NEVER-TOLD TALES BY WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. President American Society of Medical Sociology, President Northern Medical Society of the City of New York, Chief of the Department of Genito- Urinary Diseases and Dermatology, Bronx Hospital and Dispensary, Editor of The American Journal of Urology and The Critic and Guide, Ex- President Berlin Anglo-American Medical Society, Member American Medical Editors' Association, American Medical Association, New York State Medical Society, Medical Society of the County of New York, Harlem Medical Association, Society Moral and Sanitary Prophylaxis, Internationale Gesettschaft /fir Sexualforschung, etc., etc. No book has a right to exist that has not for its purpose the betterment of mankind, by affording either use- ful instruction or healthful recreation. THIRTEENTH EDITION 1917 THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 63 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK BY THE SAME AUTHOR A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON THE CAUSES, SYMPTOMS AND TREATMENT OF SEXUAL IMPOTENCE AND OTHER SEXUAL DIS- ORDERS IN MEN AND WOMEN $3.00 TREATMENT OF GONORRHEA AND ITS COMPLICATIONS IN MEN AND WOMEN . 3.00 SEXUAL PROBLEMS OF TO-DAY 2.00 SEX KNOWLEDGE FOB MEN 2.00 SEX KNOWLEDGE FOE WOMEN 1.00 WOMAN: HER SEX AND LOVE LIFE 3.00 NEVER TOLD TALES 1.00 STORIES OF LOVE AND LIFE 1.00 LIMITATION OP OFFSPRING BY THE PRE- VENTION OF CONCEPTION 1.00 SEX MORALITY PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE 1.00 EUGENICS AND MARRIAGE 1.00 THE'CRITIC AND GUIDE Monthly: 91.00 a year; Single Copies, 20c. THE AMERICAN JOURNAL OF UROLOGY AND SEXOLOGY Monthly: $4.00 a year; Single Copies, 50c. COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY WILLIAM J.jROBINSON. M.D. COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. CONTENTS PAGE FOREWORD .., >, . . 7 THE STORY OP ROSE AND EDWARD ,.. ,., . 11 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON . . . . 21 THE CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST . . 35 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS ..... 45 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB . . . . 57 WHO WOULD BLAME HER WOULD You? . 83 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY 101 THE LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN . . .117 A NEVER TOLD TALES MISUNDERSTANDING . 141 A PAGE FROM THE LIFE OF PROFESSOR BEAU- MONT . . 153 32175 FOREWORD "NEVER-TOLD TALES." I have no doubt that many good souls after reading these humble pages will think: 'Twould have been better, if these tales had still remained untold. Some people are so squeamish that they are shocked by the simplest truths. You cannot argue with a person's sense of propriety. The nudity of the new-born babe has been known to shock deeply the sensibilities of some old maids. With such people I have no quar- rel. All I can say is : honi soit qui mat y pense. Everybody is entitled to his opinions and to his feelings. For my part I will say: It is a pity, a heartbreak- ing pity, that these tales were not told long, long ago. " There is too much misery in this world " is the plaint of Ed- mond About 's poor Auvergnat. And a FOREWORD good part of this misery is due to the pre- vailing sexual ignorance, to the taboo with which all discussion of sexual matters, and of venereal diseases has heen surrounded. Undoubtedly much of the world's misery is unavoidable in our present stage of civ- ilization; but very much of it is prevent- able. All that is necessary is to rend the thick shroud of ignorance that envelops the subjects which are of prime impor- tance to the human race. No one is so familiar with the misery, the tragedies, the barren and wasted lives, the premature graves, the suicides, the neurasthenic sufferings, etc., caused by sexual ignorance, as is the observing and sympathetic physician. Yes, this is a mat- ter which concerns the race most vitally. It is a deeper tragedy than is realized by the mass of mankind. The writer has seen young blooming girls converted into piti- ful barren wrecks within a few months after their marriage; he has seen house- FOREWORD holds made desolate and children orphaned by the mother being carried off to a pre- mature grave ; he has seen young mothers reduced within a few years to a condition of wornout hags, by incessant child-bear- ing; he has seen children born into the world, puny and crippled, blind and nose- less; he has seen many terrible things, which cannot even be mentioned here, all brought about not by the wickedness, but by the ignorance, of the men and women entering the marriage relations; all of which could have been prevented, if the tales I am telling now had been told be- fore! It is time that these tales should no longer remain "Never-Told Tales." It is time that the ignorance which costs so much health, so much happiness, so many lives, should no longer be permitted to hold its blighting sway in our midst ; it is time that life-destroying prudery should give way to vitalizing knowledge; it is FOREWORD time that sanctimonious hyprocrisy should give way to honest common-sense. It is time, in short, that darkness should give way to light and misery to happiness it is time, therefore, that the " Never-Told Tales " should at last be told! The author is convinced that if these tales were put into the hands of every man and woman about to marry, and into the hands of every father and mother who have adolescent children, much misery would be prevented and much good would be accomplished. Hence does he send them forth into the world. . . . W. J. R. 12 MT. MORRIS PARK W. DECEMBER 8, 1908. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION IT is customary for an author to ex- press gratification at the early appearance of a second edition of his book. It is gratifying to the author that a new edi- tion has been called for in less than eight months; it shows that the impermeable veil of Anglo-Saxon prudery which has been preventing the rays of light from illuminating certain sore spots in our so- cial body, which needed treatment, is being gradually torn away, and that the people are willing to learn the truth even if it is occasionally bitter and disagreeable. It is also gratifying to record that the reviews given this modest collection of true tales have been uniformly favorable, some extravagantly so, and the same is to be said of the private opinions, ex- pressed by the medical and lay readers of the book. PREFACE We are sending forth this second edition of Never-Told Tales without the apprehen- sion and doubts which assailed us at times during the preparation of the first edition; and we feel quite certain that a third one will be called for in the very near future. BERLIN, GERMANY, August 26, 1909. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION The second edition of Never-Told Tales was exhausted even more rapidly than the first. It was the author's intention to add another Tale to this collection, but the numerous urgent orders which had to be filled made any delay inadvisable, and the present edition had to be printed without any changes or additions. The author now knows that this humble book is doing- a vast amount of good. W. J. R. July 4, 1910. PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION Go forth, thou little booklet, into the world for the fourth time, and mayst thou accomplish as much good in the future as thou hast in the past. W. J. R. NEW YORK, April 1, 1911. PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION That Never Told Tales is a useful and necessary book, and has accomplished very much good, is a fact of which I am per- fectly certain. Since the publication of Never Told Tales the practice has become quite common for young men, contemplat- ing marriage, to demand an examination, in order to make sure whether or not they are fit for the marriage bed. I know that its homely lessons have prevented much disease and misery. But it seems that good is, if not always or generally, at least frequently, accom- panied by evil. And I know of instances where the perusal of Never Told Tales produced, for a time at least, disastrous results. I do not speak of instances where the reading of the stories drove patients, who never had anything the matter with 7 PREFACE them, to the doctor's office. Here it was only a matter of a little anxiety and a doctor's fee. But I know of instances where the reading of the book by married people caused unjust suspicions, led to es- trangement, temporary separation, and in one case I was told, even to divorce. In more than one case it was the cause of deep melancholy. It is the same old story of the danger of a little knowledge and of laymen jumping at conclusions from in- sufficient premises. But this is a condi- tion that cannot be helped. Every book presenting new lines of thought, advocat- ing a new and higher morality, is apt to be misunderstood by those who are not ripe for it. