Chapter 3

"About the questions on 'Calamus,' etc., they quite daze me.Leaves of Grassis only to be rightly construed by and within its own atmosphere and essential character—all its pages and pieces so coming strictly under. That the 'Calamus' part has ever allowed the possibility of such construction as mentioned is terrible. I am fain to hope that the pages themselves are not to be even mentioned for such gratuitous and quite at the time undreamed and unwished possibility of morbid inferences—which are disavowed by me and seem damnable."

It would seem from this letter[96]that Whitman had neverrealized that there is any relationship whatever between the passionate emotion of physical contact from man to man, as he had experienced it and sung it, and the act which with other people he would regard as a crime against nature. This may be singular, for there are many inverted persons who have found satisfaction in friendships less physical and passionate than those described inLeaves of Grass, but Whitman was a man of concrete, emotional, instinctive temperament, lacking in analytical power, receptive to all influences, and careless of harmonizing them. He would most certainly have refused to admit that he was the subject of inverted sexuality. It remains true, however, that "manly love" occupies in his work a predominance which it would scarcely hold in the feelings of the "average man," whom Whitman wishes to honor. A normally constituted person, having assumed the very frank attitude taken up by Whitman, would be impelled to devote far more space and far more ardor to the subject of sexual relationships with women and all that is involved in maternity than is accorded to them inLeaves of Grass. Some of Whitman's extant letters to young men, though they do not throw definite light on this question, are of a very affectionate character,[97]and, although a man of remarkable physical vigor, he never felt inclined to marry.[98]It remains somewhatdifficult to classify him from the sexual point of view, but we can scarcely fail to recognize the presence of a homosexual tendency.

