Section 74. (b) Honesty.

We shall speak here only of the honesty of the sort of women the courts

have most to do with, and in this regard there is little to give us joy.

Not to be honest, and to lie, are two different things; the latter is

positive, the former negative, the dishonest person does not tell the

truth, the liar tells the untruth. It is dishonest to suppress a portion

of the truth, to lead others into mistakes, to fail to justify

appearances, and to make use of appearances. The dishonest person may

not have said a single untrue word and still have introduced many more

difficulties, confusions and deceptions than the liar. He is for this

reason more dangerous than the latter. Also, because his conduct is more

difficult to uncover and because he is more difficult to conquer than

the liar. Dishonesty is, however, a specially feminine characteristic,

and in men occurs only when they are effeminate. Real manliness and

dishonesty are concepts which can not be united. Hence, the popular

proverb says, “Women always tell the truth, but not the whole truth.”

And this is more accurate than the accusation of many writers, that

women lie. I do not believe that the criminal courts can verify the

latter accusation. I do not mean that women never lie--they lie

enough--but they do not lie more than men do, and none of us would

attribute lying to women as a sexual trait. To do so, would be to

confuse dishonesty with lying.

It would be a mistake to deal too sternly in court with the dishonesty

of women, for we ourselves and social conditions are responsible for

much of it. We dislike to use the right names of things and choose

rather to suggest, to remain in embarrassed silence, or to blush. Hence,

it is too much to ask that this round-aboutness should be set aside in

the courtroom, where circumstances make straight talking even more

difficult. According to Lombroso,[272] women lie because of their

weaknesses, and because of menstruation and pregnancy, for which they

have in conversation to substitute other illnesses; because of the

feeling of shame, because of the sexual selection which compels them to

conceal age, defects, diseases; because finally of their desire to be

interesting, their suggestibility, and their small powers of judgment.

All these things tend to make them lie, and then as mothers they have to

deceive their children about many things. Indeed, they are themselves no

more than children, Lombroso concludes. But it is a mistake to suppose

that these conditions lead to lying, for women generally acquire

silence, some other form of action, or the negative propagation of

error. But this is essentially dishonesty. To assert that deception,

lying, have become physiological properties of women is, therefore,

wrong. According to Lotze, women hate analysis and hence can not

distinguish between the true and the false, but then women hate

analysis only when it is applied to themselves. A woman does not want

to be analyzed herself simply because analysis would reveal a great deal

of dishonesty; she is therefore a stranger to thorough-going honest

activity. But for this men are to blame. Nobody, as Flaubert says, tells

women the truth. And when once they hear it they fight it as something

extraordinary. They are not even honest with themselves. But this is not

only true in general; it is true also in particular cases which the

court room sees. We ourselves make honesty difficult to women before the

court. Of course, I do not mean that to avoid this we are to be rude and

shameless in our conversation with women, but it is certain that we

compel them to be dishonest by our round-about handling of every

ticklish subject. Any half-experienced criminal justice knows that much

more progress can be made by simple and absolutely open discussion. A

highly educated woman with whom I had a frank talk about such a matter,

said at the end of this very painful sitting, “Thank God, that you spoke

frankly and without prudery--I was very much afraid that by foolish

questions you might compel me to prudish answers and hence, to complete

dishonesty.”

We have led women so far by our indirection that according to Stendhal,

to be honest, is to them identical with appearing naked in public.

Balzac asks, “Have you ever observed a lie in the attitude and manner of

woman? Deceit is as easy to them as falling snow in heaven.” But this is

true only if he means dishonesty. It is not true that it is easy for

women really to lie. I do not know whether this fact can be proven, but

I am sure the feminine malease in lying can be observed. The play of

features, the eyes, the breast, the attitude, betrays almost always even

the experienced female offender. Now, nothing can reveal the play of her

essential dishonesty. If a man once confesses, he confesses with less

constraint than a woman, and he is less likely, even if he is very bad,

to take advantage of false favorable appearances, while woman accepts

them with the semblance of innocence. If a man has not altogether given

a complete version, his failure is easy to recognize by his hesitation,

but the opinions of woman always have a definite goal, even though she

should tell us only a tenth of what she might know and say.

