow lotus, never dark colored.

Her eyes are bright and beautiful as the orbs of the fawn, well

cut, and with reddish corners. Her bosom is hard, full, and high;

she; has a good neck; her nose is straight and lovely; and three

folds or wrinkles cross her middle--about the umbilical region.

Her _yoni_ [vulva] resembles the opening lotus bud, and her

love-seed is perfumed like the lily that has newly burst. She

walks with swanlike [more exactly, flamingolike] gait, and her

voice is low and musical as the note of the Kokila bird [the

Indian cuckoo]; she delights in white raiment, in fine jewels,

and in rich dresses. She eats little, sleeps lightly, and being

as respectful and religious as she is clever and courteous, she

is ever anxious to worship the gods and to enjoy the conversation

of Brahmans. Such, then, is the Padmini, or lotus-woman." (_The

Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana_, 1883, p. 11.)

The Hebrew ideal of feminine beauty is set forth in various

passages of the _Song of Songs_. The poem is familiar, and it

will suffice to quote one passage:--

"How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince's daughter!

Thy rounded thighs are like jewels,

The work of the hands of a cunning workman.

Thy navel is like a rounded goblet

Wherein no mingled wine is wanting;

Thy belly is like a heap of wheat

Set about with lilies.

Thy two breasts are like two fawns

They are twins of a roe.

Thy neck is like the tower of ivory;

Thine eyes as the pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bathrabbim;

Thy nose is like the tower of Lebanon

That looketh toward Damascus.

Thine head upon thee is like Carmel

And the hair of thine head like purple;

The king is held captive in the tresses thereof.

This thy stature is like to a palm-tree,

And thy breasts to clusters of grapes,

And the smell of thy breath like apples,

And thy mouth like the best wine."

And the man is thus described in the same poem:--

"My beloved is fair and ruddy,

The chiefest among ten thousand.

His head as the most fine gold,

His locks are bushy (or curling), and black as a raven.

His eyes are like doves beside the water-brooks,

Washed with milk and fitly set.

His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as banks of sweet herbs;

His lips are as lilies, dropping liquid myrrh.

His hands are as rings of gold, set with beryl;

His body is as ivory work, overlaid with sapphires.

His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold.

His aspect is like Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.

His mouth is most sweet; yea, he is altogether lovely."

"The maiden whose loveliness inspires the most impassioned

expressions in Arabic poetry," Lane states, "is celebrated for

her slender figure: She is like the cane among plants, and is

elegant as a twig of the oriental willow. Her face is like the

full moon, presenting the strongest contrast to the color of her

hair, which is of the deepest hue of night, and falls to the

middle of her back (Arab ladies are extremely fond of full and

long hair). A rosy blush overspreads the center of each cheek;

and a mole is considered an additional charm. The Arabs, indeed,

are particularly extravagant in their admiration of this natural

beauty spot, which, according to its place, is compared to a drop

of ambergris upon a dish of alabaster or upon the surface of a

ruby. The eyes of the Arab beauty are intensely black,[132]

large, and long, of the form of an almond: they are full of

brilliancy; but this is softened by long silken lashes, giving a

tender and languid expression that is full of enchantment and

scarcely to be improved by the adventitious aid of the black

border of kohl; for this the lovely maiden adds rather for the

sake of fashion than necessity, having what the Arabs term

natural kohl. The eyebrows are thin and arched; the forehead is

wide and fair as ivory; the nose straight; the mouth, small; the

lips of a brilliant red; and the teeth, like pearls set in coral.

The forms of the bosom are compared to two pomegranates; the

waist is slender; the hips are wide and large; the feet and

hands, small; the fingers, tapering, and their extremities dyed

with the deep orange tint imparted by the leaves of the henna."

Lane adds a more minute analysis from an unknown author quoted by

El-Ishákee: "Four things in a woman should be _black_--the hair

of the head, the eyebrows, the eyelashes, and the dark part of

the eyes; four _white_--the complexion of the skin, the white of

the eyes, the teeth, and the legs; four _red_--the tongue, the

lips, the middle of the cheeks, and the gums; four _round_--the

head, the neck, the forearms, and the ankles; four _long_--the

back, the fingers, the arms, and the legs; four _wide_--the

forehead, the eyes, the bosom, and the hips; four _fine_--the

eyebrows, the nose, the lips, and the fingers; four _thick_--the

lower part of the back, the thighs, the calves of the legs, and

the knees; four _small_--the ears, the breasts, the hands, and

the feet." (E.W. Lane, _Arabian Society in the Middle Ages_,

1883, pp. 214-216.)