I should add that some friends and admirers of Whitman are not prepared to accept the evidence of the letter to Symonds. I am indebted to "Q." for the following statement of the objections:—"I think myself that it is a mistake to give much weight to this letter—perhaps a mistake to introduce it at all, since if introduced it will, of course, carry weight. And this for three or four reasons:—"1. That it is difficult to reconcile the letter itself (with its strong tone of disapprobation) with the general 'atmosphere' ofLeaves of Grass, the tenor of which is to leave everything open and free."2. That the letter is in hopeless conflict with the 'Calamus' section of poems. For, whatever moral lines Whitman may have drawn at the time of writing these poems, it seems to me quite incredible that the possibility of certain inferences, morbid or other, was undreamed of."3. That the letter was written only a few months before his last illness and death, and is the only expression of the kind that he appears to have given utterance to."4. That Symonds's letter, to which this was a reply, is not forth coming; and we consequently do not know what rash expressions it may have contained—leading Whitman (with his extreme caution) to hedge his name from possible use to justify dubious practices."I may add that I endeavored to obtain Symonds's letter, but he was unable to produce it, nor has any copy of it been found among his papers.It should be said that Whitman's attitude toward Symonds was marked by high regard and admiration. "A wonderful man is Addington Symonds," he remarked shortly before his own death; "some ways the most indicative and penetrating and significant man of our time. Symonds is a curious fellow; I love him dearly. He is of college breed and education, horribly literary and suspicious, and enjoys things. A great fellow for delving into persons and into the concrete, and even into the physiological and the gastric, and wonderfully cute." But on this occasion he delved in vain.The foregoing remarks (substantially contained in the previous editions of this book) were based mainly on the information received from J. A. Symonds's side. But of more recent years interesting light has been thrown on this remarkable letter from Walt Whitman's side. The Boswellian patience, enthusiasm, and skill which Horace Traubel has brought to his full and elaborate work, now in course of publication,With Walt Whitman in Camden, clearly reveal, in the course of various conversations, Whitman's attitude to Symonds's question and the state of mind which led up to this letter.Whitman talked to Traubel much about Symonds from the twenty-seventh of April, 1888 (very soon after the date when Traubel's work begins), onward. Symonds had written to him repeatedly, it seems, concerning the "passional relations of men with men," as Whitman expressed it. "He is always driving at me about that: is that what Calamus means?—because of me or in spite of me, is that what it means? I have said no, but no does not satisfy him. [There is, however, no record from Symonds's side of any letter by Whitman to Symonds in this sense up to this date.] But read this letter—read the whole of it: it is very shrewd, very cute, in deadliest earnest: it drives me hard, almost compels me—it is urgent, persistent: he sort of stands in the road and says 'I won't move till you answer my question.' You see, this is an old letter—sixteen years old—and he is still asking the question: he refers to it in one of his latest notes. He is surely a wonderful man—a rare, cleaned-up man—a white-souled, heroic character.... You will be writing something about Calamus some day," said W. [to Traubel], "and this letter, and what I say, may help to clear your ideas. Calamus needs clear ideas; it may be easily, innocently distorted from its natural, its motive, body of doctrine."The letter, dated Feb. 7, 1872, of some length, is then reproduced. It tells how muchLeaves of Grass, and especially the Calamus section, had helped the writer. "What the love of man for man has been in the past," Symonds wrote, "I think I know. What it is here now, I know also—alas! What you say it can and should be I dimly discern in your Poems. But this hardly satisfies me—so desirous am I of learning what you teach. Some day, perhaps,—in some form, I know not what, but in your own chosen form,—you will tell me more about the Love of Friends. Till then I wait.""Said W: 'Well, what do you think of that? Do you think that could be answered?' 'I don't see why you call that letter driving you hard. It's quiet enough—it only asks questions, and asks the questions mildly enough,' 'I suppose you are right—"drive" is not exactly the word: yet you know how I hate to be catechised. Symonds isright, no doubt, to ask the questions: I am just as much right if I do not answer them: just as much right if I do answer them. I often say to myself about Calamus—perhaps it means more or less than what I thought myself—means different: perhaps I don't know what it all means—perhaps never did know. My first instinct about all that Symonds writes is violently reactionary—is strong and brutal for no, no, no. Then the thought intervenes that I maybe do not know all my own meanings: I say to myself: "You, too, go away, come back, study your own book—as alien or stranger, study your own book, see what it amounts to." Some time or other I will have to write to him definitely about Calamus—give him my word for it what I meant or mean it to mean.'"Again, a month later (May 24, 1888), Whitman speaks to Traubel of a "beautiful letter" from Symonds. "You will see that he harps on the Calamus poems again. I don't see why it should, but his recurrence to that subject irritates me a little. I suppose you might say—why don't you shut him up by answering him? There is no logical answer to that I suppose: but I may ask in my turn: 'What right has he to ask questions anyway?'" W. laughed a bit. "Anyway the question comes back to me almost every time he writes. He is courteous enough about it—that is the reason I do not resent him. I suppose the whole thing will end in an answer some day."The letter follows. The chief point in it is that the writer hopes he has not been importunate in the question he had asked about Calamus three years before."I [Traubel] said to W.: 'That's a humble letter enough: I don't see anything in that to get excited about. He doesn't ask you to answer the old question. In fact he rather apologizes for having asked it.' W. fired up 'Who is excited? As to that question, he does ask it again and again: asks it, asks it, asks it.' I laughed at his vehemence. 'Well, suppose he does? It does not harm. Besides, you've got nothing to hide. I think your silence might lead him to suppose there was a nigger in your wood pile.' 'Oh, nonsense! But for thirty years my enemies and friends have been asking me questions about theLeaves: I'm tired of not answering questions.' It was very funny to see his face when he gave a humorous twist to the fling in his last phrase. Then he relaxed and added: 'Anyway I love Symonds. Who could fail to love a man who could write such a letter? I suppose he will yet have to be answered, damn 'im!'"

I should add that some friends and admirers of Whitman are not prepared to accept the evidence of the letter to Symonds. I am indebted to "Q." for the following statement of the objections:—

"I think myself that it is a mistake to give much weight to this letter—perhaps a mistake to introduce it at all, since if introduced it will, of course, carry weight. And this for three or four reasons:—

"1. That it is difficult to reconcile the letter itself (with its strong tone of disapprobation) with the general 'atmosphere' ofLeaves of Grass, the tenor of which is to leave everything open and free.

"2. That the letter is in hopeless conflict with the 'Calamus' section of poems. For, whatever moral lines Whitman may have drawn at the time of writing these poems, it seems to me quite incredible that the possibility of certain inferences, morbid or other, was undreamed of.

"3. That the letter was written only a few months before his last illness and death, and is the only expression of the kind that he appears to have given utterance to.

"4. That Symonds's letter, to which this was a reply, is not forth coming; and we consequently do not know what rash expressions it may have contained—leading Whitman (with his extreme caution) to hedge his name from possible use to justify dubious practices."

I may add that I endeavored to obtain Symonds's letter, but he was unable to produce it, nor has any copy of it been found among his papers.

It should be said that Whitman's attitude toward Symonds was marked by high regard and admiration. "A wonderful man is Addington Symonds," he remarked shortly before his own death; "some ways the most indicative and penetrating and significant man of our time. Symonds is a curious fellow; I love him dearly. He is of college breed and education, horribly literary and suspicious, and enjoys things. A great fellow for delving into persons and into the concrete, and even into the physiological and the gastric, and wonderfully cute." But on this occasion he delved in vain.