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and there is one false idea against [which it is particularly necessary to warn the people. This idea, fostered by the quasi-scientific, is to the effect that syph- ilis and gonorrhea are incurable. " Syph- 8 PREFACE ills is never cured." " Once gonorrhea, always gonorrhea." This is false. These diseases are germ diseases, and if treated energetically from the start are as cur- able, and as radically curable, as are other germ diseases. The diseases are bad enough without exaggerations. It is all a matter of early treatment and of proper treatment. If I were not sure that the good done by Never Told Tales is incomparably greater than the harm which it has caused and may continue to cause occasionally, I would myself consign it to the auto- da-fe. But its great value to the rising generations cannot be questioned, and the greater its circulation the better for humanity. This edition contains two new stories: The Life History of an Ideal Man, and A Never Told Tales Misunderstanding. w. J. R. PREFACE TO THE SIXTH EDITION The writing of a preface to a new iedition of Never Told Tales has become an annual function with the author. He naturally feels gratified that the demand for the Tales which he was the first to tell is not diminishing, hut on the contrary is increasing, and he hopes that this edition will be exhausted in as short a time as was the last one, and that it will have proved as much of a factor in opening the people's eyes to evils that threaten the integrity of the race as the previous five editions have. June 1, 1913. PREFACE TO THE EIGHTH EDITION It is five years ago to-day that I wrote the preface to the first edition of these Tales. With practically no advertising except that in THE CRITIC AND GUIDE it has reached the eighth edition (the sev- PREFACE enth edition was printed specially for the Sociological Fund of the Medical Review of Reviews) , and is now considered an in- dispensable factor in the great work of sexual enlightenment, in the great battle against the great venereal plagues. And so, bon voyage! December 8, 1913. PREFACE TO THE NINTH EDITION How different the world looked when, a few months ago, I wrote the preface to the eighth edition. Then calm and peace, and apparently permanent peace; now the world's most awful cataclysm threatening to engulf all Europe. Everything seems so useless. . . . Let us hope that by the time a new edition of this little book becomes necessary, peace will reign again and true democracy will have gained a permanent victory over death-dealing militarism. Let us hope that the tale of this war will be the last told military tale. October 1, 1914. PREFACE TO THE TENTH EDITION Never Told Tales evidently fills a real want, and the demand for it remains unabated. We learn that it has become customary for people to send a copy of the book to their male and female friends who contemplate marriage. Certainly an excellent idea, which if widely fol- lowed, would save the world a great deal of sexual misery. September 1st. 1915. PREFACE TO THE THIRTEENTH EDITION When Never Told Tales appeared in 1908 it was the only book of its kind in any language. It still remains the only one. And that the Tales are not becoming stale is seen from the fact that edition follows edition in rapid succession. The book is evidently answering a real need, filling a genuine want. I cannot help feeling gratified. WILLIAM J. ROBINSON. January 18, 1917, 12 Mt. Morris Park, W.. New York City. THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD 1SS ROSE M- - was a little over twenty-two. She was a bright, cheerful, happy girl, and this was her happiest day. Not only be- cause on that day she was graduated from Barnard with high honors, but Edward dear Ed, whom she had loved and looked up to for so many years had proposed last night, and the passion, romance and aroma of that proposal still lingered with her. And how the plans and hopes and dreams kept chasing each other in her ac- tive, fertile brain. She had decided where they would live, where they would spend their summers, how she would bring up her children, etc., etc. And Ed was a husband to be proud of. Tho but twenty- eight years old he had already achieved is THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD eminence in the legal profession, and his practice was more than he could attend to. And he was one of those rare speci- mens, a truly honest lawyer. Not honest in the legal sense, but honest in the true human sense. And kind-hearted, a gentle- man in the noblest sense of the word and an all-round athlete. A man to pro- tect a woman from every possible care and to make her happy as long as she lived. So thought Rose, and she was right. They were married in October. They expected to stay away three months on their honeymoon, but they returned after about three weeks. Rose was not feeling well, and traveling and staying in hotels didn't agree with her. She looked rather tired and fagged out, but that was nat- ural. It was not natural, however, that after a week's rest she did not show any improvement. On the contrary, she be- gan to look somewhat haggard. She had a little irritation in the genito-urinary 14 THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD tract, increased frequency of micturition, etc., but as this is not unusual in newly married women, it was not considered of sufficient importance to consult a physi- cian. Things continued this way, getting a little better and a little worse, until the beginning of January. On the fifth of January she was taken violently and dan- gerously ill. Severe abdominal pain, very rapid but hard pulse, and threatening col- lapse. The physician who was called in diagnosed the case as ruptured tubal preg- nancy. A consulting surgeon was called in and it was decided that in order to save the patient's life, an immediate operation was necessary. And tho it was mid- night, the patient was quickly removed to 's Private Hospital and oper- ated upon. No signs of extrauterine pregnancy were discovered, but about three and one-half pints of a blood- stained and somewhat purulent serum removed. An examination of this serum 10 THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD demonstrated the presence of millions of gonocoeci. We had to deal here with a case of fulminant gonococcal salpingitis. Both tubes were thickened and inflamed and they were removed. And so was the now useless uterus. The operation was a "success," i. e., the patient recovered. A confidential talk was had with Mr. Edward. He searched his memory for a while yes, some two years ago he had a very mild attack of he did not know whether it was gonorrhea or something due to a " strain." It was very mild, it didn't hother him much, he went to his physician who gave him an injection and he was all right in three or four weeks. He never attached much importance to that attack and it had escaped his memory entirely. An examination of his urine, however, demonstrated the presence of! shreds, and while no gonocoeci could be found in the urine, they were demon- 16 THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWAKP strated in the expressed secretion from the prostate and seminal vesicles. The despair of Mr. Edward at learning that he was the unwitting cause of the tragedy can better be imagined than described. Rose recovered, but you would hardly know her if you saw her. She aged ten years in ten weeks. She is making no plans, she has no hopes, she is dreaming no dreams not for the present at any rate. Never again will she be the happy Rose that she was before she became Mrs. Edward. Never will her home be glad- dened by the noise, romp and laughter of little children. Who is to blame? Nobody. Rose certainly is not, nor is Ed. For he cer- tainly would have had his right hand cut off and his left one too rather than cause the woman whom he loved above all else in the world any pain or suffering. But he " didn't know," and we cannot be 17 THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD blamed for things that we do not know, and that we never were told that we ought to know. Should we blame those who in- sist that all knowledge of sexual matters be kept away from the people? Perhaps, but even they are more to be pitied than blamed. For they are generally sincere in their beliefs and we cannot blame them for their ignorance. No, nobody is to blame, but it is the duty of those who see the light to spread the knowledge of sexual matters and of the dangers of venereal disease before people, so that tragedies like those that have struck down our friends Rose and Edward may become rare or impossible in the future. It would be an excellent plan if every man who indulged in promiscuous rela- tions, no matter how rarely, had himself thoroly examined before marrying. This even if to his knowledge he never had gonorrhea. For there are gonorrheas 18 THE STORY OF ROSE AND EDWARD without any subjective symptoms, gonor- rheas in which the gonococci remain dor- mant, only to awaken into virulent ac- tivity at the first opportunity. And newly married life is such an opportunity. 