A Persian treatise on the figurative terms relating to beauty

shows that the hair should be black, abundant, and wavy, the

eyebrows dark and arched. The eyelashes also must be dark, and

like arrows from the bow of the eyebrows. There is, however, no

insistence on the blackness of the eyes. We hear of four

varieties of eye: the dark-gray eye (or narcissus eye); the

narrow, elongated eye of Turkish beauties; the languishing, or

love-intoxicated, eye; and the wine-colored eye. Much stress is

laid on the quality of brilliancy. The face is sometimes

described as brown, but more especially as white and rosy. There

are many references to the down on the lips, which is described

as greenish (sometimes bluish) and compared to herbage. This down

and that on the cheeks and the stray hairs near the ears were

regarded as very great beauties. A beauty spot on the chin,

cheek, or elsewhere was also greatly admired, and evoked many

poetic comparisons. The mouth must be very small. In stature a

beautiful woman must be tall and erect, like the cypress or the

maritime pine. While the Arabs admired the rosiness of the legs

and thighs, the Persians insisted on white legs and compared them

to silver and crystal. (_Anis El-Ochchâq_, by Shereef-Eddin Romi,

translated by Huart, _Bibliothèque de l'Ecole des Hautes Etudes_,

Paris, fasc. 25, 1875.)

In the story of Kamaralzaman in the _Arabian Nights_ El-Sett

Budur is thus described: "Her hair is so brown that it is blacker

than the separation of friends. And when it is arrayed in three

tresses that reach to her feet I seem to see three nights at

once.

"Her face is as white as the day on which friends meet again. If

I look on it at the time of the full moon I see two moons at

once.

"Her cheeks are formed of an anemone divided into two corollas;

they have the purple tinge of wine, and her nose is straighter

and more delicate than the finest sword-blade.

"Her lips are colored agate and coral; her tongue secretes

eloquence; her saliva is more desirable than the juice of

grapes.

"But her bosom, blessed be the Creator, is a living seduction. It

bears twin breasts of the purest ivory, rounded, and that may be

held within the five fingers of one hand.

"Her belly has dimples full of shade and arranged with the

harmony of the Arabic characters on the seal of a Coptic scribe

in Egypt. And the belly gives origin to her finely modeled and

elastic waist.

"At the thought of her flanks I shudder, for thence depends a

mass so weighty that it obliges its owner to sit down when she

has risen and to rise when she lies.

"Such are her flanks, and from them descend, like white marble,

her glorious thighs, solid and straight, united above beneath

their crown. Then come the legs and the slender feet, so small

that I am astounded they can bear so great a weight."

An Egyptian stela in the Louvre sings the praise of a beautiful

woman, a queen who died about 700 B.C., as follows: "The beloved

before all women, the king's daughter who is sweet in love, the

fairest among women, a maid whose like none has seen. Blacker is

her hair than the darkness of night, blacker than the berries of

the blackberry bush (?). Harder are her teeth (?) than the flints

on the sickle. A wreath of flowers is each of her breasts, close

nestling on her arms." Wiedemann, who quotes this, adds: "During

the whole classic period of Egyptian history with few exceptions

(such, for example, as the reign of that great innovator,

Amenophis IV) the ideal alike for the male and the female body

was a slender and but slightly developed form. Under the

Ethiopian rule and during the Ptolemaic period in Egypt itself we

find, for the first time, that the goddesses are represented with

plump and well-developed outlines. Examination of the mummies

shows that the earlier ideal was based upon actual facts, and

that in ancient Egypt slender, sinewy forms distinguished both

men and women. Intermarriage with other races and harem life may

have combined in later times to alter the physical type, and with

it to change also the ideal of beauty." (A. Wiedemann, _Popular

Literature in Ancient Egypt_, p. 7.)

Commenting on Plato's ideas of beauty in the _Banquet_

Eméric-David gives references from Greek literature showing that

the typical Greek beautiful woman must be tall, her body supple,

her fingers long, her foot small and light, the eyes clear and

moderately large, the eyebrows slightly arched and almost

meeting, the nose straight and firm, nearly--but not

quite--aquiline, the breath sweet as honey. (Eméric-David,

_Recherches sur l'Art Statuaire_, new edition, 1863, p. 42.)