Even her simplest affirmation or denial is not honest. Her “no” is not

definite; e.g., her “no” to a man’s demands. Still further, when a man

affirms or denies and there is some limitation to his assertion. He

either announces it expressly or the more trained ear recognizes its

presence in the failure to conclude, in a hesitation of the tone. But

the woman says “yes” and “no,” even when only a small portion of one or

the other asserts a truth behind which she can hide herself, and this is

a matter to keep in mind in the courtroom.

Also the art of deception or concealment depends on dishonesty rather

than on pure deceit, because it consists much more in the use of

whatever is at hand, and in suppression of material, than on direct

lies. So, when the proverb says that a woman was ill only three times

during the course of the year, but each time for four months, it will be

unjust to say that she intentionally denies a year-long illness. She

does not, but as a matter of fact, she is ill at least thirteen times a

year, and besides, her weak physique causes her to feel frequently

unwell. So she does not lie about her illness. But then she does not

immediately announce her recovery and permits people to nurse and

protect her even when she has no need of it. Perhaps she does so

because, in the course of the centuries, she found it necessary to

magnify her little troubles in order to protect herself against brutal

men, and had, therefore, to forge the weapon of dishonesty. So

Schopenhauer agrees: “Nature has given women only one means of

protection and defence--hypocrisy; this is congenital with them, and the

use of it is as natural as the animal’s use of its claws. Women feel

they have a certain degree of justification for their hypocrisy.”

With this hypocrisy we have, as lawyers, to wage a constant battle.

Quite apart from the various ills and diseases which women assume before

the judge, everything else is pretended; innocence, love of children,

spouses, and parents; pain at loss and despair at reproaches; a breaking

heart at separation; and piety,--in short, whatever may be useful. This

subjects the examining justice to the dangers and difficulties of being

either too harsh, or being fooled. He can save himself much trouble by

remembering that in this simulation there is much dishonesty and few

lies. The simulation is rarely thorough-going, it is an intensification

of something actually there.

And now think of the tears which are wept before every man, and not

least, before the criminal judge. Popular proverbs tend to undervalue,

often to distrust tearful women. Mantegazza[273] points out that every

man over thirty can recall scenes in which it was difficult to determine

how much of a woman’s tears meant real pain, and how much was

voluntarily shed. In the notion that tears represent a mixture of poetry

and truth, we shall find the correct solution. It would be interesting

to question female virtuosos in tears (when women see that they can

really teach they are quite often honest) about the matter. The

questioner would inevitably learn that it is impossible to weep at will

and without reason. Only a child can do that. Tears require a definite

reason and a certain amount of time which may be reduced by great

practice to a minimum, but even that minimum requires some duration.

Stories in novels and comic papers in which women weep bitterly about a

denied new coat, are fairy tales; in point of fact the lady begins by

feeling hurt because her husband refused to buy her the thing, then she

thinks that he has recently refused to buy her a dress, and to take her

to the theatre; that at the same time he looks unfriendly and walks away

to the window; that indeed, she is really a pitiful, misunderstood,

immeasurably unhappy woman, and after this crescendo, which often occurs

presto prestissimo, the stream of tears breaks through. Some tiny

reason, a little time, a little auto-suggestion, and a little

imagination,--these can keep every woman weeping eternally, and these

tears can always leave us cold. Beware, however, of the silent tears of

real pain, especially of hurt innocence. These must not be mistaken for

the first. If they are, much harm may be done, for these tears, if they

do not represent penitence for guilt, are real evidences of innocence. I

once believed that the surest mark of such tears was the deceiving

attempt to beat down and suppress them; an attempt which is made with

elementary vigor. But even this attempt to fight them off is frequently

not quite real.

As with tears, so with fainting. The greater number of fainting fits are

either altogether false, or something between fainting and wakefulness.