19 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON IT was a cold, wet, drizzly Septem- ber evening. I had been up the previous night, had worked very hard that day, making about forty calls, and when the carriage at last stopped in front of my house I was almost as glad as my talkative coachman Jim and my mare Mollie. I eagerly opened the door, threw off my things, and entered the cheerful and comfortable dining-room, preparing to pass a peaceful and restful evening. Alas, this as well as several other even- ings were destined to be anything but peaceful. " Miss Swinton was here and wanted to see you very particularly," an- nounced Sally, my housekeeper. " What was it? She didn't want me to call, did she? " " No. She seemed to be very much 23 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTQN worried. She would call again, she said." My feelings of peace and rest were gone in an instant. I knew it must be some- thing serious. And I felt anxious, for I loved Lydia as much as any father could love his own child. And everybody who knew the lithe, laughing* highstrung Lydia loved her. Innocent as a babe, sweet as a rose, happy and free as a bird such was Lydia on the surface. Yet one felt that beneath the serene surface there was an immense amount of reserve force, which could be at instant service when needed. And while smoking my Havana, I gave rein to my memory and let it run riot. And it was just such an evening twenty years ago. I was preparing to retire, when a sudden violent ring of the bell made my hopes go dash-dash. I was taken at breakneck speed to Judge S win- ton's,, It was a hard labor, but in the morning Lydia was brought into the 24 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON world. And how I watched 'her grow. What a beautiful, affectionate child she was. I am fond of all children and they fully reciprocate. Children are much quicker to discern true from sham affec- tion. But there were few children whom I liked quite as much as I did Lydia and I don't think there was anything I would not have done, if it were necessary to Lydia's happiness. How beautiful, how; innocent she looked on her graduation day. . . . There was a sudden ring and in a min- ute Lydia stood before me. I hadn't seen her for over three months and she was greatly changed. Her face was wan, pale, and the features were hard. I pressed her icy hand, she looked at me with nervous, restless eyes and burst out in sobs, which shook her entire supple frame. My heart felt tightly compressed. I knew I was face to face with a genuine tragedy. I knew my favorite was in deadly peril. 25 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON And still I felt that I would be powerless to save her. My suspicions proved correct. Jim Dexter, a conscienceless, polished scoun- drel, a well-known man about town, who professed love for her and was to become her fiance, took advantage of her childish innocence, and I was to relieve her. And if I didn't, she swore, before God, she would take her life. And everybody who knew Lydia, knew that she always meant what she said, and now she meant it in deadly, deathly earnest. And still I could not say: yes. I pleaded with her, saying that at the proper time I would take her to a private home and the child would afterward be taken good care of. She listened as one dazed. She did not argue. She gave me the ultimatum: Either to relieve her or to see her dead. I endeavored to show her that she was asking the impossible, that I could not agree to commit murder. At THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON this she smiled a bitter smile I shall never forget it. She could not see it that way. I still tried to persuade her but suddenly she rose and without saying a word, she opened the door and was gone. The fitful, fearful nightmare that I had that night the terrible struggle, the fear for that beautiful young life, the re- proaches of my conscience may I for- ever after be saved from such a dilemma. I didn't see Lydia for a week. I was too busy with urgent calls to allow myself to call at the Swinton's ; besides I thought that my presence might be painful to Lydia. I hoped tho I dared not believe it that she might have become reconciled to her fate and let events take their course. Alas ! I had come home pretty well exhausted, preparing to take it easy, when Sally rushed in, announcing that the Swinton's servant, Thomas, was here and wanted me to come at once, as Miss Lydia was dying. 27 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON My heart stood still, my blood chilled. The tragedy was approaching, the trag- edy was here ! By a strong effort I pulled myself together, threw all the possible antidotes and a stomach pump into my bag, and was off. I do not remember how I got to the Swintons the first thing I remember, I stood before Lydia, who was flushed scarlet, tossing about all over the bed and in high delirium. It did not take me long to diagnose belladonna poi- soning. The parents, very simple, old- fashioned folks, suspected nothing. They noticed Lydia was feeling badly for sev- eral weeks, the last few days she stayed in her room, and when the maid went in some half hour ago to give Lydia a cup of beef tea, she found her in this condition. I had to do some hard thinking. I gave her a hypodermic of apomorphine I might in my anxiety have given her too much ; she vomited severely and profusely. I applied ice to her head and very soon 28 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON she began to regain consciousness. I wanted to administer some stimulants she closed her jaws tightly and would not take a drop. There began quite a battle. Finally she had to yield she was so weak. She was not too weak, however, to whis- per in my ear : " Doctor, you may save my life now, but I swear that you will not have the chance to save it a second time." And I knew she was as good as her word. How could one permit this highstrung, beautiful girl to go to destruction? " My dear child," I whispered to her, "let me save you now, I will do anything you want me to." She became very meek and al- lowed me to do anything that I considered necessary. In about an hour I thought it safe to leave her. I was putting on my coat, I remember, when a sudden, sharp, half- stifled cry made me turn quickly to Ly- dia. At the end of about fifteen minutes I was no longer in doubt. Lydia was hav- 29 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON ing labor pains. The shock of the poison, the severe vomiting and retching, the gen- eral nervous shock, were having their ef- fect. Lydia also began to suspect what the trouble was and her face became a picture of terror. I had to act quickly. I turned to the parents. "Lydia is dan- gerously ill," I said. " She may die. She has a bad abdominal abscess and must be operated on at once. It would take too long for me to go home and get my in- struments and come back; besides I have not the same f acilites here. And she will have to be watched very carefully for the first few days, which I can do better at my home. I will take her with me." My word was law with the Swintons. They knew that in no hands was Lydia as safe as in mine. In a few minutes, Lydia, securely wrapped, propped up by pillows, was resting in her father's closed carriage; a short, wild ride, and we were home. I did everything that was neces- 30 THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON sary for her safety and she made an un- eventful recovery. She went home, and her parents never suspected anything. She is now a happy wife and a happy mother. What became of Jim Dexter? Lydia gave him an ultimatum. He must leave town forever or she would shoot him. And he knew that Lydia was not to be joked with; and he left town just one week after Lydia left my home. When " The Case of Lydia Swinton " ap- peared in the CRITIC AND GUIDE, I received the following letter from Dr. W. C. Cooper of Cleves, O., editor of the Medical Gleaner: " Dr. Robinson : " Your case of Lydia Swinton recalls a case I had thirty-five years ago. I was practicing at the time in Indianapolis. The young lady in the case was the daughter of a prominent lawyer. She was highly cultured, variously accomplished, and charming in person to the limit of imaginative pos- sibility. Her lover was a banker's son, a hand- Si THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON some fellow and a high-roller. They were entirely devoted to each other, and were engaged to be married in three months. They got too intimate, and she came to me for help. I had been their family physician, and she never suspected that I would hesitate to help her out of her trouble. Of course I refused, and gave her the regulation little preachment which (theoretically) fits such cases. I told her no respectable physician would inter- fere in these cases, and that the thing to do was to let nature take its course, etc. She would die before she would go to a professional abortionist, or to any physician but me. Her pleadings for help were pitiful indeed. Every time she came back (which she did several times), she ended her beseechings with a suicidal vow contingent on my continued refusal. The last time she called she simply said: "Doctor, this is the last appeal for merciful help." I shook my head, tho I could not keep back my tears. I shall never forget that agonized look as she turned and went out. On the next morning the papers contained a sensational account of her death. Her body had been found im the middle of White River, close to the bridge. As her home relations had always been pleasant, and