At the end of classic antiquity, probably in the fifth century,

Aristænetus in his first Epistle thus described his mistress

Lais: "Her cheeks are white, but mixed in imitation of the

splendor of the rose; her lips are thin, by a narrow space

separated from the cheeks, but more red; her eyebrows are black

and divided in the middle; the nose straight and proportioned to

the thin lips; the eyes large and bright, with very black pupils,

surrounded by the clearest white, each color more brilliant by

contrast. Her hair is naturally curled, and, as Homer's saying

is, like the hyacinth. The neck is white and proportioned to the

face, and though unadorned more conspicuous by its delicacy; but

a necklace of gems encircles it, on which her name is written in

jewels. She is tall and elegantly dressed in garments fitted to

her body and limbs. When dressed her appearance is beautiful;

when undressed she is all beauty. Her walk is composed and slow;

she looks like a cypress or a palm stirred by the wind. I cannot

describe how the swelling, symmetrical breasts raise the

constraining vest, nor how delicate and supple her limbs are. And

when she speaks, what sweetness in her discourse!"

Renier has studied the feminine ideal of the Provençal poets, the

troubadours who used the "langue d'oc." "They avoid any

description of the feminine type. The indications refer in great

part to the slender, erect, fresh appearance of the body, and to

the white and rosy coloring. After the person generally, the eyes

receive most praise; they are sweet, amorous, clear, smiling, and

bright. The color is never mentioned. The mouth is laughing, and

vermilion, and, smiling sweetly, it reveals the white teeth and

calls for the delights of the kiss. The face is clear and fresh,

the hand white and the hair constantly blonde. The troubadours

seldom speak of the rest of the body. Peire Vidal is an

exception, and his reference to the well-raised breasts may be

placed beside a reference by Bertran de Born. The general

impression conveyed by the love lyrics of the langue d'oc is one

of great convention. There seemed to be no salvation outside

certain phrases and epithets. The woman of Provence, sung by

hundreds of poets, seems to have been composed all of milk and

roses, a blonde Nuremburg doll." (R. Renier, _Il Tipo Estetico

della Donna nel Medioevo_, 1885, pp. 1-24.)

The conventional ideal of the troubadours is, again, thus

described: "She is a lady whose skin is white as milk, whiter

than the driven snow, of peculiar purity in whiteness. Her

cheeks, on which vermilion hues alone appear, are like the

rosebud in spring, when it has not yet opened to the full. Her

hair, which is nearly always bedecked and adorned with flowers,

is invariably of the color of flax, as soft as silk, and

shimmering with a sheen of the finest gold." (J.F. Rowbotham,

_The Troubadours and Courts of Love_, p. 228.)

In the most ancient Spanish romances, Renier remarks, the

definite indications of physical beauty are slight. The hair is

"of pure gold," or simply fair (_rudios_, which is equal to

_blondos_, a word of later introduction), the face white and

rosy, the hand soft, white, and fragrant; in one place we find a

reference to the uncovered breasts, whiter than crystal. But

usually the ancient Castilian romances do not deal with these

details. The poet contents himself with the statement that a lady

is the sweetest woman in the world, "_la mas linda mujer del

mundo_." (R. Renier, _Il Tipo Estetico della Donna nel Medioevo_,

pp. 68 et seq.)

In a detailed and well-documented thesis, Alwin Schultz describes

the characteristics of the beautiful woman as she appealed to the

German authors of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. She must

be of medium height and slender. Her hair must be fair, like

gold; long, bright, and curly; a man's must only reach to his

shoulders. Dark hair is seldom mentioned and was not admired. The

parting of the hair must be white, but not too broad. The

forehead must be white and bright and rounded, without wrinkles.

