CHAPTER II

THE MEANING OF PURITY

I

We live in a world in which, as we nowadays begin to realise, we find two

antagonistic streams of traditional platitude concerning the question of

sexual purity, both flowing from the far past.

The people who embody one of these streams of tradition, basing themselves

on old-fashioned physiology, assume, though they may not always assert,

that the sexual products are excretions, to be dealt with summarily like

other excretions. That is an ancient view and it was accepted by such wise

philosophers of old times as Montaigne and Sir Thomas More. It had,

moreover, the hearty support of so eminent a theological authority as

Luther, who on this ground preached early marriage to men and women alike.

It is still a popular view, sometimes expressed in the crudest terms, and

often by people who, not following Luther's example, use it to defend

prostitution, though they generally exclude women from its operation, as a

sex to whom it fails to apply and by whom it is not required.

But on the other hand we have another stream of platitude. On this side

there is usually little attempt either to deny or to affirm the theory of

the opposing party, though they would contradict its conclusions. Their

theory, if they have one, would usually seem to be that sexual activity is

a response to stimulation from without or from within, so that if there is

no stimulation there will be no sexual manifestation. They would preach,

they tell us, a strenuous ideal; they would set up a wholesome dictate of

hygiene. The formula put forward on this basis usually runs: Continence is

not only harmless but beneficial. It is a formula which, in one form or

another, has received apparently enthusiastic approval in many quarters,

even from distinguished physicians. We need not be surprised. A

proposition so large and general is not easy to deny, and is still more

difficult to reverse; therefore it proves welcome to the

people--especially the people occupying public and professional

positions--who wish to find the path of least resistance, under pressure

of a vigorous section of public opinion. Yet in its vagueness the

proposition is a little disingenuous; it condescends to no definitions and

no qualifications; it fails even to make clear how it is to be reconciled

with any enthusiastic approval of marriage, for if continence is beautiful

how can marriage make it cease to be so?

Both these streams of feeling, it may be noted, sprang from a common

source far back in the primitive human world. All the emanations of the

human body, all the spontaneous manifestations of its activities, were

mysterious and ominous to early man, pregnant with terror unless met with

immense precautions and surrounded by careful ritual. The manifestations

of sex were the least intelligible and the most spontaneous. Therefore the

things of sex were those that most lent themselves to feelings of horror

and awe, of impurity and of purity. They seemed so highly charged with

magic potency that there were no things that men more sought to avoid, yet

none to which they were impelled to give more thought. The manifold echoes

of that primitive conception of sex, and all the violent reactions that

were thus evolved and eventually bound up with the original impulse,

compose the streams of tradition that feed our modern world in this matter

and determine the ideas of purity that surround us.

At the present day the crude theory of the sexual impulse held on one

side, and the ignorant rejection of theory altogether on the other side,

are beginning to be seen as both alike unjustified. We begin to find the

grounds for a sounder theory. Not indeed that the problems of sex, which

go so deeply into the whole personal and social life, can ever be settled

exclusively upon physiological grounds. But we have done much to prepare

even the loftiest Building of Love when we have attained a clear view of

its biological basis.

The progress of chemico-physiological research during recent years has now

brought us to new ground for our building. Indeed the image might well be

changed altogether, and it might be said that science has entirely

transferred the drama of reproduction to a new stage with new actors.

Therewith the immense emphasis placed on excretion, and the inevitable

reaction that emphasis aroused, both alike disappear. The sexual

protagonists are no longer at the surface but within the most secret

recesses of the organism, and they appear to science under the name of

Hormones or Internal Secretions, always at work within and never

themselves condescending to appear at all. Those products of the sexual

glands which in both sexes are cast out of the body, and at an immature

stage of knowledge appeared to be excretions, are of primary reproductive

importance, but, as regards the sexual constitution of the individual,

they are of far less importance than the internal secretions of these very

same glands. It is, however, by no means only the specifically sexual

glands which thus exert a sexual influence within the organism. Other

glands in the brain, the throat, and the abdomen,--such as the thyroid and

the adrenals,--are also elaborating fermentative secretions to throw into

the system. Their mutual play is so elaborate that it is only beginning

to be understood. Some internal secretions stimulate, others inhibit, and

the same secretions may under different conditions do either. This fact is

the source of many degrees and varieties of energy and formative power in

the organism. Taken altogether, the internal secretions are the forces

which build up the man's and woman's distinctively sexual constitution:

