The sense of smell would be of great importance for legal consideration
if it could get the study it deserves. It may be said that many men have
more acute olfactory powers than they know, and that they may learn more
by means of them than by means of the other senses. The sense of smell
has little especial practical importance. It only serves to supply a
great many people with occasional disagreeable impressions, and what men
fail to find especially necessary they do not easily make use of. The
utility of smell would be great because it is accurate, and hence
powerful in its associative quality. But it is rarely attended to; even
when the associations are awakened they are not ascribed to the sense of
smell but are said to be accidental. I offer one example only, of this
common fact. When I was a child of less than eight years, I once visited
with my parents a priest who was a school-mate of my father’s. The day
spent in the parsonage contained nothing remarkable, so that all these
years I have not even thought of it. A short time ago all the details I
encountered on that day occurred to me very vividly, and inasmuch as
this sudden memory seemed baseless, I studied carefully the cause of its
occurrence, without success. A short time later I had the same
experience and at the same place. This was a clew, and I then recalled
that I had undertaken a voyage of discovery with the small niece of the
parson and had been led into a fruit cellar. There I found great heaps
of apples laid on straw, and on the wall a considerable number of the
hunting boots of the parson. The mixed odors of apple, straw and boots
constituted a unique and long unsmelled perfume which had sunk deep into
my memory. And as I passed a room which contained the same elements of
odor, all those things that were associated with that odor at the time I
first smelt it, immediately recurred.
Everybody experiences such associations in great number, and in
examinations a little trouble will bring them up, especially when the
question deals with remote events, and a witness tells about some
“accidental” idea of his. If the accident is considered to be an
association and studied in the light of a memory of odor, one may often
succeed in finding the right clew and making progress.
But accurate as the sense of smell is, it receives as a rule little
consideration, and when some question concerning smell is put the answer
is generally negative. Yet in no case may a matter be so easily
determined as in this one; one may without making even the slightest
suggestion, succeed in getting the witness to confess that he had
smelled something. Incidentally, one may succeed in awakening such
impressions as have not quite crossed the threshold of consciousness, or
have been subdued and diverted. Suppose, e.g., that a witness has
smelled fire, but inasmuch as he was otherwise engaged was not fully
conscious of it or did not quite notice it, or explained it to himself
as some kitchen odor or the odor of a bad cigar. Such perceptions are
later forgotten, but with proper questioning are faithfully and
completely brought to memory.
Obviously much depends on whether anybody likes certain delicate odors
or not. As a rule it may be held that a delicate sense of smell is
frequently associated with nervousness. Again, people with broad
nostrils and well developed foreheads, who keep their mouths closed most
of the time, have certainly a delicate sense of smell. People of
lymphatic nature, with veiled unclear voices, do not have a keen sense
of smell, and still duller is that of snufflers and habitual smokers. Up
to a certain degree, practice may do much, but too much of it dulls the
sense of smell. Butchers, tobacconists, perfumers, not only fail to
perceive the odors which dominate their shops; their sense of smell has
been dulled, anyway. On the other hand, those who have to make delicate
distinctions by means of their sense, like apothecaries, tea dealers,
brewers, wine tasters, etc. achieve great skill. I remember that one
time when I had in court to deal almost exclusively with gypsies, I
could immediately smell whether any gypsies had been brought there
during the night.
Very nervous persons develop a delicateness and acuteness of smell which
other persons do not even imagine. Now we have no real knowledge of how
odors arise. That they are not the results of the radiation of very tiny
parts is shown by the fact that certain bodies smell though they are
known not to give off particles. Zinc, for example, and such things as
copper, sulphur, and iron, have individual odors; the latter,
particularly when it is kept polished by a great deal of
friction,--e.g., in the cases of chains, key-rings kept in the pocket.
In defining the impressions of smell great difficulties occur. Even
normal individuals often have a passionate love for odors that are
either indifferent or disgusting to others (rotten apples, wet sponges,
cow-dung, and the odor of a horse-stable, garlic, assafoetida, very ripe
game, etc.). The same individual finds the odor of food beautiful when
hungry, pleasant when full-fed, and unendurable when he has migraine. It
would be necessary to make an accurate description of these differences
and all their accompanying circumstances. With regard to sex, the sense
of smell, according to Lombroso,[185] is twice as fine in men as in
women. This is verified by Lombroso’s pupils Ottolenghi and Sicard,
Roncoroni and Francis Galton. Experience of daily life does not confirm
this, though many smokers among men rarely possess acute sense of smell,
and this raises the percentage considerably in favor of women.