there had been no trouble between her and her THE CASE OF LYDIA SWINTON lover, suicide was excluded from the list of prob- abilities. It was concluded that there had been foul play. A careful investigation developed no trustworthy facts, and the case added itself to the long list of tragic mysteries. I wonder if it is not a greater sin sometimes not to help a girl out of this kind of trouble, than it would be to help her." Proper sexual instructions at the proper time would save thousands of families from heartbreak- ing disgrace and thousands ofi young girls from a suicide's grare. THE CASE OF IRENB LARRABEE WEST THE CASE OF IRENE LARBA- BEE WEST XHAVE been the Larrabees' fam- ily physician for many years. I pulled little Irene thru an attack of diphtheria, scarlet fever and measles. That was before she reached her seventh year. Since then she was never sick. She became veiy robust and loved outdoor sports. She was normal, healthy, not high strung, and looked at life with prosaic eyes. She was a passionate novel reader. At 18 she became engaged to a certain Mr. West, a lawyer from Atlanta, Ga., who attended to her father's affairs in that section of the country and who came on occasional visits to the Larrabees. At 19 she married. We were sorry to lose her, to miss her prosaic, healthy face and cheerful laugh, but she left her paternal 37 CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST home with a light heart. She wanted to be a mother. She loved children. She promised to come home on frequent visits. She didn't. To-day I was called in to see her to see Mrs. Irene West, nee Larrabee. Is it really one and the same person? It is hard to believe. And still it is so. It is nearly five years since I saw her last when she left for her honeymoon and went to live with her husband in Atlanta; and I have but seldom heard of her. Mrs. Larrabee told me that she heard from her daughter but rarely, that she was not feel- ing very well and she was afraid she was not very happy. Mr. West was so nice and kind and gentlemanly and she couldn't account for it. I spent about half an hour with Mrs. West and I could account for everything. When I came in Mr. West called me aside and told me he thought his wife was very sick, and what was worse, he thought she 38 CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST was addicted to morphine. I was shocked and somewhat incredulous. I knew Irene was not one to lightly become addicted to anything. She had never tasted a drop of alcohol, had never been given an opiate, and there must have been some very peculiar reasons to have made her a morphine habitue. I examined her. Her legs and arms w r ere full of needle pricks, the face bore a suffering, humiliated expression. I gave her a thoro gynecologic examination ; then I had a confidential talk with her hus- band, which made the cold sweat come out on him quite profusely, and what he sus- pected, and what several doctors hinted at, became a certainty. Some ten years ago a gonorrheal urethritis. He treated it for a year or more and thought he was radi- cally cured. He remained continent for over a year before getting married the entire time he was engaged to Miss Lar- rabee. 39 CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST About two or three weeks after the .wed- ding she commenced to complain of cer- tain symptoms, which, to me, pointed to an acute gonorrheal infection. A Dr. G., who had been the West family physi- cian for years, and in whom Mr. West's mother had great confidence, was called in. I investigated that doctor and found that he was an illiterate ignoramus. He had never attended any college. He or- dered some strong bichloride of mercury injections. The condition became worse. Soon the pains became very severe, both in the bladder and in the sides. Then Dr. G., at his wits' ends, began to feed Mrs. West on morphine and give her morphine injections. He treated her in this way for a year. Her con- dition gradually became aggravated. Finally it was decided to call in another doctor. She was curetted and curetted again. Her condition gradually became worse. Double salpingitis and oophoritis 40 CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST was diagnosed; the condition became so critical that an operation was decided upon. The seriousness of the operation was fully explained. Then Irene re- belled. She said if she was to undergo a serious operation she wanted to have it done at home and wanted her own doctor to do it. And here she was. Yes, an examination corroborated the absolute necessity of an immediate operation. She had to become asexualized, and her intense maternal instinct was never to become satisfied, her hunger for a child was never to be appeased. She was operated on two days later. " The operation was a success," but the patient hovered between life and death for seven or eight weeks. She is in fair health now, but is constantly brooding and melancholic. Somehow or other the true cause of her condition, which for five years was a secret to her, is a secret no longer. How she found out, nobody can 41 CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST tell. But there is a marked change in her relation to her husband. He feels guilty and downhearted. Her life is ruined for- ever, and the household can never be a happy household. It would be very daring to suggest that fathers should demand certificates of per- fect health from their future sons-in-law, but I hope the time will come when men will make sure that they are sexually healthy and that their future wives run no risk of becoming either infected, or what is almost as bad, sexual neuras- thenics. Irene's parents have still no suspicion of the cause of her deplorable condition, and feel guilty that their daughter should have given poor Mr. West so much trou- ble and caused him so much expense. I was in to-day to see Irene and her mother chid her gently and lovingly for being "such a burden" to Mr. West. "And such a healthy girl as she was ! You re- 42 CASE OF IRENE LARRABEE WEST member, Doctor. From her seventh year to the day of her marriage she had not a day's sickness. Married life agrees with some people, with others it does not." Irene merely smiled. A sad, cheerless smile. With her craving for morphine she struggles valiantly, and I trust that now, when she does not need it to quiet her pain, she will overcome the habit entirely. Doctors should not be too sentimental, but it hurts to see a healthy, cheerful girl converted into a ruin, into an unhappy person, neither man nor woman, thru ignorance. 43 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS facts can be stated briefly. She married at twenty. She was very happy. He was supremely happy. At twenty-one she had a boy, a big bouncing boy. Labor was tedious, extremely difficult, but all ended well. Their life acquired a new interest and they felt happier still. A year later, almost to a day, she had another boy. Two years later another child came this time a girl. They were very glad: they wanted a girl. She didn't get over this confinement as well as she did the first two. She was not ex- actly sick, but she lost some of her spirit and buoyancy. Attending to three chil- dren was not quite so easy as to attend to one. And then the cost of living had in- creased considerably during the four 47 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS years of their married life, while the hus- band's salary had not. They thought that three children would be enough for several years to come. She went to her family physician, who had attended her in her three confine- ments and asked him if he could not give her something she should not get in the " family way " so soon. No, he could not give her anything. He did not believe in going against nature, etc., etc. The truth of the matter is, the good doctor was ignorant, and could not have given the poor woman anything, if he had wanted to. And so in about eighteen months another child came. It must be sadly recorded that there was no joy in either the maternal or the paternal breast, when the new arrival made its appearance. Rather there was sorrow and grief for a month or two. But finally they became reconciled to the situation. "We don't 48 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS want them to come, but when they are here, we must do for them the best we can, and we wouldn't want to lose them for the world." They now began to use preventive measures, a knowledge of which the wife acquired from an obliging friend. The measures were neither quite effective nor quite harmless ; they affected the health of both husband and wife, and finally she was " caught " again. In less than three years after the fourth child, the fifth one came upon the scene. It was a weak, puny child, probably because the mother felt weak and exhausted during almost the entire pregnancy, while her mind was restless and her spirit rebellious. Also for the first time she had a severe post-partum hemorrhage. It was, how- ever, controlled after packing the uterus with iodof orm gauze, under an anesthetic. After a rather prolonged convalescence, Mrs. B. got up and this is what she told her husband: "John, if I have another 49 