the special disposition and growth of hair, the relative development of

breasts and pelvis, the characteristic differences in motor activity, the

varying emotional desires and needs. It is in the complex play of these

secretions that we now seek the explanation of all the peculiarities of

sexual constitution, imperfect or one-sided physical and psychic

development, the various approximations of the male to female bodily and

emotional disposition, of the female to the male, all the numerous

gradations that occur, naturally as we now see, between the complete man

and the complete woman.

When we turn the light of this new conception on to our old ideas of

purity,--to the virtue or the vice, accordingly as we may have been

pleased to consider it, of sexual abstinence,--we begin to see that those

ideas need radical revision. They appear in a new light, their whole

meaning is changed. No doubt it may be said they never had the validity

they appeared to possess, even when we judge them by the crudest

criterion, that of practice. Thus, while it is the rule for physicians to

proclaim the advantages of sexual continence, there is no good reason to

believe that they have themselves practised it in any eminent degree. A

few years ago an inquiry among thirty-five distinguished physicians,

chiefly German and Russian, showed that they were nearly all of opinion

that continence is harmless, if not beneficial. But Meirowsky found by

inquiry of eighty-six physicians, of much the same nationalities, that

only one had himself been sexually abstinent before marriage. There seem

to be no similar statistics for the English-speaking countries, where

there exists a greater modesty--though not perhaps notably less need for

it--in the making of such confessions. But if we turn to the allied

profession which is strongly on the side of sexual abstinence, we find

that among theological students, as has been shown in the United States,

while prostitution may be infrequent, no temptation is so frequent or so

potent, and in most cases so irresistible, as that to solitary sexual

indulgence. Such is the actual attitude towards the two least ideal forms

of sexual practice--as distinguished from mere theory--on the part of the

two professions which most definitely pronounce in favour of continence.

It is necessary, however, as will now be clearer, to set our net more

widely. We must take into consideration every form and degree of sexual

manifestation, normal and abnormal, gross and ethereal. When we do this,

even cautiously and without going far afield, sexual abstinence is found

to be singularly elusive. Rohleder, a careful and conscientious

investigator, has asserted that such abstinence, in the true and complete

sense, is absolutely non-existent, the genuine cases in which sexual

phenomena of some kind or other fail to manifest themselves being simply

cases of inborn lack of sexual sensibility. He met, indeed, a few people

who seemed exceptions to the general rule, but, on better knowledge, he

found that he was mistaken, and that so far from being absent in these

people the sexual instinct was present even in its crudest shapes. The

activity of sex is an activity that on the physical side is generated by

the complex mechanism of the ductless glands and displayed in the whole

organism, physical and psychic, of the individual, who cannot abolish that

activity, although to some extent able to regulate the forms in which it

is manifested, so that purity cannot be the abolition or even the

indefinite suspension of sexual manifestations; it must be the wise and

beautiful control of them.

It is becoming clear that the old platitudes can no longer be maintained,

and that if we wish to improve our morals we must first improve our

knowledge.

II

We have seen that various popular beliefs and conventional assumptions

concerning the sexual impulse can no longer be maintained. The sexual

activities of the organism are not mere responses to stimulation, absent

if we choose to apply no stimulus, never troubling us if we run away from

them, harmless if we enclose them within a high wall. Nor do they

constitute a mere excretion, or a mere appetite, which we can control by a

crude system of hygiene and dietetics. We better understand the

psycho-sexual constitution if we regard the motive power behind it as a

dynamic energy, produced and maintained by a complex mechanism at certain

inner foci of the body, and realise that whatever periodic explosive

manifestations may take place at the surface, the primary motive source

lies in the intimate recesses of the organism, while the outcome is the

whole physical and spiritual energy of our being under those aspects which

are most forcible and most aspiring and even most ethereal.