The foregoing remarks (substantially contained in the previous editions of this book) were based mainly on the information received from J. A. Symonds's side. But of more recent years interesting light has been thrown on this remarkable letter from Walt Whitman's side. The Boswellian patience, enthusiasm, and skill which Horace Traubel has brought to his full and elaborate work, now in course of publication,With Walt Whitman in Camden, clearly reveal, in the course of various conversations, Whitman's attitude to Symonds's question and the state of mind which led up to this letter.

Whitman talked to Traubel much about Symonds from the twenty-seventh of April, 1888 (very soon after the date when Traubel's work begins), onward. Symonds had written to him repeatedly, it seems, concerning the "passional relations of men with men," as Whitman expressed it. "He is always driving at me about that: is that what Calamus means?—because of me or in spite of me, is that what it means? I have said no, but no does not satisfy him. [There is, however, no record from Symonds's side of any letter by Whitman to Symonds in this sense up to this date.] But read this letter—read the whole of it: it is very shrewd, very cute, in deadliest earnest: it drives me hard, almost compels me—it is urgent, persistent: he sort of stands in the road and says 'I won't move till you answer my question.' You see, this is an old letter—sixteen years old—and he is still asking the question: he refers to it in one of his latest notes. He is surely a wonderful man—a rare, cleaned-up man—a white-souled, heroic character.... You will be writing something about Calamus some day," said W. [to Traubel], "and this letter, and what I say, may help to clear your ideas. Calamus needs clear ideas; it may be easily, innocently distorted from its natural, its motive, body of doctrine."

The letter, dated Feb. 7, 1872, of some length, is then reproduced. It tells how muchLeaves of Grass, and especially the Calamus section, had helped the writer. "What the love of man for man has been in the past," Symonds wrote, "I think I know. What it is here now, I know also—alas! What you say it can and should be I dimly discern in your Poems. But this hardly satisfies me—so desirous am I of learning what you teach. Some day, perhaps,—in some form, I know not what, but in your own chosen form,—you will tell me more about the Love of Friends. Till then I wait."

"Said W: 'Well, what do you think of that? Do you think that could be answered?' 'I don't see why you call that letter driving you hard. It's quiet enough—it only asks questions, and asks the questions mildly enough,' 'I suppose you are right—"drive" is not exactly the word: yet you know how I hate to be catechised. Symonds isright, no doubt, to ask the questions: I am just as much right if I do not answer them: just as much right if I do answer them. I often say to myself about Calamus—perhaps it means more or less than what I thought myself—means different: perhaps I don't know what it all means—perhaps never did know. My first instinct about all that Symonds writes is violently reactionary—is strong and brutal for no, no, no. Then the thought intervenes that I maybe do not know all my own meanings: I say to myself: "You, too, go away, come back, study your own book—as alien or stranger, study your own book, see what it amounts to." Some time or other I will have to write to him definitely about Calamus—give him my word for it what I meant or mean it to mean.'"

Again, a month later (May 24, 1888), Whitman speaks to Traubel of a "beautiful letter" from Symonds. "You will see that he harps on the Calamus poems again. I don't see why it should, but his recurrence to that subject irritates me a little. I suppose you might say—why don't you shut him up by answering him? There is no logical answer to that I suppose: but I may ask in my turn: 'What right has he to ask questions anyway?'" W. laughed a bit. "Anyway the question comes back to me almost every time he writes. He is courteous enough about it—that is the reason I do not resent him. I suppose the whole thing will end in an answer some day."

The letter follows. The chief point in it is that the writer hopes he has not been importunate in the question he had asked about Calamus three years before.

"I [Traubel] said to W.: 'That's a humble letter enough: I don't see anything in that to get excited about. He doesn't ask you to answer the old question. In fact he rather apologizes for having asked it.' W. fired up 'Who is excited? As to that question, he does ask it again and again: asks it, asks it, asks it.' I laughed at his vehemence. 'Well, suppose he does? It does not harm. Besides, you've got nothing to hide. I think your silence might lead him to suppose there was a nigger in your wood pile.' 'Oh, nonsense! But for thirty years my enemies and friends have been asking me questions about theLeaves: I'm tired of not answering questions.' It was very funny to see his face when he gave a humorous twist to the fling in his last phrase. Then he relaxed and added: 'Anyway I love Symonds. Who could fail to love a man who could write such a letter? I suppose he will yet have to be answered, damn 'im!'"