The eyebrows must be darker than the hair, arched, and not too

broad, as though drawn with a pencil, the space between them not

too broad. The eyes must be bright, clear, and sparkling, not too

large or too small; nothing definite was said of the color, but

they were evidently usually blue. The nose must be of medium

size, straight, and not curved. The cheeks must be white, tinged

with red; if the red was absent by nature women used rouge. The

mouth must be small; the lips full and red. The teeth must be

small, white, and even. The chin must be white, rounded, lovable,

dimpled; the ears small and beautiful; the neck of medium size,

soft, white, and spotless; the arm small; the hands and fingers

long; the joints small, the nails white and bright and well cared

for. The bosom must be white and large; the breasts high and

rounded, like apples or pears, small and soft. The body generally

must be slender and active. The lower parts of the body are very

seldom mentioned, and many poets are even too modest to mention

the breasts. The buttocks must be rounded, one poet, indeed,

mentions, and the thighs soft and white, the _meinel_ (mons)

brown. The legs must be straight and narrow, the calves full, the

feet small and narrow, with high instep. The color of the skin

generally must be clear and of a tempered rosiness. (A. Schultz,

_Quid de Perfecta Corporis Humani Pulchritudine Germani Soeculi

XII et XIII Senserint_, 1866.) A somewhat similar, but shorter,

account is given by K. Weinhold (_Die Deutschen Frauen im

Mittelalter_, 1882, bd. 1, pp. 219 et seq.). Weinhold considers

that, like the French, the Germans admired the mixed eye, _vair_

or gray.

Adam de la Halle, the Artois _trouvère_ of the thirteenth

century, in a piece ("Li Jus Adan ou de la feuillie") in which he

brings himself forward, thus describes his mistress: "Her hair

had the brilliance of gold, and was twisted into rebellious

curls. Her forehead was very regular, white, and smooth; her

eyebrows, delicate and even, were two brown arches, which seemed

traced with a brush. Her eyes, bright and well cut, seemed to me

_vairs_ and full of caresses; they were large beneath, and their

lids like little sickles, adorned by twin folds, veiled or

revealed at her will her loving gaze. Between her eyes descended

the pipe of her nose, straight and beautiful, mobile when she was

gay; on either side were her rounded, white cheeks, on which

laughter impressed two dimples, and which one could see blushing

beneath her veil. Beneath the nose opened a mouth with blossoming

lips; this mouth, fresh and vermilion as a rose, revealed the

white teeth, in regular array; beneath the chin sprang the white

neck, descending full and round to the shoulder. The powerful

nape, white and without any little wandering hairs, protruded a

little over the dress. To her sloping shoulders were attached

long arms, large or slender where they so should be. What shall I

say of her white hands, with their long fingers, and knuckles

without knots, delicately ending in rosy nails attached to the

flesh by a clear and single line? I come to her bosom with its

firm breasts, but short and high pointed, revealing the valley of

love between them, to her round belly, her arched flanks. Her

hips were flat, her legs round, her calf large; she had a slender

ankle, a lean and arched foot. Such she was as I saw her, and

that which her chemise hid was not of less worth." (Houdoy, _La

Beauté des Femmes_, p. 125, who quotes the original of this

passage, considers it the ideal model of the mediæval woman.)

In the twelfth century story of _Aucassin et Nicolette_,

"Nicolette had fair hair, delicate and curling; her eyes were

gray (_vairs_) and smiling; her face admirably modeled. Her nose

was high and well placed; her lips small and more vermilion than

the cherry or the rose in summer; her teeth were small and white;

her firm little breasts raised her dress as would two walnuts.

Her figure was so slender that you could inclose it with your two

hands, and the flowers of the marguerite, which her toes broke as

she walked with naked feet, seemed black in comparison with her

feet and legs, so white was she."

"Her hair was divided into a double tress," says Alain of Lille

in the twelfth century, "which was long enough to kiss the

ground; the parting, white as the lily and obliquely traced,

separated the hair, and this want of symmetry, far from hurting

her face, was one of the elements of her beauty. A golden comb

maintained that abundant hair whose brilliance rivaled it, so

that the fascinated eye could scarce distinguish the gold of the

hair from the gold of the comb. The expanded forehead had the

whiteness of milk, and rivaled the lily; her bright eyebrows

shone like gold, not standing up in a brush, and, without being

too scanty, orderly arranged. The eyes, serene and brilliant in

their friendly light, seemed twin stars, her nostrils embalsamed

with the odor of honey, neither too depressed in shape nor too

prominent, were of distinguished form; the nard of her mouth

offered to the smell a treat of sweet odors, and her half-open

lips invited a kiss. The teeth seemed cut in ivory; her cheeks,

like the carnation of the rose, gently illuminated her face and

were tempered by the transparent whiteness of her veil. Her chin,

more polished than crystal, showed silver reflections, and her

slender neck fitly separated her head from the shoulders. The

firm rotundity of her breasts attested the full expansion of

youth; her charming arms, advancing toward you, seemed to call

for caresses; the regular curve of her flanks, justly

proportioned, completed her beauty. All the visible traits of her

face and form thus sufficiently told what those charms must be

that the bed alone knew." (The Latin text is given by Houdoy, _La

Beauté des Femmes du XIIe au XVIe Siècle_, p. 119. Robert de

Flagy's portrait of Blanchefleur in _Sarin-le-Loherain_, written

in same century, reveals very similar traits.)