This conception, we find, is now receiving an admirable and beautifully

adequate physical basis in the researches of distinguished physiologists

in various lands concerning the parts played by the ductless glands of the

body, in sensitive equilibrium with each other, pouring out into the

system stimulating and inhibiting hormones, which not only confer on the

man's or woman's body those specific sexual characters which we admire but

at the same time impart the special tone and fibre and polarity of

masculinity or femininity to the psychic disposition. Yet, even before

Brown-Séquard's first epoch-making suggestion had set physiologists to

search for internal secretions, the insight of certain physicians on the

medico-psychological side was independently leading towards the same

dynamic conception. In the middle of the last century Anstie, an acute

London physician, more or less vaguely realised the transformations of

sexual energy into nervous disease and into artistic energy. James Hinton,

whose genius rendered him the precursor of many modern ideas, had

definitely grasped the dynamic nature of sexual activity, and daringly

proposed to utilise it, not only as a solution of the difficulties of the

personal life but for the revolutionary transformation of morality.[5] It

was the wish to group together all the far-flung manifestations of the

inner irresistible process of sexual activity that underlay my own

conception of _auto-erotism_, or the spontaneous erotic impulse which

arises from the organism apart from all definite external stimulation, to

be manifested, or it may be transformed, in mere solitary physical sex

activity, in dreams of the night, in day-dreams, in shapes of literature

and art, in symptoms of nervous disorder such as some forms of hysteria,

and even in the most exalted phases of mystical devotion. Since then, a

more elaborate attempt to develop a similar dynamic conception of sexual

activity has been made by Freud; and the psycho-analysts who have followed

him, or sometimes diverged, have with endless subtlety, and courageous

thoroughness, traced the long and sinuous paths of sexual energy in

personality and in life, indeed in all the main manifestations of human

activity.

[5] "The man who separated the thought of chastity from Service and made

it revolve round Self," wrote Hinton half a century ago in his

unpublished MSS., "betrayed the human race." "The rule of Self," he

wrote again, "has two forms: Self-indulgence and Self-virtue; and Nature

has two weapons against it: pain and pleasure.... A restraint must

always be put away when another's need can be served by putting it away;

for so is restored to us the force by which Life is made.... How curious

it seems! the true evil things are our _good_ things. Our thoughts of

duty and goodness and chastity, those are the things that need to be

altered and put aside; these are the barriers to true goodness.... I

foresee the positive denial of _all_ positive morals, the removal of

_all_ restrictions. I feel I do not know what 'license,' as we should

term it, may not truly belong to the perfect state of Man. When there is

no self surely there is no restriction; as we see there is none in

Nature.... May we not say of marriage as St. Augustine said of God:

'Rather would I, not finding, find Thee, than finding, not find

Thee'?... 'Because we like' is the sole legitimate and perfect motive of

human action.... If this is what Nature affirms then it will be what I

believe." This dynamic conception of the sexual impulse, as a force

that, under natural conditions, may be trusted to build up a new

morality, obviously belongs to an indefinitely remote future. It is a

force whose blade is two-edged, for while it strikes at unselfishness it

also strikes at selfishness, and at present we cannot easily conceive a

time when "there is no self"; we should be more disposed to regard it as

a time when there is much humbug. Yet for the individual this conception

of the constructive power of love retains much enlightenment and

inspiration.

It is important for us to note about this dynamic sexual energy in the

constitution that while it is very firmly and organically rooted, and

quite indestructible, it assumes very various shapes. On the physical side

all the characters of sexual distinction and all the beauties of sexual

adornment are wrought by the power furnished by the co-operating furnaces

of the glands, and so also, on the psychic side, are emotions and impulses

which range from the simplest longings for sensual contact to the most

exalted rapture of union with the Infinite. Moreover, there is a certain

degree of correlation between the physical and the psychic manifestation

of sexual energy, and, to some extent, transformation is possible in the

embodiment of that energy.

A vague belief in the transformation of sexual energy has long been

widespread. It is apparently shown in the idea that continence, as an

economy in the expenditure of sexual force, may be practised to aid the

physical and mental development, while folklore reveals various sayings in

regard to the supposed influence of sexual abstinence in the causation of

insanity. There is a certain underlying basis of reason in such beliefs,

though in an unqualified form they cannot be accepted, for they take no

account of the complexity of the factors involved, of the difficulty and

often impossibility of effecting any complete transformation, either in a

desirable or undesirable direction, and of the serious conflict which the

process often involves. The psycho-analysts have helped us here. Whether

or not we accept their elaborate and often shifting conceptions, they have

emphasised and developed a psychological conception of sexual energy and

its transformations, before only vaguely apprehended, which is now seen to

harmonise with the modern physiological view.