It is clear that these conversations considerably diminish the force of the declaration in Whitman's letter. We see that the letter which, on the face of it, might have represented theswift and indignant reaction of a man who, suddenly faced by the possibility that his work may be interpreted in a perverse sense, emphatically repudiates that interpretation, was really nothing of the kind. Symonds for at least eighteen years had been gently, considerately, even humbly, yet persistently, asking the same perfectly legitimate question. If the answer was really an emphatic no, it would more naturally have been made in 1872 than 1890. Moreover, in the face of this ever-recurring question, Whitman constantly speaks to his friends of his great affection for Symonds and his admiration for his intellectual cuteness, feelings that would both be singularly out of place if applied to a man who was all the time suggesting the possibility that his writings contained inferences that were "terrible," "morbid," and "damnable." Evidently, during all those years, Whitman could not decide what to reply. On the one hand he was moved by his horror of being questioned, by his caution, by his natural aversion to express approval of anything that could be called unnatural or abnormal. On the other hand, he was moved by the desire to let his work speak for itself, by his declared determination to leave everything open, and possibly by a more or less conscious sympathy with the inferences presented to him. It was not until the last years of his life, when his sexual life belonged to the past, when weakness was gaining on him, when he wished to put aside every drain on his energies, that—being constitutionally incapable of a balanced scientific statement—he chose the simplest and easiest solution of the difficulty.[99]

Concerning another great modern writer—Paul Verlaine, the first of modern French poets—it seems possible to speak with less hesitation. A man who possessed in fullest measure the irresponsible impressionability of genius, Verlaine—as his work shows and as he himself admitted—all his life oscillated between normal and homosexual love, at one period attracted to women, at another to men. He was without doubt, it seems to me, bisexual. An early connection with another young poet, Arthur Rimbaud, terminated in a violent quarrel with his friend, and led to Verlaine's imprisonment at Mons. In after-years he gave expression to the exalted passion of this relationship—mon grand péché radieux—inLæti et Errabundi, published in the volume entitledParallèlement; and in later poems he has told of less passionate and less sensual relationships which yet were more than friendship, for instance, in the poem, "Mon ami, ma plus belle amitié, ma Meilleure" inBonheur.[100]

In this brief glance at some of the ethnographical, historical, religious, and literary aspects of homosexual passion there is one other phenomenon which may be mentioned. This is the alleged fact that, while the phenomena exist to some extent everywhere,we seem to find a special proclivity to homosexuality (whether or not involving a greater frequency of congenital inversion is not usually clear) among certain races and in certain regions.[101]In Europe this would be best illustrated by the case of southern Italy, which in this respect is held to be distinct from northern Italy, although Italians generally are franker than men of northern race in admitting their sexual practices.[102]How far the supposed greater homosexuality of southern Italy may be due to Greek influence and Greek blood it is not very easy to say.

It must be remembered that, in dealing with a northern country like England, homosexual phenomena do not present themselves in the same way as they do in southern Italy today, or in ancient Greece. In Greece the homosexual impulse was recognized and idealized; a man could be an open homosexual lover, and yet, like Epaminondas, be a great and honored citizen of his country. There was no reason whatever why a man, who in mental and physical constitution was perfectly normal, should not adopt a custom that was regarded as respectable, and sometimes as even specially honorable. But it is quite otherwisetoday in a country like England or the United States.[103]In these countries all our traditions and all our moral ideals, as well as the law, are energetically opposed to every manifestation of homosexual passion. It requires a very strong impetus to go against this compact social force which, on every side, constrains the individual into the paths of heterosexual love. That impetus, in a well-bred individual who leads the normal life of his fellow-men and who feels the ordinary degree of respect for the social feeling surrounding him, can only be supplied by a fundamental—usually, it is probable, inborn—perversion of the sexual instinct, rendering the individual organically abnormal. It is with this fundamental abnormality, usually called sexual inversion, that we shall here be concerned. There is no evidence to show that homosexuality in Greece was a congenital perversion, although it appears that Cœlius Aurelianus affirms that in the opinion of Parmenides it was hereditary. Aristotle also, in his fragment on physical love, though treating the whole matter with indulgence, seems to have distinguished abnormal congenital homosexuality from acquired homosexual vice. Doubtless in a certain proportion of cases the impulse was organic, and it may well be that there was an organic and racial predisposition to homosexuality among the Greeks, or, at all events, the Dorians. But the state of social feeling, however it originated, induced a large proportion of the ordinary population to adopt homosexuality as a fashion, or, it may be said, the environment was peculiarly favorable to the development of latent homosexual tendencies. So that any given number of homosexual persons among the Greeks would have presented a far smaller proportion of constitutionally abnormal individuals than a like number in England. In a similar manner—though I do not regard the analogy as complete—infanticide or the exposition of children was practised in some of the early Greek States by parents who were completely healthy and normal; in England a marriedwoman who destroys her child is in nearly every case demonstrably diseased or abnormal. For this reason I am unable to see that homosexuality in ancient Greece—while of great interest as a social and psychological problem—throws light on sexual inversion as we know it in England or the United States.