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS child before the end of ten years, I will kill myself." And she said it as if she meant it. And John thought that she had good reasons not to want any more chil- dren for some time to come. Only twenty- eight years old and five children that is enough. So thought John and he de- termined to keep himself well in hand. Their preventive measures had proven in- effective, and so the only positive remedy was to abstain. And he did. And be- fore a year passed, John's dearly beloved wife was once more pregnant. It was outrageous that it should have happened but it happened. It always happens. The mischief was done. She went to her doctor the same old family physician who had brought all her children and herself into the world. As she was only " a couple of weeks over," she thought he could do something for her, give her a little medicine or do something else. He told her to try a hot foot bath so ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS and with this cold piece of comfort he dis- missed her. She left, sick at heart, but determined. And now every fake and fraud adver- tised in the newspapers, every female reg- ulator, every kind of pennyroyal pill, found its way into the home of Mrs. B. The only result for Mrs. B. was an irri- tated and inflamed stomach, so that she could hardly retain any food at all, and she lost about twenty pounds in weight. John looked on with deep grief; he tried to protest mildly against her using all the poisonous stuff, but his remonstrances only irritated her. As John told me, she did not seem to love him any more ; in fact, his presence seemed to annoy her. Those who know something about sexual psy- chology will have no difficutly in under- standing Mrs. B's feelings. It often hap- pens in such cases that the deepest love is turned into the deepest aversion. It is as a rule only temporary, but it is real while 51 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS it lasts. And the swallowing of pills, cap- sules, oils and tinctures went on. One day she asked John for fifty dol- lars and left the house. She came back towards evening. She said nothing. She suffered badly that night. Next day she began to bleed, and it kept up for two, three days. Then it stopped. Then she got feverish, developed pain in the abdo- men, which became progressively worse. A physcian was called in, and the poor woman was found to suffer from septic peritonitis. The uterus was emptied, a slight improvement set in, but she began to lose ground rapidly, and in ten days Mrs. B. was buried. Who the man or the woman was who performed or rather at- tempted to perform the abortion will never be known, for Mrs. B., when asked by the attending physician to give the name of the guilty bungler, gave him such a look of scorn and contempt, that he did not attempt to question her any further. 52 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS And so the five children were made motherless, to grow up without a mother's love, without a mother's care. And a man is walking about ashy-colored, sunken- eyed, distraught, half-dead. Does he con- sider himself partly or wholly responsible for his beloved wife's death? Who knows? But a happy home has been forever de- stroyed. Destroyed by the ignorance of the family physician, who did not know how or did not care to help the poor wife, destroyed by the ignorance, which makes it a crime to sell or to give away any con- ception preventives, destroyed by the ig- norance and prudery which make the dis- cussion of the regulation of reproduction problem a shocking subject even in med- ical journals. And when you think that this little drama, this heartrending tragedy, has its counterpart in every city in the United States, when you think that almost daily, yes, daily, young mothers are carried to 53 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS untimely graves the death certificate does not always state the true cause of death and children are orphaned and husbands are widowed, and misery is spread broadcast, and all thru ignorance, dark, cruel ignorance, you cannot help feeling impatient and rebellious, and you cannot help feeling that this world was all bungled in the making, and that you could have made a better, a far better and happier world, if you had been the author of the job. Ignorance is the root of all evil. Broadly speaking, all human misery, all human suffering, is due to ignorance. And nobody in particular is to blame. The ignorant ones are not to blame we can only pity them for they either can't help or don't know how to help their ignorance. Often they do not even know that they are ignorant. And even those who make it a point deliberately to keep the people in ignorance, who make it a crime to ac- 54 ONE OF LIFE'S LITTLE DRAMAS quire knowledge on a certain subject, are not always to blame, for very often they are convinced that what they are doing is for the benefit of mankind, that the knowledge they forbid would only prove injurious to the people. And can you blame men who are sincerely convinced that their work no matter how perni- cious from our standpoint is for the benefit of mankind? No We can only educate them. Education is our only weapon. And it is of no use getting impatient. Each one has to do his duty according to his light and things will work out all right in the end. I know that the end sometimes seems far far away in infinity but if you know of any better and quicker way, than educational propaganda, to reach the desired end, I wish you would impart me your knowledge. I should be truly grateful. THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB parents had been next- door neighbors before they were born. They grew up together. In their games and plays, Betty was always the queen, and Bob was the faith- ful, loyal, obedient slave. He looked up to her as to a superior being. He con- sidered her much smarter than himself and she was. They went to school to- gether. Bobby carried Betty's books and lunch basket, and Betty helped Bobby with his lessons. He was especially bad in 'rithmetic, a subject in which Betty was particularly good. Betty was a cute tiny little thing, Bob was enormous ; he looked a giant beside her and it was curious to see the midget explain to the giant prob- lems in mathematics or mooted points in geography. They were graduated from 59 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB public school and entered high-school. The studies were becoming easier for Betty, they were becoming harder for Bob. But Betty's parents were compara- tively poor, Bob's were rich. The law of compensation, if law it may be called, does sometimes hold good, tho not so very often; certainly not so often as Emerson would have us believe. Tho Betty helped Bob all she could, the studies were becom- ing irksome to him and while in his third year he left school. He knew he did not have to study for a living. He entered his father's business, where he showed a good deal of ability and even initiative. The business was growing and he was sent out to San Francisco to open up a branch. He stayed away two years. He became so fascinated with the game of money-making that he suffered no pangs of nostalgia, and to his parents' request to come home for a visit, he replied that he was too busy, that he could not leave the 60 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB responsibilities of the office on the shoul- ders of subordinates. Perhaps it was not purely business that held him a captive in San Francisco. For the first time in his life he began to " live." He began to sow his wild oats. Brought up in a strict puritanical environment, he was shy and retiring, especially in the presence of the gentle sex, and at first he lived an almost secluded life. The attractions of the city of the Golden Gate made no impress on him. The taunts and remarks about his monastic life left him undisturbed. But gradually his business acquaintances and " friends " who were anxious to help him spend his money, prevailed upon him to join the clubs of the jeunesse doree, and before he was fully aware of it he was in the very vortex of San Francisco's gay life. He was a puritan and when a puri- tan plunges into the so-called gay life, there is no stopping him. He goes to the limit and drinks the cup to the dregs. 