The old notion that sexual activity is merely a matter of the voluntary

exercise, or abstinence from exercise, of the reproductive functions of

adult persons has too long obstructed any clear vision of the fact that

sexuality, in the wide and deep sense, is independent of the developments

of puberty. This has long been accepted as an occasional and therefore

abnormal fact, but we have to recognise that it is true, almost or quite

normally, even of early childhood. No doubt we must here extend the word

"sexuality"[6]--in what may well be considered an illegitimate way--to

cover manifestations which in the usual sense are not sexual or are at

most called "sexual perversions." But this extension has a certain

justification in view of the fact that these manifestations can be seen to

be definitely related to the ordinary adult forms of sexuality. However

we define it, we have to recognise that the child takes the same kind of

pleasure in those functions which are natural to his age as the adult is

capable of taking in localised sexual functions, that he may weave ideas

around such functions, sometimes cultivate their exercise from love of

luxury, make them the basis of day-dreams which at puberty, when the

ideals of adult life are ready to capture his sexual energy, he begins to

grow ashamed of.

[6] Perhaps, as applied to the period below puberty, it would be more

exact to say "pseudo-sexuality." Matsumato has lately pointed out the

significance of the fact that the interstitial testicular tissue,

essential to the hormonic function of the testes, only becomes active at

puberty.

At this stage, indeed, we reach a crucial point, though it has usually

been overlooked, in the lives of boys and girls, more especially those

whose heredity may have been a little tainted or their upbringing a little

twisted. For it is here that the transformation of energy and the

resulting possibilities of conflict are wont to enter. In the harmoniously

developing organism, one may say, there is at this period a gradual and

easy transmutation of the childish pleasurable activities into adult

activities, accompanied perhaps by a feeling of shame for the earlier

feelings, though this quickly passes into a forgetfulness which often

leads the adult far astray when he attempts to understand the psychic life

of the child. The childish manifestations, it must be remarked, are not

necessarily unwholesome; they probably perform a valuable function and

develop budding sexual emotions, just as the petals of flowers are

developed in pale and contorted shapes beneath the enveloping sheaths.

But in our human life the transmutation is often not so easy as in

flowers. Normally, indeed, the adolescent transformations of sex are so

urgent and so manifold--now definite sensual desire, now muscular impulses

of adventure, now emotional aspirations in the sphere of art or

religion--that they easily overwhelm and absorb all its vaguer and more

twisted manifestations in childhood. Yet it may happen that by some

aberration of internal development or of external influence this

conversion of energy may at one point or another fail to be completely

effected. Then some fragment of infantile sexuality survives, in rare

cases to turn all the adult faculties to its service and become reckless

and triumphant, in minor and more frequent cases to be subordinated and

more or less repressed into the subconscious sphere by voluntary or even

involuntary and unconscious effort. Then we may have conflict, which, when

it works happily, exerts a fortifying and ennobling influence on

character, when more unhappily a disturbing influence which may even lead

to conditions of definite nervous disorder.

The process by which this fundamental sexual energy is elevated from

elementary and primitive forms into complex and developed forms is termed

sublimation, a term, originally used for the process of raising by heat a

solid substance to the state of vapour, which was applied even by such

early writers as Drayton and Davies in a metaphorical and spiritual

sense.[7] In the sexual sphere sublimation is of vital importance because

it comes into question throughout the whole of life, and our relation to

it must intimately affect our conception of morality. The element of

athletic asceticism which is a part of all virility, and is found

even--indeed often in a high degree--among savages, has its main moral

justification as one aid to sublimation. Throughout life sublimation acts

by transforming some part at all events of the creative sexual energy from

its elementary animal manifestations into more highly individual and

social manifestations, or at all events into finer forms of sexual

activity, forms that seem to us more beautiful and satisfy us more widely.