Concerning the wide prevalence of sexual inversion and of homosexual phenomena generally, there can be no manner of doubt. This question has been most fully investigated in Germany. In Berlin, Moll states that he has himself seen between 600 and 700 homosexual persons and heard of some 250 to 350 others. Hirschfeld states that he has known over 10,000 homosexual persons.

There are, I am informed, several large cafés in Berlin which are almost exclusively patronized by inverts who come here to flirt and make acquaintances; as these cafés are frequented by male street prostitutes (Pupenjunge) the invert risks being blackmailed or robbed if he goes home or to a hotel with a café acquaintance. There are also a considerable number of homosexualKneipen, small and unpretentious bar-rooms, which are really male brothels, the inmates being sexually normal working men and boys, out of employment or in quest of a few marks as pocket money; these places are regarded by inverts as very safe, as the proprietors insist on good order and allow no extortion, while the police, though of course aware of their existence, never interfere. Homosexual cafés for women are also found in Berlin.

There is some reason for believing that homosexuality is especially prominent in Germany and among Germans. I have elsewhere referred to the highly emotional and sentimental traits which have frequently marked German friendships. Germany is the only country in which there is a definite and well-supported movement for the defense and social rehabilitation of inverts. The study of sexual inversion began in Germany, and the scientific and literary publications dealing with homosexuality issued from the German press probably surpass in quantity and importance those issued from all other countries put together. Thehomosexual tendencies of Germans outside Germany have been noted in various countries. Among my English cases I have found that a strain of German blood occurs much more frequently than we are entitled to expect; Parisian prostitutes are said to be aware of the homosexual tastes of Germans; it is significant that (as a German invert familiar with Turkey informed Näcke), at Constantinople, the procurers, who naturally supply girls as well as youths, regard Germans and Austrians as more tending to homosexuality than the foreigners from any other land. Germans usually deny, however, that there is any special German proclivity to inversion, and it would not appear that such statistics as are available (though all such statistics cannot be regarded as more than approximations) show any pronounced predominance of inversion among Germans. It is to Hirschfeld that we owe the chief attempt to gain some notion of the percentage of homosexual persons among the general population.[104]It may be said to vary in different regions and more especially in different occupations, from 1 to 10 per cent. But the average when the individuals belonging to a large number of groups are combined is generally found to be rather over 2 per cent. So that there are about a million and a half inverted persons in Germany.[105]This would be a minimum which can scarcely fail to be below the actual proportion, as no one can be certain that he is acquainted with the real proclivities of all the persons comprising a larger group of acquaintances.[106]It is not found in the estimates which have reached Hirschfeld that the French groups show a smaller proportion of homosexual persons than the German groups, and a Japanese group comes out nearto the general average for the whole. Various authorities, especially Germans, believe that homosexuality is just as common in France as in Germany.[107]Saint-Paul ("Dr. Laupts"), on the other hand, is unable to accept this view. As an army surgeon who has long served in Africa he can (as also Rebierre in hisJoyeux et demifous) bear witness to the frequency of homosexuality among the African battalions of the French army, especially in the cavalry, less so in the infantry; in the French army generally he finds it rare, as also in the general population.[108]Näcke is also inclined to believe that homosexuality is rarer in Celtic lands, and in the Latin countries generally, than in Teutonic and Slavonic lands, and believes that it may be a question of race.[109]The question is still undecided. It is possible that the undoubted fact that homosexuality is less conspicuous in France and the other Latin countries than in Teutonic lands, may be due not to the occurrence of a smaller proportion of congenital inverts in the former lands, but mainly to general difference in temperament and in the social reaction.[110]The French idealize and emphasize the place of women to a much greater degree than the Germans, while at the same time inverts in France have much less occasion than in Germany to proclaim their legal grievances. Apart from such considerations as these it seems very doubtful whether inborn inversion is in any considerable degree rarer in France than in Germany.

As to the frequency of homosexuality in England[111]and theUnited States there is much evidence. In England its manifestations are well marked for those whose eyes have once been opened. The manifestations are of the same character as those in Germany, modified by social and national differences, and especially by the greater reserve, Puritanism, and prudery of England.[112]In the United States these same influences exert a still greater effect in restraining the outward manifestations of homosexuality. Hirschfeld, though so acute and experienced in the investigation of homosexuality, states that when visiting Philadelphia and Boston he could scarcely detect any evidence of homosexuality, though he was afterward assured by those acquainted with local conditions that its extension in both cities is "colossal." There have been numerous criminal cases and scandals in the United States in which homosexuality has come to the surface, and the very frequently occurring cases of transvestism or cross-dressing in the States seem to be in a large proportion associated with homosexuality.