Women certainly, whether as prisoners or witnesses, are often very

uncomfortable in court, and if the discomfort is followed immediately by

illness, dizziness, and great fear, fainting is natural. If only a

little exaggeration, auto-suggestion, relaxation, and the attempt to

dodge the unpleasant circumstance are added, then the fainting fit is

ready to order, and the effect is generally in favor of the fainter.

Although it is wrong to assume beforehand that fainting is a comedy, it

is necessary to beware of deception.

An interesting question, which, thank heaven, does not concern the

criminal justice, is whether women can keep their word. When a

criminalist permits a woman to promise not to tell anybody else of her

testimony, or some similar naïveté, he may settle his account with his

conscience. The criminalist must not accept promises at all, and he is

only getting his reward when women fool him. The fact is, that woman

does not know the definite line between right and wrong. Or better, she

draws the line in a different way; sometimes more sharply, but in the

main more broadly than man, and in many cases she does not at all

understand that certain distinctions are not permitted. This occurs

chiefly where the boundaries are really unstable, or where it is not

easy to understand the personality of the sufferer. Hence, it is always

difficult to make woman understand that state, community, or other

public weal, must in and for themselves be sacred against all harm. The

most honest and pious woman is not only without conscience with regard

to dodging her taxes, she also finds great pleasure in having done so

successfully. It does not matter what it is she smuggles, she is glad to

smuggle successfully, but smuggling is not, as might be supposed, a

sport for women, though women need more nervous excitement and sport

than men. Their attitude shows that they are really unable to see that

they are running into danger because they are violating the law. When

you tell them that the state is justified in forbidding smuggling, they

always answer that they have smuggled such a very little, that nobody

would miss the duties. Then the interest in smugglers and

smuggling-stories is exceedingly great. We once had a girl who was born

on the boundary between Italy and Austria. Her father was a notorious

smuggler, the chief of a band that brought coffee and silk across the

border. He grew rich in the trade, but he lost everything in an

especially great venture, and was finally shot by the customs-officers

at the boundary. If you could see with what interest, spirit, and

keenness the girl described her father’s dubious courses you would

recognize that she had not the slightest idea that there was anything

wrong in what he was doing.

Women, moreover, do not understand the least regulation. I frequently

have had cases in which even intelligent women could not see why it was

wrong to make a “small” change in a public register; why it was wrong to

give, in a foreign city, a false name at the hotel; or why the police

might forbid the shaking of dust-cloths over the heads of pedestrians,

even from her “own” house; why the dog must be kept chained; and what

good such “vexations” could do, anyway.

Again, tiny bits of private property are not safe from women. Note how

impossible it is to make women understand that private property is

despoiled when flowers or fruit are plucked from a private garden. The

point is so small, and as a rule, the property owner makes no

objections, but it must be granted that he has the right to do so. Then

their tendency to steal, in the country, bits of ground and boundaries

is well known. Most of the boundary cases we have, involved the activity

of some woman.

Even in their own homes women do not conceive property too rigidly. They

appropriate pen, paper, pencils, clothes, etc., without having any idea

of replacing what they have taken away. This may be confirmed by anybody

whose desk is not habitually sacrosanct, and he will agree that it is

not slovenliness, but defective sense of property that causes women to

do this, for even the most consummate housekeepers do so. This defective

property-sense is most clearly shown in the notorious fact that women

cheat at cards. According to Lombroso, an educated, much experienced

woman told him in confidence that it is difficult for her sex not to

cheat at cards. Croupiers in gambling halls know things much worse. They

say that they must watch women much more than men because they are not

only more frequent cheaters, but more expert. Even at croquet and

lawn-tennis girls are unspeakably smart about cheating if they can

thereby put their masculine opponents impudently at a disadvantage.