"The young woman appeared with twenty brightly polished daggers

and swords," we read in the Irish _Tain Bo Cuailgne_ of the

Badhbh or Banshee who appeared to Meidhbh, "together with seven

braids for the dead, of bright gold, in her right hand; a

speckled garment of green ground, fastened by a bodkin at the

breast under her fair, ruddy countenance, enveloped her form; her

teeth were so new and bright that they appeared like pearls

artistically set in her gums; like the ripe berry of the mountain

ash were her lips; sweeter was her voice than the notes of the

gentle harp-strings when touched by the most skillful fingers,

and emitting the most enchanting melody; whiter than the snow of

one night was her skin, and beautiful to behold were her

garments, which reached to her well molded, bright-nailed feet;

copious tresses of her tendriled, glossy, golden hair hung

before, while others dangled behind and reached the calf of her

leg." (_Ossianio Transactions_, vol. ii, p. 107.)

An ancient Irish hero is thus described: "They saw a great hero

approaching them; fairest of the heroes of the world; larger and

taller than any man; bluer than ice his eye; redder than the

fresh rowan berries his lips; whiter than showers of pearl his

teeth; fairer than the snow of one night his skin; a protecting

shield with a golden border was upon him, two battle-lances in

his hands; a sword with knobs of ivory [teeth of the sea-horse],

and ornamented with gold, at his side; he had no other

accoutrements of a hero besides these; he had golden hair on his

head, and had a fair, ruddy countenance." (_The Banquet of Dun na

n-gedh_, translated by O'Donovan, _Irish Archæological Society_,

1842.)

The feminine ideal of the Italian poets closely resembles that of

those north of the Alps. Petrarch's Laura, as described in the

_Canzoniere_, is white as snow; her eyes, indeed, are black, but

the fairness of her hair is constantly emphasized; her lips are

rosy; her teeth white; her cheeks rosy; her breast youthful; her

hands white and slender. Other poets insist on the tall, white,

delicate body; the golden or blonde hair; the bright or starry

eyes (without mention of color), the brown or black arched

eyebrows, the straight nose, the small mouth, the thin vermilion

lips, the small and firm breasts. (Renier, _Il Tipo Estetico_,

pp. 87 et seq.)

Marie de France, a French mediæval writer of the twelfth century,

who spent a large part of her life in England, in the _Lai of

Lanval_ thus described a beautiful woman: "Her body was

beautiful, her hips low, the neck whiter than snow, the eyes gray

(_vairs_), the face white, the mouth beautiful, the nose well

placed, the eyebrows brown, the forehead beautiful, the head

curly and blonde; the gleam of gold thread was less bright than

her hair beneath the sun."

The traits of Boccaccio's ideal of feminine beauty, a voluptuous

ideal as compared with the ascetic mediæval ideal which had

previously prevailed, together with the characteristics of the

very beautiful and almost classic garments in which he arrayed

women, have been brought together by Hortis (_Studi sulle opere

Latine del Boccaccio_, 1879, pp. 70 et seq.). Boccaccio admired

fair and abundant wavy hair, dark and delicate eyebrows, and

brown or even black eyes. It was not until some centuries later,

as Hortis remarks, that Boccaccio's ideal woman was embodied by

the painter in the canvases of Titian.

The first precise description of a famous beautiful woman was

written by Niphus in the sixteenth century in his _De Pulchro et

Amore_, which is regarded as the first modern treatise on

æsthetics. The lady described is Joan of Aragon, the greatest

beauty of her time, whose portrait by Raphael (or more probably

Giulio Romano) is in the Louvre. Niphus, who was the philosopher

of the pontifical court and the friend of Leo X, thus describes

this princess, whom, as a physician, he had opportunities of

observing accurately: "She is of medium stature, straight, and

elegant, and possesses the grace which can only be imparted by an

assemblage of characteristics which are individually faultless.