Purity, we thus come to see is, in one aspect, the action of sublimation,

not abolishing sexual activity, but lifting it into forms of which our

best judgment may approve.

[7] We may gather the history of the term from the _Oxford Dictionary_.

Bodies, said Davies, are transformed to spirit "by sublimation strange,"

and Ben Jonson in _Cynthia's Revels_ spoke of a being "sublimated and

refined"; Purchas and Jackson, early in the same seventeenth century,

referred to religion as "sublimating" human nature, and Jeremy Taylor, a

little later, to "subliming" marriage into a sacrament; Shaftesbury,

early in the eighteenth century, spoke of human nature being "sublimated

by a sort of spiritual chemists" and Welton, a little later, of "a love

sublimate and refined," while, finally, and altogether in our modern

sense, Peacock in 1816 in his _Headlong Hall_ referred to "that

enthusiastic sublimation which is the source of greatness and energy."

We must not suppose--as is too often assumed--that sublimation can be

carried out easily, completely, or even with unmixed advantage. If it were

so, certainly the old-fashioned moralist would be confronted by few

difficulties, but we have ample reason to believe that it is not so. It is

with sexual energy, well observes Freud, who yet attaches great importance

to sublimation, as it is with heat in our machines: only a certain

proportion can be transformed into work. Or, as it is put by Löwenfeld,

who is not a constructive philosopher but a careful and cautious medical

investigator, the advantages of sublimation are not received in specially

high degree by those who permanently deny to their sexual impulse every

natural direct relief. The celibate Catholic clergy, notwithstanding their

heroic achievements in individual cases, can scarcely be said to display a

conspicuous excess of intellectual energy, on the whole, over the

non-celibate Protestant clergy; or, if we compare the English clergy

before and after the Protestant Reformation, though the earlier period may

reveal more daring and brilliant personages, the whole intellectual output

of the later Church may claim comparison with that of the earlier Church.

There are clearly other factors at work besides sublimation, and even

sublimation may act most potently, not when the sexual activities sink or

are driven into a tame and monotonous subordination, but rather when they

assume a splendid energy which surges into many channels. Yet sublimation

is a very real influence, not only in its more unconscious and profound

operations, but in its more immediate and temporary applications, as part

of an athletic discipline, acting best perhaps when it acts most

automatically, to utilise the motor energy of the organism in the

attainment of any high physical or psychic achievement.

We have to realise, however, that these transmutations do not only take

place by way of a sublimation of sexual energy, but also by way of a

degradation of that energy. The new form of energy produced, that is to

say, may not be of a beneficial kind; it may be of a mischievous kind, a

form of perversion or disease. Sexual self-denial, instead of leading to

sublimation, may lead to nervous disorder when the erotic tension, failing

to find a natural outlet and not sublimated to higher erotic or non-erotic

ends in the real world, is transmuted into an unreal dreamland, thus

undergoing what Jung terms introversion; while there are also the people

already referred to, in whom immature childish sexuality persists into an

adult stage of development it is no longer altogether in accord with, so

that conflict, with various possible trains of nervous symptoms, may

result. Disturbances and conflicts in the emotional sexual field may, we

know, in these and similar ways become transformed into physical symptoms

of disorder which can be seen to have a precise symbolic relationship to

definite events in the patient's emotional history, while fits of nervous

terror, or anxiety-neurosis, may frequently be regarded as a degradation

of thwarted or disturbed sexual energy, manifesting its origin by

presenting a picture of sexual excitation transposed into a non-sexual

shape of an entirely useless or mischievous character.

Thus, to sum up, we may say that the sexual energy of the organism is a

mighty force, automatically generated throughout life. Under healthy

conditions that force is transmuted in more or less degree, but never

entirely, into forms that further the development of the individual and

the general ends of life. These transformations are to some extent

automatic, to some extent within the control of personal guidance. But

there are limits to such guidance, for the primitive human personality can

never be altogether rendered an artificial creature of civilisation. When

these limits are reached the transmutation of sexual energy may become

useless or even dangerous, and we fail to attain the exquisite flower of

Purity.