In the opinion of some, English homosexuality has become much more conspicuous during recent years, and this is sometimes attributed to the Oscar Wilde case. No doubt, the celebrity of Oscar Wilde and the universal publicity given to the facts of the case by the newspapers may have brought conviction of their perversion to many inverts who were before only vaguely conscious of their abnormality, and, paradoxical though it may seem, have imparted greater courage to others; but it can scarcely have sufficed to increase the number of inverts. Rather, one may say, the development of urban life renders easier the exhibition and satisfaction of this as of all other forms of perversion. Regarding the proportion of inverts among the general population, it is very difficult to speak positively. The invert himself is a misleading guide because he has formed round himself a special coterie of homosexual persons, and, moreover, he is sometimes apt to overestimate the number of inverts through the misinterpretationof small indications that are not always conclusive. The estimate of the ordinary normal person, feeling the ordinary disgust toward abnormal phenomena, is also misleading, because his homosexual acquaintances are careful not to inform him concerning their proclivities. A writer who has studied the phenomena of homosexuality is apt to be misguided in the same way as the invert himself, and to overestimate the prevalence of the perversion. Striving to put aside this source of fallacy, and only considering those individuals with whom I have been brought in contact by the ordinary circumstances of life, and with whose modes of feeling I am acquainted, I am still led to the conclusion that the proportion is considerable. Among the professional and most cultured element of the middle class in England, there must be a distinct percentage of inverts which may sometimes be as much as 5 per cent., though such estimates must always be hazardous. Among women of the same class the percentage seems to be at least double, though here the phenomena are less definite and deep-seated. This seems to be a moderate estimate for this class, which includes, however, it must be remembered, a considerable proportion of individuals who are somewhat abnormal in other respects. As we descend the scale the phenomena are doubtless less common, though when we reach the working class we come to that comparative indifference to which allusion has already been made. Taken altogether we may probably conclude that the proportion of inverts is the same as in other related and neighboring lands, that is to say, slightly over 2 per cent. That would give the homosexual population of Great Britain as somewhere about a million.

[1]Taking all its formsen bloc, as they are known to the police, homosexuality is seen to possess formidable proportions. Thus in France, from official papers which passed through M. Carlier's bureau during ten years (1860-70), he compiled a list of 6342 pederasts who came within the cognizance of the police; 2049 Parisians, 3709 provincials, and 584 foreigners. Of these, 3432, or more than the half, could not be convicted of illegal acts.

[2]The chief general collection of data (not here drawn upon) concerning homosexuality among animals is by the zoölogist Prof. Karsch, "Päderastie und Tribadie bei den Tieren,"Jahrbuch für sexuelle Zwischenstufen, vol. ii. Brehm'sTierlebenalso contains many examples. See also a short chapter (ch. xxix) in Hirschfeld'sHomosexualität.

[3]H. Sainte-Claire Deville, "De l'Internat et son influence sur l'education de la jeunesse," a paper read to the Académie des Sciences Morales et Politiques, July 27, 1871, and quoted by Chevalier,L'Inversion Sexuelle, pp. 204-5.

[4]M. Bombarda,Comptes rendus Congrès Internationale de l'Anthropologie Criminelle, Amsterdam, p. 212.

[5]Lacassagne, "De la Criminalité chez les Animaux,"Revue Scientifique, 1882.

[6]Steinach, "Utersuchungen zu vergleichende Physiologie,"Archiv für die Gesammte Physiologie, Bd. lvi, 1894, p. 320.

[7]Féré,Comptes-rendus Société de Biologie, July 30, 1898. We may perhaps connect this with an observation of E. Selous (Zoölogist, May and Sept., 1901) on a bird, the Great Crested Grebe; after pairing, the male would crouch to the female, who played his part to him; the same thing is found among pigeons. Selous suggests that this is a relic of primitive hermaphroditism. But it may be remembered that in the male generally sexual intercourse tends to be more exhausting than in the female; this fact would favor a reversion of their respective parts.

[8]E. Selous, "Sexual Selection in Birds,"Zoölogist, Feb., 1907, p. 65;ib., May, p. 169. Sexual aberrations generally are not uncommon among birds; see,e.g., A. Heim, "Sexuelle Verirrungen bei Vögeln in den Tropen,"Sexual-Probleme, April, 1913.