61 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB While his days were devoted to busi- ness, the nights were spent in revelry with 'Frisco's demi-monde, and the chorus girls found him a good thing. Betty, and Bob's mother would certainly have been slightly astonished had they been able to see in what company their shy, awkward, church-going Bob was spending his even- ings. Luckily neither Betty nor his par- ents had any intimation of Bob's meta- morphosis after sundown. The sleepless nights spent in debauchery began to tell even on Bob's robust frame, when he was suddenly takeft ill; he at first paid no at- tention to it, for he was told laughingly by his friends that the illness was not a serious one ; but it soon became very pain- ful and it necessitated his staying in bed flat on his back for over four weeks. An acute illness or an accident is some- times a great blessing; it proves an im- portant turning point in the lives of some people. I know people who have learned 62 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB to think, thought seriously for the first time, while on their back. Compulsory physical inactivity often acts as a cerebral stimulant. Bob's illness made him disgusted with the life he had been leading and every- thing would have been all right, had not the disease left a legacy, which was des- tined to have an important influence on Bob's future life. Bob's father was getting old, he began to ail, and he wrote to his son that his presence was more important at home, in the main office, than in San Francisco. Bob was glad to return. He had had enough of gay life. He left a competent manager and hied to his paternal roof. Among those who came out to meet him was Betty. He looked at her with delight and amazement. He always had a high admiration for her perhaps also a little fear and now to the feeling of admira- tion was added that of a sincere and pas- 65 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB sionate love. Betty had gotten thru with college, life was smiling to her and she, in the happiness of young healthy woman- hood, jvas smiling on the world. She was still a head shorter than Bob, but intel- lectually and morally she was head and shoulders above him. Bob felt it. He even had a suspicion that he was not quite worthy of her. But where is the man who will relinquish the woman he loves merely because she is purer than he physically, or superior to him mentally and morally? And, besides, Bob had imbibed the gener- ally prevalent notion that money covers up all imperfections. Bob was rich, Betty was poor. If he married her, she would lead a life of comfort and luxury; if he did not, Betty would have to work, to teach high-school or something like that. It did not cost him much endeavor to con- vince himself that in asking Betty to be- come his wife he was doing a charitable, nay, a very noble act. 6* THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB He proposed. Betty expected he would, and she accepted him. Not be- cause the prospect of a care-free, luxuri- ous life lured her. No. Betty was not exactly that kind of a girl. Ideal girls are still met with in real life. They are not numerous, but we can still encounter them, even outside the covers of senti- mental novels. Betty accepted him be- cause she rather liked him. She was used to him. She knew he was a good and kind hearted fellow. And that was the principal thing in a husband. Betty was old fashioned enough to believe, that a kind heart was more important than a brilliant head. And while she knew that Bob would never discover gunpowder, she also knew, or thought she knew, that he was a man to lean on. And every woman, be she ever so intellectual, will readily exchange all her abstract knowl- edge, all her independence, for the se- curity of married life, for a steadfast man 65 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB with whom she can f rolick in fair and sun- shiny days and on whom she can lean with assuredness in dark and stormy weather. And perhaps who knows? she was also unconsciously influenced by Bob's constantly growing fortune. One may not be aware of it, but a life entirely free from material cares does appeal powerfully to one's innermost soul. Eob was accepted and the wedding was cele- brated with great pomp and extrava- gance. The vulgarity of it grated slightly on Betty, but she was not the master of ceremonies. Five years passed. Bob's father, old Mr. Carey, has been dead for over two years and Bob is the sole owner of the tremendous business, which has been growing steadily and has put him in the millionaire class. Are Bob and Betty happy? Apparently. Perhaps not quite so happy as during the first two years. A vague, indefinable shadow seems to have 66 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB crept into the luxurious household. A little damper seems to have been thrown on the effusiveness of Bob's feelings. In fact, tho he would not at first confess it, he feels a grudge against Betty. What is the matter? Has he tired of her? No. But Bob wants an heir, a male heir, to his growing fortune, and Betty is not giving him any heirs. In fact she is not having any children at all. She feels guilty, poor thing. For equally with Bob she is sure that it is she who is to blame. It certainly could not be Bob's fault. Such a strong, powerful man, in such perfect health . . . while Betty is rather slight and delicate; tho nothing seems to be the matter with her. He hated to broach the subject, but he finally got together enough courage to do so. He wants her to be treated. Perhaps a little treatment at the hands of a promi- nent physician would bring matters around all right. He heard of such cases. 67 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB Tho with a heavy heart Betty agrees. What will a wife not do to satisfy her husband, especially where she thinks she is not entirely fulfilling her part of the marital contract? And besides, she does want to have children, she passionately, longingly wants to have them. Bob does not fill up her entire life. Every year the void is greater. And she wants children to occupy her heart, her mind, her time. She knows that within her is a deep well of maternal love, which is going shame- fully to waste. And so one morning she and Bob drive over to the most fashionable gynecologist in town, Prof. J. Bob explains the matter in private and tells the doctor that money is no object. He does not want to know what the fee is; let him use his best skill and then send in the bill. And Betty enters upon a course of irksome, unpleas- ant and occasionally painful treatment. Her womb was cleansed, painted, douched, 68 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB curetted, tilted, supported and what not. The famous gynecologist said that it would require a very long course of treat- ment, before any results could be ex- pected, and for three years off and on Betty bore it painfully and resignedly. The only result, however, of the treat- ment was a bill for four thousand dollars, the doctor declaring that he could do no more in the matter. Bob paid the bill un- grudgingly, but his grudge against Betty took on a deeper hue. And tho he faith- fully tried to conceal it, it did not escape Betty. Two years more passed. Bob and Betty had been married ten years, and still no heir. And Bob was getting like one ob- sessed on the subject. It became his idee fixe. To the perfectly legitimate desire to leave a descendant was superadded the vulgar fear what will become of all my fortune when I die? He brooded on the subject day and night; he became gloomy 69 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB and irritable, occasionally rude, and Betty had long ago given up the attempt to soothe and pacify him. She lived her own life, chiefly among books, and Bob lived his own. Things were becoming strained. Bob said he had to go away on business for a few days. He went, and after he was gone for about a week, Betty received a long letter from him. She was stunned for the moment ; it was a matter of hours before she was her own self. The lines in her face became a little harder, the ex- pression a little graver but that was all. If a storm was brewing within her, it could not be noticed on the outside. She gathered a few of her things, wrote a short note, and before nightfall she was gone. What did Bob's letter contain? It was a jumble of excuses, apologies, repetitions, circumlocution, etc., but out of it all one thing stood out clearly. " In justice to himself and to his business " Bob thought 70 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB that he must divorce Betty. He was too cowardly to tell her that viva voce he was still a little afraid of her a reminder of the older days and so he had recourse to the usual instrument of the coward, a letter. He hoped, he said, that after she had thought over the matter carefully, she would see that he was not to blame, that he was right and that she would not put any obstacles in his way of getting a divorce. Of course he would provide for her liberally. . . . The note that Betty left was of the fol- lowing contents : BOB: I have considered myself di- vorced for some time. You are free. I shall in no way be a burden to you in the future and I hope that our ways will never cross. BETTY. When Bob returned home and found that Betty was gone, he was at first over- 71 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB whelmed with feelings of shame, fear and remorse. He was considering whether it would not be best to go to her, beg her forgiveness, ask her to forget his brutal letter, as if it never had been written, etc. But the intense egotism of the man got the upper hand, and very soon his feeling of remorse gave way to a sense of satis- faction that Betty was making things so much easier for him. On the whole he was glad she was gone : he feared so much the explanations with Betty and the scenes which he expected would follow them. He wanted to communicate with her, but she was not to be found. As a matter of fact, Betty was on her way to Europe. She had a little money of her own, she realized