III

It may seem that in setting forth the nature of the sexual impulse in the

light of modern biology and psychology, I have said but little of purity

and less of morality. Yet that is as it should be. We must first be

content to see how the machine works and watch the wheels go round. We

must understand before we can pretend to control; in the natural world, as

Bacon long ago said, we can only command by obeying. Moreover, in this

field Nature's order is far older and more firmly established than our

civilised human morality. In our arrogance we often assume that Morality

is the master of Nature. Yet except when it is so elementary or

fundamental as to be part of Nature, it is but a guide, and a guide that

is only a child, so young, so capricious, that in every age its wayward

hand has sought to pull Nature in a different direction. Even only in

order to guide we must first see and know.

We realise that never more than when we observe the distinction which

conventional sex-morals so often makes between men and women. Failing to

find in women exactly the same kind of sexual emotions, as they find in

themselves, men have concluded that there are none there at all. So man

has regarded himself as the sexual animal, and woman as either the passive

object of his adoring love or the helpless victim of his degrading lust,

in either case as a being who, unlike man, possessed an innocent "purity"

by nature, without any need for the trouble of acquiring it. Of woman as a

real human being, with sexual needs and sexual responsibilities, morality

has often known nothing. It has been content to preach restraint to man,

an abstract and meaningless restraint even if it were possible. But when

we have regard to the actual facts of life, we can no longer place virtue

in a vacuum. Women are just as apt as men to be afflicted by the petty

jealousies and narrownesses of the crude sexual impulse; women just as

much as men need the perpetual sublimation of erotic desire into forms of

more sincere purity, of larger harmony, in gaining which ends all the

essential ends of morality are alone gained. The delicate adjustment of

the needs of each sex to the needs of the other sex to the end of what

Chaucer called fine loving, the adjustment of the needs of both sexes to

the larger ends of fine living, may well furnish a perpetual moral

discipline which extends its fortifying influence to men and women alike.

It is this universality of sexual emotion, blending in its own mighty

stream, as is now realised, many other currents of emotion, even the

parental and the filial, and traceable even in childhood,--the wide

efflorescence of an energy constantly generated by a vital internal

mechanism,--which renders vain all attempts either to suppress or to

ignore the problem of sex, however immensely urgent we might foolishly

imagine such attempts to be. Even the history of the early Christian

ascetics in Egypt, as recorded in the contemporary _Paradise_ of

Palladius, illustrates the futility of seeking to quench the unquenchable,

the flame of fire which is life itself. These "athletes of the Lord" were

under the best possible conditions for the conquest of lust; they had been

driven into the solitude of the desert by a genuine deeply-felt impulse,

they could regulate their lives as they would, and they possessed an

almost inconceivable energy of resolution. They were prepared to live on

herbs, even to eat grass, and to undertake any labour of self-denial. They

were so scrupulous that we hear of a holy man who would even efface a

woman's footprints in the sand lest a brother might thereby be led into

thoughts of evil. Yet they were perpetually tempted to seductive visions

and desires, even after a monastic life of forty years, and the women seem

to have been not less liable to yield to temptation than the men.

It may be noted that in the most perfect saints there has not always been

a complete suppression of the sexual impulse even on the normal plane, nor

even, in some cases, the attempt at such complete suppression. In the

early days of Christianity the exercise of chastity was frequently

combined with a close and romantic intimacy of affection between the

sexes which shocked austere moralists. Even in the eleventh century we

find that the charming and saintly Robert of Arbrissel, founder of the

order of Fontevrault, would often sleep with his nuns, notwithstanding the

remonstrances of pious friends who thought he was displaying too heroic a

manifestation of continence, failing to understand that he was effecting a

sweet compromise with continence. If, moreover, we consider the rarest and

finest of the saints we usually find that in their early lives there was a

period of full expansion of the organic activities in which all the

natural impulses had full play. This was the case with the two greatest

and most influential saints of the Christian Church, St. Augustine and St.

Francis of Assisi, absolutely unlike as they were in most other respects.

Sublimation, we see again and again, is limited, and the best developments

of the spiritual life are not likely to come about by the rigid attempt to

obtain a complete transmutation of sexual energy.

The old notion that any strict attempt to adhere to sexual abstinence is

beset by terrible risks, insanity and so forth, has no foundation, at all

events where we are concerned with reasonably sound and healthy people.

