“Even though I should have reason to be satisfied with my fate, in that I have an assured position in a technical employment in a large city of Germany, still I take no pleasure in my calling. I should be best suited if, independent and free, I could travel about with a handsome lover, and live for music and literature, particularly for the theatre, which seems to me to be one of the greatest pleasures. A connection with a court theatre I think of as being very acceptable.
“The only position or calling that seems really desirable to me is that of a great artist,—singer, actor, painter, or sculptor; and it seems to me that it would be even finer to be born to the throne of a king,—a wish that is in harmony with my pronounced desire for power. (If there is really such a thing as transmigration of souls, a subject I have studied much, and which seems to me to clear up much, I must have lived at one time as an emperor, or ruler of some kind.) But a man must be born to all this; and since I am not, I am without ambition for so-called social honors and distinctions.
“As to my tastes, I must mention a painful dissension there is in them. Handsome, intellectual young men of at least twenty years, who must be of my own social station, seem to me to be suited rather for platonic love; but with them I satisfy myself completely with a straightforward, though ideal, friendship, which seldom goes beyond a few kisses. But I can be excited sensually only by coarse, powerful men that are at least of my own age, and mentally and socially beneath me. The reason for this strange phenomenon may be that my pronounced feeling of shame and my innate apprehensiveness, with my cautious disposition, have the effect of an inhibitory idea with men of my own social position; so that with them it is with difficulty and seldom that I can induce sexual excitement in myself. That this diversity is painful to me is owing to the fact that I am always afraid to discover myself to these simple men, below me in station, who may often be bought with money. But I cannot imagine anything worse than a scandal, which would at once drive me to suicide. For I can think of nothing more terrible than, through some slight act of carelessness or the enmity of any man, suddenly to be branded before the world, and to be powerless to avert it. But what is it that we do that is so different from what normally constituted men can do, at least, quite as frequently without embarrassment, and without shame? That we do not feel as the crowd feels is not our fault, but a cruel trick of Nature.
“Innumerable times I have puzzled my brain to know whether science, or any of her free and unprejudiced devotees, could think of any way in which to give us step-children of Nature a more endurable position before the law and mankind. But I have always reached the same sad conclusion, that when one enters the lists in behalf of anything, he must first know thoroughly, and be able to explain, that for which he contends. And who is to-day able to perfectly explain and define con-