She is neither fat nor bony, but succulent; her complexion is not

pale, but white tinged with rose; her long hair is golden; her

ears are small and in proportion with the size of her mouth. Her

brown eyebrows are semicircular, not too bushy, and the

individual hairs short. Her eyes are blue (_oæsius_), brighter

than stars, radiant with grace and gaiety beneath the dark-brown

eyelashes, which are well spaced and not too long. The nose,

symmetrical and of medium size, descends perpendicularly from

between the eyebrows. The little valley separating the nose from

the upper lip is divinely proportioned. The mouth, inclined to be

rather small, is always stirred by a sweet smile; the rather

thick lips are made of honey and coral. The teeth are small,

polished as ivory, and symmetrically ranged, and the breath has

the odor of the sweetest perfumes. Her voice is that of a

goddess. The chin is divided by a dimple; the whole face

approximates to a virile rotundity. The straight long neck, white

and full, rises gracefully from the shoulders. On the ample

bosom, revealing no indication of the bones, arise the rounded

breasts, of equal and fitting size, and exhaling the perfume of

the peaches they resemble. The rather plump hands, on the back

like snow, on the palm like ivory, are exactly the length of the

face; the full and rounded fingers are long and terminating in

round, curved nails of soft color. The chest as a whole has the

form of a pear, reversed, but a little compressed, and the base

attached to the neck in a delightfully well-proportioned manner.

The belly, the flanks, and the secret parts are worthy of the

chest; the hips are large and rounded; the thighs, the legs, and

the arms are in just proportion. The breadth of the shoulders is

also in the most perfect relation to the dimensions of the other

parts of the body; the feet, of medium length, terminate in

beautifully arranged toes." (Houdoy reproduces this passage in

_La Beauté des Femmes_; cf. also Stratz, _Die Schönheit des

Weiblichen Körpers_, Chapter III.)

Gabriel de Minut, who published in 1587 a treatise of no very

great importance, _De la Beauté_, also wrote under the title of

_La Paulegraphie_ a very elaborate description, covering sixty

pages, of Paule de Viguier, a Gascon lady of good family and

virtuous life living at Toulouse. Minut was her devoted admirer

and addressed an affectionate poem to her just before his death.

She was seventy years of age when he wrote the elaborate account

of her beauty. She had blue eyes and fair hair, though belonging

to one of the darkest parts of France.

Ploss and Bartels (_Das Weib_, bd. 1, sec. 3) have independently

brought together a number of passages from the writers of many

countries describing their ideals of beauty. On this collection I

have not drawn.

When we survey broadly the ideals of feminine beauty set down by the

peoples of many lands, it is interesting to note that they all contain

many features which appeal to the æsthetic taste of the modern European,

and many of them, indeed, contain no features which obviously clash with

his canons of taste. It may even be said that the ideals of some savages

affect us more sympathetically than some of the ideals of our own mediæval

ancestors. As a matter of fact, European travelers in all parts of the

world have met with women who were gracious and pleasant to look on, and

not seldom even in the strict sense beautiful, from the standpoint of

European standards. Such individuals have been found even among those

races with the greatest notoriety for ugliness.

Even among so primitive and remote a people as the Australians

beauty in the European sense is sometimes found. "I have on two

occasions," Lumholtz states, "seen what might be called beauties

among the women of western Queensland. Their hands were small,

their feet neat and well shaped, with so high an instep that one

asked oneself involuntarily where in the world they had acquired

this aristocratic mark of beauty. Their figure was above

criticism, and their skin, as is usually the case among the young

women, was as soft as velvet. When these black daughters of Eve

smiled and showed their beautiful white teeth, and when their

eyes peeped coquettishly from beneath the curly hair which hung

in quite the modern fashion down their foreheads," Lumholtz

realized that even here women could exert the influence ascribed

by Goethe to women generally. (C. Lumholtz, _Among Cannibals_, p.

132.) Much has, again, been written about the beauty of the

American Indians. See, e.g., an article by Dr. Shufeldt, "Beauty

from an Indian's Point of View," _Cosmopolitan Magazine_, April,

1895. Among the Seminole Indians, especially, it is said that

types of handsome and comely women are not uncommon. (_Clay_

MacCauley, "Seminole Indians of Florida," _Fifth Annual Report of

the Bureau of Ethnology_, 1883-1884, pp. 493 et seq.)