[9]See Moll,Untersuchungen über die Libido Sexualis, 1898, Bd. i, pp. 369, 374-5. For a summary of facts concerning homosexuality in animals see F. Karsch, "Päderastie und Tribadie bei den Tieren auf Grund der Literatur,"Jahrbuch für sexuelle Zwischenstufen, Bd. ii, 1899, pp. 126-154

[10]Muccioli, "Degenerazione e Criminalità nei Colombi,"Archivio di Psichiatria, 1893, p. 40.

[11]L'Intermédiare des Biologistes, November 20, 1897.

[12]R. I. Pocock,Field, 25 Oct., 1913.

[13]R. S. Rutherford, "Crowing Hens,"Poultry, January 26, 1896.

[14]This has now been very thoroughly done by Prof. F. Karsch-Haack in a large book,Das Gleichgeschlechtliche Leben der Naturvölker, 1911. An earlier and shorter study by the same author was published in theJahrbuch für sexuelle Zwischenstufen, Bd. iii, 1901.

[15]See a brief and rather inconclusive treatment of the question by Bruns Meissner, "Assyriologische Studien," iv,Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatischen Gesellschaft, 1907.

[16]Monatshefte für praktische Dermatologie, Bd. xxix, 1899, p. 409.

[17]Hirschfeld,Die Homosexualität, p. 739.

[18]Beardmore also notes that sodomy is "regularly indulged in" in New Guinea on this account. (Journal of the Anthropological Institute, May, 1890, p. 464.)

[19]I have been told by medical men in India that it is specially common among the Sikhs, the finest soldier-race in India.

[20]Foley,Bulletin Société d'Anthropologie de Paris, October 9, 1879.

[21]See,e.g., O. Kiefer, "Plato's Stellung zu Homosexualität,"Jahrbuch für sexuelle Zwischenstufen, vol. vii.

[22]Bethe,op. cit., p. 440. In old Japan (before the revolution of 1868) also, however, according to F. S. Krauss (Das Geschlechtsleben der Japaner, ch. xiii, 1911), the homosexual relations between knights and their pages resembled those of ancient Greece.

[23]Archiv für Kriminal-Anthropologie, 1906, p. 106.

[24]Zeitschrift für Sexualwissenschaft, 1914, Heft 2, p. 73.

[25]Among the Sarts of Turkestan a class of well-trained and educated homosexual prostitutes, resembling those found in China and many regions of northern Asia, bearing also the same name ofbatsha, are said to be especially common because fostered by the scarcity of women through polygamy and by the women's ignorance and coarseness. The institution of thebatshais supposed to have come to Turkestan from Persia. (Herman, "Die Päderastie bei den Sarten,"Sexual-Probleme, June, 1911.) This would seem to suggest that Persia may have been a general center of diffusions of this kind of refined homosexuality in northern Asia.

[26]Morache, art. "Chine,"Dictionnaire Encyclopédique des Sciences Médicales; Matignon, "La Péderastie en Chine,"Archives d'Anthropologie Criminelle, Jan., 1899; Von der Choven, summarized inArchives de Neurologie, March, 1907; Scié-Ton-Fa, "L'Homosexualité en Chine,"Revue de l'Hypnotisme, April, 1909.

[27]Moeurs des Peuples de l'Inde, 1825, vol. i, part ii, ch. xii. In Lahore and Lucknow, as quoted by Burton, Daville describes "men dressed as women, with flowing locks under crowns of flowers, imitating the feminine walk and gestures, voice and fashion of speech, ogling their admirer with all the coquetry of bayaderes."

[28]Voyages and Travels, 1814, part ii, p. 47.

[29]A. Lisiansky,Voyage, etc., London, 1814, p. 1899.

[30]Ethnographische Skizzen, 1855, p. 121.

[31]C. F. P. von Martius,Zur Ethnographie Amerika's, Leipzig, 1867, Bd. i, p. 74. In Ancient Mexico Bernal Diaz wrote:Erant quasi omnes sodomia commaculati, et adolescentes multi, muliebriter vestiti, ibant publice, cibum quarentes ab isto diabolico et abominabili labore.

[32]Hammond,Sexual Impotence, pp. 163-174.

[33]New York Medical Journal, Dec. 7, 1889.

[34]J. Turnbull, "A Voyage Round the World in the Year 1800," etc., 1813, p. 382.

[35]Annales d'Hygiène et de Médecine Coloniale, 1899, p. 494.

[36]Oskar Baumann, "Conträre Sexual-Erscheinungen bei die Neger-Bevölkerung Zanzibars,"Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, 1899, Heft 6, p. 668.