on her jewelry and was gone. She wanted to " complete her education." For the last two years she had been stifling in the atmosphere of tier home. As she was broadening under the influence of great books, Bob's nar- 72 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB rowness, his smallness, his utter lack of idealism, began to pall on her more and more. It is doubtful if she ever would have taken the initial step in leaving Bob's house. Inertia, custom, habit are the world's greatest hold-down forces. But when Bob himself opened the door, she the first shock over could not walk out quick enough. And she could not bear to remain in her home town. A day seemed an age to her. It drew her into the world, she wanted to breathe the air of freedom, away from the neutral narrowness, deadly dullness, and condemning conventions of the society of which she was a member. And so away she went, and Paris was her destination. Bob applied for a divorce on the ground of abandonment, the papers were served on Betty in Paris, she did not defend the suit, and as money was no object with Bob when he wanted something, the cov- eted divorce was soon in his hands. And 7* THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB soon he married again. . . . The name is immaterial. But she came from a pro- lific family, was a healthy animal, a chic dresser, and worldly wise. Three years passed and Bob was still without an heir. He was in despair. Tho not very hopeful, he took his wife over to Dr. R., who was becoming well-known both for his ability and his straightfor- wardness. He was a different sort of a man from Dr. J. His opinions were not influenced by the prospects of fat fees. He examined Mrs. Carey II. and could find nothing wrong with her. Dr. R. was up to date and he knew that in cases of sterility the husband is much more often to blame than the wife is. He asked Mrs. C. to wait in the parlor and asked Bob to come into the office. He took his en- tire early history, subjected him to a searching quiz, which made Bob feel as if he was undergoing the third degree. He then subjected him to a physical examina- 74 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB tion, made certain microscopic tests and as a result of which he told him rather curtly: " Mr. C., the only way Mrs. C. could have children for you, would be by getting herself another husband. You will never be the father of any children. It is the legacy left you by your illness in San Francisco. No, it is absolutely useless for you to undergo any treatment. We are powerless to do anything in a case like yours. Anybody who will undertake to treat you, will be obtaining money under false pretenses. But there are plenty of charlatans who will be glad to have you as a patient. Good-day." Bob walked out as one on whom a death sentence had been pronounced. His wife was shocked at his appearance. His color was ashy, his knees were shaking. He be- came gloomy and morose. But Robert Carey was not a deep feeling man. Grad- ually he became reconciled to his condition. 75 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB Only he began to worship Bacchus more assiduously, and he spent more of his evenings at the club, leaving Mrs. Carey to find amusement elsewhere. And as he would be sitting puffing a rich Havana, the vision of the sweet and calm face of Betty, the only human being he ever really loved, would appear in the clouds of the tobacco smoke. Where was she now? What was she doing? And as he recollected the painful, humiliating, unnecessary treatment to which Betty was subjected for three long years, he felt a sharp pang of remorse; and as he thought of the unjust and useless divorce, as he compared the good, faithful Betty with the present selfish, amusement loving and rather loose Mrs. Carey Number 2 he felt sick at heart. And then he ordered another bottle of champagne. Bob and his wife were returning from Europe. Mrs. Bob had a great time. She 76 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB made numerous friends, not all of irre- proachable character, and her liaisons were becoming the talk of the smart set. Bob had to look on, grin and bear it and say nothing. He did make some objec- tions at first, but Mrs. Bob paid not the slightest attention to them. She was get- ting coarser and bolder and told Bob plainly that she went to Europe to have a " real good time " and if he did not like it, he could go back to the States. He had his good time in his youth, now she was going to have hers. And she made some remark referring to their visit to Dr. R. which made Bob wince. And he never made any further objections. And now they are returning from Europe, and it is a beautiful day. They occupy the most expensive state- room on the upper deck, but it is doubtful if the cheapest berth in the steerage will receive that night an individual more miserable and more disgusted with life, 77 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB than one Robert Carey, Esq. On the same steamer with the Careys is the famous American author, Thornton, with his wife and children. And when they go down to dinner the Careys find themselves seated at the Captain's table, opposite the Thorntons. And as Robert Carey, Esq., looks up at Mrs. Thornton, the olive which he is carrying to his lips drops out of his fingers and rolls on the heavy car- peted floor, his lips quiver and a mist covers his eyes. For radiant and happy, with a sweet, perhaps slightly pitying smile, sits before him his former Betty. On her right is her husband, who seems to have eyes for nobody but her, and to the left of her sit her two little manly boys, and a cherub-like little girl. There is a strained introduction, hardly perceptible bows are exchanged, and an awkward silence ensues. Mr. Robert harclly tastes his dinner. He excuses himself, leaves the table before the dessert is served, and- 78 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB shuffles away to the darkest and remotest corner of the steamer. As he looks upon the opening and closing furrows out on the smooth ocean mirror by the wheels of the giant steamer, he thinks. Perhaps he never before thought so deeply. And this is what he thinks: " Ignorance has ruined my life. Ig- norance of its dangers made me throw myself into sexual promiscuity. Igno- rance of the means of prevention caused my infection. Ignorance of the possible future dangers caused me to neglect treatment, until too late. And igno- rance, stupid, brutal, inexcusable, igno- rance, ignorance on my part and dishonest cupidity on the part of Dr. J. caused me to lose, to deliberately drive away from me, the dearest, sweetest, gentlest and kindest woman on earth, the only woman I ever loved, the only woman I ever will love, until I breathe my last." And leaning against the railing he 79 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB stood motionless for many, many hours. And he meditated as he never did before. There is no stronger stimulus to thought than an irretrievably lost love, a love lost thru our own shortcomings. And after a while a thought came to his mind, the noblest thought that he had probably en- tertained in many years. " There is no evil without some good. Perhaps it is better so. See how happy she is. Could I have made her so happy? No. In a childless, cheerless, narrow home she would have withered away. It does not require a deep insight to see that she leads now a full, satisfying, happy life. . . . Perhaps it is better so." And this altruistic thought helped him to bear with a semblance of outward calm- ness the six days of the trip, which would otherwise have been an unbearable torture to him. Mr. and Mrs. Carey live in the same house, but they are practically strangers 80 THE STORY OF BETTY AND BOB to each other. She goes her way, bois- terously, he goes his way, quietly. He has no hopes, no expectations, but he has learned to be resigned, and he bears his cross unostentatiously. And frequently and as the years go by, more and more frequently he takes out a miniature from his pocket case and looks at it, long, long. . . . 81 WHO WOULD BLAME HER WOULD YOU? WHO WOULD BLAME HER WOULD YOU? I learned that Brannigan got married I was dumb- founded. "The Hound 1" I could not help exclaiming. Only six months previously he had ap- plied to me for treatment. He had a fresh and florid case of syphilis, which I knew would require long and careful management, before the virus would be more or less eliminated from the system and make him a safe individual to mingle with his fellowmen. He had blotches and pimples on his face, forehead and body, his hair was coming out, he had a nasty sore throat and white patches on his lips, tongue and inside his cheeks. He followed treatment faithfully which for a person of his class rather sur- prised me. For Brannigan was a saloon- 85 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? keeper and quite a politician (or perhaps ward-heeler would be more correct), and for these people to give up smoking and drinking is quite a sacrifice, a sacrifice which they are seldom willing to bring, even if they promise you that they will. But Brannigan apparently followed in- structions carefully and after three months' treatment his external condition was excellent. The eruption had en- tirely disappeared, and leaving the whis- key alone took away the puffiness from his usually bloated countenance, so that he looked even better than before he be- came sick. So that to the layman he looked a picture of health. He was tell- ing me that his friends remarked on his exceptionally good appearance, and asked me if I thought he still needed treatment. Did he still need treatment? I explained to him that not three months, but three years at least is what he needed. But I saw he was skeptical. 