Nordau feels that his scientific reasoning about music will affect no one who has heard the music of Wagner, and that those who admire it will be slow to believe that an unsound mind could have accomplished such complicated, intricate, and complete work. To prepare his reader’s mind for his rash conclusion, he once more goes to the lunatic asylum for his arguments, in order to show that a man may be a lunatic and yet be a good musician. But here again he is strangely blind to the fact that such arguments tell directly against his theory. He cites cases of lunatics who “improvised on the piano,” who “sang very beautiful airs and at the same time improvised two different themes on the piano... who composed very beautiful, new, and melodious tunes.” The remarkable thing about the music of his maniacs is that it is tuny and melodious, and consequently the only rational music, according to Nordau, while Wagner’s music is condemned by him, and Wagner himself is held up as a lunatic because his music is not like that of acknowledged lunatics! It stands to reason that a weak mind could follow and repeat a style of music which it has heard for years, but that it requires a strong and sound mind to break a new road in the domain of music with the full approval of millions of musical people. Nordau also feels the necessity of backing up his opinion by authorities. He sees a conclusive proof of Wagner’s inferiority in the criticism of professional musicians and composers. He might as well form his opinion of an actress on the criticism of her by her most dangerous rival. It seems that Hiller and Schumann would not acknowledge Wagner’s musical endowment, but attributed his success to the _libretti_ written by himself. Regarding this Nordau exclaims: “The same old story: musicians regard him as a poet, and poets as a musician.” This means that our alienist is, or pretends to be, so utterly innocent of humour and satire as to accept this very common way of minimizing the talent of a rival as a trustworthy judgment. It is the commonest thing in the world for a man to deny his rival’s talent in his own specialty, and then, in order to strengthen the effect of his opinion and to give it the colour of impartiality, to acknowledge in him talents outside that specialty. Practical men, when they hear one musician run down another musician, generally conclude that the latter has a dangerous talent. Voltaire, in speaking of a writer none of whose works were in existence, said that he must have been a man of genius judging from the savage attacks made upon him by another writer.