[37]Rev. J. H. Weeks,Journal Anthropological Institute, 1909, p. 449. I am informed by a medical correspondent in the United States that inversion is extremely prevalent among American negroes. "I have good reason to believe," he writes, "that it is far more prevalent among them than among the white people of any nation. If inversion is to be regarded as a penalty of 'civilization' this is remarkable. Perhaps, however, the Negro,relatively to his capacity, is more highly civilized than we are; at any rate his civilization has been thrust upon him, and not acquired through the long throes of evolution. Colored inverts desire white men as a rule, but are not averse to men of their own race. I believe that 10 per cent, of Negroes in the United States are sexually inverted."

[38]Among the Papuans of German New Guinea, where the women have great power, marriage is late, and the young men are compelled to live separated from the women in communal houses. Here, says Moskowski (Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, 1911, Heft 2, p. 339), homosexual orgies are openly carried on.

[39]C. G. Seligmann, "Sexual Inversion Among Primitive Races,"Alienist and Neurologist, Jan., 1902. In a tale of the Western Solomon Islands, reported by J. C. Wheeler (Anthropophyteia, vol. ix, p. 376) we find a story of a man who would be a woman, and married another man and did woman's work.

[40]Hardman, "Habits and Customs of Natives of Kimberley, Western Australia,"Proceedings Royal Irish Academy, 3d series, vol. i, 1889, p. 73.

[41]Klaatsch, "Some Notes on Scientific Travel Amongst the Black Populations of Tropic Australia," Adelaide meeting ofAustralian Association for the Advancement of Science, January, 1907, p. 5.

[42]In further illustration of this I have been told that among the common people there is often no feeling against connection with a womanper anum.

[43]Chevalier (L'Inversion Sexuelle, pp. 85-106) brings forward a considerable amount of evidence regarding homosexuality at Rome under the emperors. See also Moll,Konträre Sexualempfindung, 1899, pp. 56-66, and Hirschfeld,Homosexualität, 1913, pp. 789-806. On the literary side, Petronius best reveals the homosexual aspect of Roman life about the time of Tiberius.

[44]J. A. Symonds wrote an interesting essay on this subject; see also Kiefer,Jahrbuch f. sex. Zwischenstufen, vol. viii, 1906.

[45]See L. von Scheffler, "Elagabal,"Jahrbuch f. sex. Zwischenstufen, vol. iii, 1901; also Duviquet,Héliogabale (Mercure de France).

[46]The following note has been furnished to me: "Balzac, inUne Dernière Incarnation de Vautrin, describes the morals of the Frenchbagnes. Dostoieffsky, inPrison-Life in Siberia, touches on the same subject. See his portrait of Sirotkin, p. 52et seq., p. 120 (edition J. and R. Maxwell, London). We may compare Carlier,Les Deux Prostitutions, pp. 300-1, for an account of the violence of homosexual passions in French prisons. The initiated are familiar with the fact in English prisons. Bouchard, in hisConfessions, Paris, Liseux, 1881, describes the convict station at Marseilles in 1630." Homosexuality among French recidivists at Saint-Jean-du-Maroni in French Guiana has been described by Dr. Cazanova,Arch. d'Anth. Crim., January, 1906, p. 44. See also Davitt'sLeaves from a Prison Diary, and Berkman'sPrison Memoirs of an Anarchist; also Rebierre,Joyeux et Demifous, 1909.

[47]D. McMurtrie,Chicago Medical Recorder, January, 1914.

[48]See Appendix A: "Homosexuality among Tramps," by "Josiah Flynt."

[49]Inferno, xv. The place of homosexuality in theDivine Comedyitself has been briefly studied by Undine Freün von Verschuer,Jahrbuch für sexuelle Zwischenstufen, Bd. viii, 1906.

[50]Hirschfeld and others have pointed out, very truly, that inverts are less prone than normal persons to regard caste and social position. This innately democratic attitude renders it easier for them than for ordinary people to rise to what Cyples has called the "ecstasy of humanity," the emotional attitude, that is to say, of those rare souls of whom it may be said, in the same writer's words, that "beggars' rags to their unhesitating lips grew fit for kissing because humanity had touched the garb." Edward Carpenter (Intermediate Types among Primitive Folk, p. 83) remarks that great ethical leaders have often exhibited feminine traits, and adds: "It becomes easy to suppose of those early figures—who once probably were men—those Apollos, Buddhas, Dionysus, Osiris, and so forth—to suppose that they too were somewhat bisexual in temperament, and that it was really largely owing to that fact that they were endowed with far-reaching powers and became leaders of mankind."

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