We find many women among swindlers, gamblers, and counterfeiters; and

moreover, we have the evidence of experienced housewives, that the

cleverest and most useful servants are frequently thievish. What is

instructive in all these facts is the indefiniteness of the boundary

between honesty and dishonesty, even in the most petty cases. The defect

in the sense of property with regard to little things explains how many

a woman became a criminal--the road she wandered on grew, step by step,

more extended. There being no definite boundary, it was inevitable that

women should go very far, and when the educated woman does nothing more

than to steal a pencil from her husband and to cheat at whist, her sole

fortune is that she does not get opportunities or needs for more serious

mistakes. The uneducated, poverty-stricken woman has, however, both

opportunity and need, and crime becomes very easy to her. Our life is

rich in experiment and our will too weak not to fail under the

exigencies of existence, if, at the outset, a slightest deviation from

the straight and narrow road is not avoided. If the justice is in doubt

whether a woman has committed a great crime against property, his study

will concern, not the deed, but the time when the woman was in

different circumstances and had no other opportunity to do wrong than

mere nibbling at and otherwise foolish abstractions from other people’s

property. If this inclination can be proved, then there is justification

for at least suspecting her of the greater crime.

The relation of women to such devilment becomes more instructive when it

has to be discovered through woman witnesses. As a rule, there is no

justification for the assumption that people are inclined to excuse

whatever they find themselves guilty of. On the contrary, we are

inclined to punish others most harshly where we ourselves are most

guilty. And there is still another side to the matter. When an honest,

well-conducted woman commits petty crimes, she does not consider them as

crimes, she is unaware of their immorality, and it would be illogical

for her to see as a crime in others that which she does not recognize as

a crime in herself. It is for this reason that she tends to excuse her

neighbor’s derelictions. Now, when we try to find out from feminine

witnesses facts concerning the objects on which we properly lay stress,

they do not answer and cause us to make mistakes. What woman thinks is

mere “sweet-tooth” in her servant girl, is larceny in criminal law; what

she calls “pin-money,” we call deceit, or violation of trust; for the

man whom the woman calls “the dragon,” we find in many cases quite

different terms. And this feminine attitude is not Christian charity,

but ignorance of the law, and with this ignorance we have to count when

we examine witnesses. Of course, not only concerning some theft by a

servant girl, but always when we are trying to understand some human

weakness.

From honesty to loyalty is but a step. Often these traits lie side by

side or overlap each other. Now, the criminal justice has, more

frequently than appears, to deal with feminine loyalty. Problems of

adultery are generally of subordinate significance only, but this

loyalty or disloyalty often plays the most important rôle in trials of

all conceivable crimes, and the whole problem of evidence takes a

different form according to the assumption that this loyalty does, or

does not, exist. Whether it is the murder of a husband, doubtful

suicide, physical mutilation, theft, perversion of trust, arson, the

case takes a different form if feminine disloyalty can be proved. The

rare reference to this important premise in the presentation of evidence

is due to the fact that we are ignorant of its significance, that its

determinative factors are hidden, and finally that its presentation is

as a rule difficult.

Public opinion on feminine loyalty is not flattering. Diderot asserts

that there is no loyal woman who has not ceased being so, at least, in

her imagination. Of course this does not mean much, for all of us have

ideally committed many sins, but if Diderot is right, one may assume a

feminine inclination to disloyalty. Most responsible for this is, of

course, the purely sexual character of woman, but we must not do her the

injustice, and ourselves the harm, of supposing that this character is

the sole regulative principle; the illimitable feminine need for change

is also responsible to a great degree. I doubt whether it could be

proved in any collection of cases worth naming that a woman grew

disloyal although her sexual needs were small; but that her sex does so

is certain, and thence we must seek other reasons for their disloyalty.

The love of change is fundamental and may be observed in recorded

criminal cases. “Even educated women,” says Goltz,[274] “can not bear

continuous and uniform good fortune, and feel an inconceivable impulse

to devilment and foolishness in order to get some variety in life.” Now

it will be much easier for the judge to determine whether the woman in

the case had at the critical time an especial inclination to this

“devilment,” than to discover whether her own husband was sexually

insufficient, or whatever similar secrets might be involved.