There is much even in the negress which appeals to the European

as beautiful. "I have met many negresses," remarks Castellani

(_Les Femmes au Congo_, p. 2), "who could say proudly in the

words of the Song of Songs, 'I am black, but comely.' Many of our

peasant women have neither the same grace nor the same delicate

skin as some natives of Cassai or Songha. As to color, I have

seen on the African continent creatures of pale gold or even red

copper whose fine and satiny skin rivals the most delicate white

skins; one may, indeed, find beauties among women of the darkest

ebony." He adds that, on the whole, there is no comparison with

white women, and that the negress soon becomes hideous.

The very numerous quotations from travelers concerning the women

of all lands quoted by Ploss and Bartels (_Das Weib_, seventh

edition, bd. i, pp. 88-106) amply suffice to show how frequently

some degree of beauty is found even among the lowest human races.

Cf., also, Mantegazza's survey of the women of different races

from this point of view, _Fisiologia della Donna_, Cap. IV.

The fact that the modern European, whose culture may be supposed to have

made him especially sensitive to æsthetic beauty, is yet able to find

beauty among even the women of savage races serves to illustrate the

statement already made that, whatever modifying influences may have to be

admitted, beauty is to a large extent an objective matter. The existence

of this objective element in beauty is confirmed by the fact that it is

sometimes found that the men of the lower races admire European women more

than women of their own race. There is reason to believe that it is among

the more intelligent men of lower race--that is to say those whose

æsthetic feelings are more developed--that the admiration for white women

is most likely to be found.

"Mr. Winwood Reade," stated Darwin, "who has had ample

opportunities for observation, not only with the negroes of the

West Coast of Africa, but with those of the interior who have

never associated with Europeans, is convinced that their ideas of

beauty are, _on the whole_, the same as ours; and Dr. Rohlfs

writes to me to the same effect with respect to Bornu and the

countries inhabited by the Pullo tribes. Mr. Reade found that he

agreed with the negroes in their estimation of the beauty of the

native girls; and that their appreciation of the beauty of

European women corresponded with ours.... The Fuegians, as I have

been informed by a missionary who long resided with them,

considered European women as extremely beautiful ... I should add

that a most experienced observer, Captain [Sir R.] Burton,

believes that a woman whom we consider beautiful is admired

throughout the world." (Darwin, _Descent of Man_, Chapter XIX.)

Mantegazza quotes a conversation between a South American chief

and an Argentine who had asked him which he preferred, the women

of his own people or Christian women; the chief replied that he

admired Christian women most, and when asked the reason said that

they were whiter and taller, had finer hair and smoother skin.

(Mantegazza, _Fisiologia della Donna_, Appendix to Cap. VIII.)

Nordenskjöld, as quoted by Ploss and Bartels, states that the

Eskimo regard their own type as more ugly than that produced by

crossing with white persons, and, according to Kropf, the Nosa

Kaffers admire and seek the fairer half-castes in preference to

their own women of pure race (Ploss and Bartels, _Das Weib_,

seventh edition, bd. 1, p. 78). There is a widespread admiration

for fairness, it may be added, among dark peoples. Fair men are

admired by the Papuans at Torres Straits (_Reports of the

Cambridge Anthropological Expedition_, vol. v, p. 327). The

common use of powder among the women of dark-skinned peoples

bears witness to the existence of the same ideal.

Stratz, in his books _Die Schönheit des Weiblichen Körpers_ and

_Die Rassenschönheit des Weibes_, argues that the ideal of beauty

is fundamentally the same throughout the world, and that the

finest persons among the lower races admire and struggle to

attain the type which is found commonly and in perfection among

the white peoples of Europe. When in Japan he found that among

the numerous photographs of Japanese beauties everywhere to be

seen, his dragoman, a Japanese of low birth, selected as the most

beautiful those which displayed markedly the Japanese type with

narrow-slitted eyes and broad nose. When he sought the opinion of

a Japanese photographer, who called himself an artist and had

some claim to be so considered, the latter selected as most

beautiful three Japanese girls who in Europe also would have been

considered pretty. In Java, also, when selecting from a large

number of Javanese girls a few suitable for photographing, Stratz

was surprised to find that a Javanese doctor pointed out as most

beautiful those which most closely corresponded to the European

type. (Stratz, _Die Rassenschönheit des Weibes_, fourth edition,

1903, p. 3; id., _Die Körperformen der Japaner_, 1904, p. 78.)