But it is a very serious error to suppose that the effort to achieve

complete and prolonged sexual abstinence is without any bad results at

all, physical or psychic, either in men or women who are normal and

healthy. This is now generally recognised everywhere, except in the

English-speaking countries, where the supposed interests of a prudish

morality often lead to a refusal to look facts in the face. As Professor

Näcke, a careful and cautious physician, stated shortly before his death,

a few years ago, the opinion that sexual abstinence has no bad effects is

not to-day held by a single authority on questions of sex; the fight is

only concerned with the nature and degree of the bad effects which, in

Näcke's belief--and he was doubtless right--are never of a gravely serious

character.

Yet we have also to remember that not only, as we have seen, is the effort

to achieve complete abstinence--which we ignorantly term "purity"--futile,

since we are concerned with a force which is being constantly generated

within the organism, but in the effort to achieve it we are abusing a

great source of beneficent energy. We lose more than half of what we might

gain when we cover it up, and try to push it back, to produce, it may be,

not harmonious activity in the world, but merely internal confusion and

distortion, and perhaps the paralysis of half the soul's energy. The

sexual activities of the organism, we cannot too often repeat, constitute

a mighty source of energy which we can never altogether repress though by

wise guidance we may render it an aid not only to personal development

and well-being but to the moral betterment of the world. The attraction of

sex, according to a superstition which reaches far back into antiquity, is

a baleful comet pointing to destruction, rather than a mighty star to

which we may harness our chariot. It may certainly be either, and which it

is likely to become depends largely on our knowledge and our power of

self-guidance.

In old days when, as we have seen, tradition, aided by the most fantastic

superstitions, insisted on the baleful aspects of sex, the whole emphasis

was placed against passion. Since knowledge and self-guidance, without

which passion is likely to be in fact pernicious, were then usually

absent, the emphasis was needed, and when Böhme, the old mystic, declared

that the art of living is to "harness our fiery energies to the service of

the light," it has recently been even maintained that he was the solitary

pioneer of our modern doctrines. But the ages in which ill-regulated

passion exceeded--ages at least full of vitality and energy--gave place to

a more anæmic society. To-day the conditions are changed, even reversed.

Moral maxims that were wholesome in feudal days are deadly now. We are in

no danger of suffering from too much vitality, from too much energy in the

explosive splendour of our social life. We possess, moreover, knowledge

in plenty and self-restraint in plenty, even in excess, however wrongly

they may sometimes be applied. It is passion, more passion and fuller,

that we need. The moralist who bans passion is not of our time; his place

these many years is with the dead. For we know what happens in a world

when those who ban passion have triumphed. When Love is suppressed Hate

takes its place. The least regulated orgies of Love grow innocent beside

the orgies of Hate. When nations that might well worship one another cut

one another's throats, when Cruelty and Self-righteousness and Lying and

Injustice and all the Powers of Destruction rule the human heart, the

world is devastated, the fibre of the whole organism, of society grows

flaccid, and all the ideals of civilisation are debased. If the world is

not now sick of Hate we may be sure it never will be; so whatever may

happen to the world let us remember that the individual is still left, to

carry on the tasks of Love, to do good even in an evil world.

It is more passion and ever more that we need if we are to undo the work

of Hate, if we are to add to the gaiety and splendour of life, to the sum

of human achievement, to the aspiration of human ecstasy. The things that

fill men and women with beauty and exhilaration, and spur them to actions

beyond themselves, are the things that are now needed. The entire

intrinsic purification of the soul, it was held by the great Spanish

Jesuit theologian, Suarez, takes place at the moment when, provided the

soul is of good disposition, it sees God; he meant after death, but for us

the saying is symbolic of the living truth. It is only in the passion of

facing the naked beauty of the world and its naked truth that we can win

intrinsic purity. Not all, indeed, who look upon the face of God can live.

It is not well that they should live. It is only the metals that can be

welded in the fire of passion to finer services that the world needs. It

would be well that the rest should be lost in those flames. That indeed

were a world fit to perish, wherein the moralist had set up the ignoble

maxim: Safety first.

Little Essays of Love and Virtue · 第 2 / 7 章