If woman, however, once has the impulse to seek variety, and the

harmless and permissible changes she may provide herself are no longer

sufficient or are lacking, the movement of her daily life takes a

questionable direction. Then there is a certain tendency to deceit which

is able to bring its particular consequences to bear. A woman has

married, let us say, for love, or for money, for spite, to please her

parents, etc., etc. Now come moments in her life in which she reflects

concerning “her” reason for marriage, and the cause of these moments

will almost always be her husband, i.e., he may have been ill-mannered,

have demanded too much, have refused something, have neglected her,

etc., and thus have wounded her so that her mood, when thinking of the

reason of her marriage, is decidedly bad, and she begins to doubt

whether her love was really so strong, whether the money was worth the

trouble, whether she ought not to have opposed her parents, etc. And

suppose she had waited, might she not have done better? Had she not

deserved better? Every step in her musing takes her farther from her

husband. A man is nothing to a woman to whom he is not everything, and

if he is nothing he deserves no especial consideration, and if he is

undeserving, a little disloyalty is not so terrible, and finally, the

little disloyalty gradually and naturally and smoothly leads to

adultery, and adultery to a chain of crimes. That this process is not a

thousand times more frequent, is merely due to the accident that the

right man is not at hand during these so-called weak moments. Millions

of women who boast of their virtue, and scorn others most nobly, have to

thank their boasted virtue only to this accident. If the right man had

been present at the right time they would have had no more ground for

pride. There is only a simple and safe method for discovering whether a

woman is loyal to her husband--lead her to say whether her husband

neglects her. Every woman who complains that her husband neglects her is

an adulteress or in the way of becoming one, for she seeks the most

thrifty, the really sound reason which would justify adultery. How close

she has come to this sin is easily discoverable from the degree of

intensity with which she accuses her husband.

Besides adultery, the disloyalty of widow and of bride, there is also

another sense in which disloyalty may be important. The first is

important only when we have to infer some earlier condition, and we are

likely to commit injustice if we judge the conduct of the wife by the

conduct of the widow. As a rule there are no means of comparison. In

numerous cases the wife loves her husband and is loyal to him even

beyond the grave, but these cases always involve older women whom lust

no longer affects. If the widow is at all young, pretty, and

comparatively rich, she forgets her husband. If she has forgotten him,

if after a very short time she has again found a lover and a husband,

whether for “the sake of the poor children,” or because “my first one,

of blessed memory, desired it,” or because “the second and the first

look so much alike,” or whatever other reason she might give, there is

still no ground for supposing that she did not love her first husband,

was disloyal to him, robbed and murdered him. She might have borne the

happiest relations with him; but he is dead, and a dead man is no man.

There are, again, cases in which the almost immediate marriage of a

new-made widow implies all kinds of things, and often reveals in the

person of the second husband the murderer of the first. When suspicions

of such a situation occur, it is obviously necessary to go very slowly,

but the first thing of importance is to keep tabs carefully on the

second husband. It is exceedingly self-contradictory in a man to marry a

woman he knows to have murdered her first husband--but if he had cared

only about being her lover there would not have been the necessity of

murdering the first.

The opposite of this type is anticipatory disloyalty of a woman who

marries a man in order to carry on undisturbed her love-affair with

another. That there are evil consequences in most cases is easy to see.

Such marriages occur very frequently among peasants. The woman, e.g., is

in love with the son of a wealthy widower. The son owns nothing, or the

father refuses his permission, so the woman makes a fool of the father

by marrying him and carries on her amour with the son, doubly sinful.

Instead of a son, the lover may be only a servant, and then the couple

rob the husband thoroughly--especially if the second wife has no

expectations of inheritance, there being children of a former marriage.

Variations on this central theme occur as the person of the lover

changes to neighbor, cousin, friend, etc., but the type is obvious, and

it is necessary to consider its possibilities whenever suspicion arises.

The disloyalty of a bride--well, we will not bother with this poetical

subject. Everybody knows how merciless a girl can be, how she leaves her

lover for practical, or otherwise ignoble reasons, and everybody knows

the consequences of such things.[275]

Criminal Psychology: A Manual for Judges, Practitioners, and Students · 第 41 / 79 章