Stratz reproduces (Rassenschönheit, pp. 36 et seq.) a

representation of Kwan-yin, the Chinese goddess of divine love,

and quotes some remarks of Borel's concerning the wide deviation

of the representations of the goddess, a type of gracious beauty,

from the Chinese racial type. Stratz further reproduces the

figure of a Buddhistic goddess from Java (now in the

Archæological Museum of Leyden) which represents a type of

loveliness corresponding to the most refined and classic European

ideal.

Not only is there a fundamentally objective element in beauty throughout

the human species, but it is probably a significant fact that we may find

a similar element throughout the whole animated world. The things that to

man are most beautiful throughout Nature are those that are intimately

associated with, or dependent upon, the sexual process and the sexual

instinct. This is the case in the plant world. It is so throughout most of

the animal world, and, as Professor Poulton, in referring to this often

unexplained and indeed unnoticed fact, remarks, "the song or plume which

excites the mating impulse in the hen is also in a high proportion of

cases most pleasing to man himself. And not only this, but in their past

history, so far as it has been traced (e.g., in the development of the

characteristic markings of the male peacock and argus pheasant), such

features have gradually become more and more pleasing to us as they have

acted as stronger and stronger stimuli to the hen."[133]

FOOTNOTES:

[131] "It is likely that all visible parts of the organism, even those

with a definite physiological meaning, appeal to the æsthetic sense of the

opposite sex," Poulton remarks, speaking primarily of insects, in words

that apply still more accurately to the human species. E. Poulton, _The

Colors of Animals_, 1890, p. 304.

[132] "The Arabs in general," Lane remarks, "entertain a prejudice against

blue eyes--a prejudice said to have arisen from the great number of

blue-eyed persons among certain of their northern enemies."

[133] _Nature_, April 14, 1898, p. 55.

II.

Beauty to Some Extent Consists Primitively in an Exaggeration of the

Sexual Characters--The Sexual Organs--Mutilations, Adornments, and

Garments--Sexual Allurement the Original Object of Such

Devices--The Religious Element--Unæsthetic Character of the Sexual

Organs--Importance of the Secondary Sexual Characters--The Pelvis and

Hips--Steatopygia--Obesity--Gait--The Pregnant Woman as a Mediæval Type of

Beauty--The Ideals of the Renaissance--The Breasts--The Corset--Its

Object--Its History--Hair--The Beard--The Element of National or Racial

Type in Beauty--The Relative Beauty of Blondes and Brunettes--The General

European Admiration for Blondes--The Individual Factors in the

Constitution of the Idea of Beauty--The Love of the Exotic.

In the constitution of our ideals of masculine and feminine beauty it was

inevitable that the sexual characters should from a very early period in

the history of man form an important element. From a primitive point of

view a sexually desirable and attractive person is one whose sexual

characters are either naturally prominent or artificially rendered so. The

beautiful woman is one endowed, as Chaucer expresses it,

"With buttokes brode and brestës rounde and hye";

that is to say, she is the woman obviously best fitted to bear children

and to suckle them. These two physical characters, indeed, since they

represent aptitude for the two essential acts of motherhood, must

necessarily tend to be regarded as beautiful among all peoples and in all

stages of culture, even in high stages of civilization when more refined

and perverse ideals tend to find favor, and at Pompeii as a decoration on

the east side of the Purgatorium of the Temple of Isis we find a

representation of Perseus rescuing Andromeda, who is shown as a woman with

a very small head, small hands and feet, but with a fully developed body,

large breasts, and large projecting nates.[134]

To a certain extent--and, as we shall see, to a certain extent only--the

primary sexual characters are objects of admiration among primitive

peoples. In the primitive dances of many peoples, often of sexual

significance, the display of the sexual organs on the part of both men and

women is frequently a prominent feature. Even down to mediæval times in

Europe the garments of men sometimes permitted the sexual organs to be

visible. In some parts of the world, also, the artificial enlargement of

the female sexual organs is practised, and thus enlarged they are

considered an important and attractive feature of beauty.

Sir Andrew Smith informed Darwin that the elongated nymphæ (or

"Hottentot apron") found among the women of some South African

tribes was formerly greatly admired by the men (_Descent of Man_,

Studies in the Psychology of Sex, Volume 4 Sexual Selection In Man · 第 1 / 4 章