86 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? The trouble with the common, coarse people is, that as soon as they get rid of pain, or of external disfigurements, they think that treatment is superfluous. They thus allow the disease to gain further headway, and when pain and eruptions again make their appearance, they re- apply to the physician. Often it is too late to do anything in the way of curing the disease; all that can be done is to re- lieve the symptoms. I explained to him these points, but, as I said, I saw he was skeptical. And then he startled me out of my chair by the announcement that he in- tended to get married soon. I explained to him, using all the eloquence and per- suasive power at my command, that he was not in a position to get married, that he had no moral right to do so, that he would infect his wife, that she would have miscarriages, that if she gave birth to a living child, it would be puny, weakly and 87 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? would probably die at an early age, etc., etc. It was of no use. His moral code was apparently a blank. He said that the day of his wedding was set, that he couldn't well put if off, and that he didn't think anything would happen. If any- thing should, he would then request my services. I told him that a man who, be- ing in his condition, would marry an inno- cent woman, deserved solitary confine- ment in the penitentiary for life ; hanging or shooting was too good for him. I then dismissed him, and that was the last I saw of him for a while. And when I heard that soon after he married Jessie Costello, who was barely out of her teens, my heart ached. Of course there can be no ques- tion of love in such a case. Brutal animal passion perhaps. But whether he was attracted to her by her young pretty face, or by the considerable dowry left her by iher father (he had been dead some two years, and she lived with her mother and a 88 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? younger sister) is hard to say. Probably by both. My heart ached, tho I knew the Cos- tellos but slightly; but I was utterly help- less in the matter. I met Brannigan some two months after his marriage. He looked well and he told me, with a rather impudent smile, that he felt as fine as a fiddle, that his wife felt fine, and that he didn't think he would ever need me. I had moved to another part of the city and I didn't hear of the Brannigans for about five years. Then one morning Mrs. Brannigan appeared at my office. We physicians are used to see changes in women, who we knew as girls. This is particularly true of the poorer classes. Overwork, frequent childbearing, nurs- ing, sleepless nights, disagreement with the husband, etc., etc., often work havoc with the faces of young women. But the changes in Mrs. Brannigan, nee Costello, were so extraordinary, that my heart stood 89 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? still for the moment. She had been plump, she was now as thin as a skeleton. She had had a wealth of black, glossy hair, now her hair was thin, " moth-eaten," lus- treless. One of her eyes was half closed, and the sight in it was almost entirely gone, but what made her almost unrecog- nizable and repulsive, was the nose. The bridge of her once Roman nose was deeply sunken, so that the tip looked way up- ward, and the flattened organ emitted a sickening disagreeable odor. She noticed that I was struck by the change in her ap- pearance, and she smiled very sadly. I took her history and I copy it briefly from my case book: She began to ail about three months after her marriage. She had a bad sore throat, very severe headache, fever, pains in the muscles, her hair came out, her face and cheeks got blotchy, etc. [Of course I needed no more symptoms to know what was the matter with her.] She wanted to see a doctor, 90 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? but her husband didn't think it was nec- esssary. He said he knew something good himself. He bought her some pills, which did her very much good. The pain went away, the face cleared up, etc. About two months later she had a miscarriage. In two months another eruption; pim- ples, pustules and blotches all over the body, and in four months another mis- carriage. She had in all five miscarriages ; finally about nine months ago she gave birth to a living child, but it was very weak, had an eruption on the body, and its nose was flat and fallen in. Whenever she would get an eruption her husband would bring her some pills and some medicine [undoubtedly from the prescriptions which I had given him] and she would improve. After about two years of this home treatment she insisted on seeing a physician, and her husband brought her one. The doctor examined her, said she had eczema and prescribed. 91 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? The medicine improved her condition con- siderably, but temporarily. Of course the doctor knew what the disease was, but he was instructed by the husband, as doctors so often are in such cases, not to tell the truth. And so she had been going on for five years. Excepting the first three months of her married life, she never had a day of health or of peace. She was constantly suffering. The treatment was intermit- tent and only served to relieve the sever- est symptoms. Now the medicine was not having much effect. 1 During the last i'I can fully corroborate the statement of Fournier and other great syphilologists, that in women contract- ing syphilis from their husbands, the disease often pur- sues a most malignant course. And for the mere reason, that the cowardly beasts, i.e., the husbands, are afraid to tell their wives what the matter is and so the disease is allowed to progress until such a time when treatment is well-nigh useless. Fournier relates among others a case similar to ours, of a young woman who contracted the disease from her husband and was not treated. A few years later the forehead, the palate, a part of the face, half of the upper lip and the whole of the nose wre destroyed. 93 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? year she hardly left her room : she was so much ashamed of her appearance. Hun- dreds of times, she said, she wished her- self dead, and I gathered from her re- marks that but for her strong religious faith, she being a devout Roman Catholic, she would have done away with herself long ago. Her husband also had occa- sional eruptions, but not so bad. He was now an alderman, and expected soon to be nominated for assemblyman. I under- stood that he was not treating her well. He was running around with other women, and with one he was keeping com- pany " pretty steady." What brought her now to my office? Up to the day previous she had no idea that she had any kind of a " bad " disease, or a "catching" sickness. Yesterday a cousin of hers, who was a medical student in Boston, came to see her; he was shocked by her appearance, and inadvertently re- marked that she must be suffering from 93 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? a very bad disease, which required very energetic and very thoro treatment. At any rate he was sure she was not suffering from eczema. The doctor who made the diagnosis must have been very ignorant or must have deceived her deliberately. He had heard of me and advised her to consult me. He knew I would tell her the exact truth. As she knew I had treated her husband once, she went to see me the very next day. I told her what her disease was and also told her that only the most energetic treatment could save her from its further ravages. I was afraid her nose was hopelessly doomed, but of course did not tell her so. She asked me how people got this disease. I tolpl her the usual way, but added that people sometimes got infected from drinking cups, from using a towel which a syphili- tic had used, from being shaved by a bar- ber who had the disease on his hands, etc. " And did my husband have the disease 94 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? before he married me? " she asked in high tension. I told her as gently as I could, that I regretted very much not to be able to give her any information regarding her husband's condition. We were not supposed to speak of our patients to any- body. I would give all the information she desired regarding herself, but she must not ask me any questions regarding her husband. But I fear she understood. And this I could not help. Was I called upon to tell a deliberate untruth for the sake of whitewashing her husband? Cer- tainly not. Neither morally nor legally did I have any such obligation. She wanted to put herself into my full charge, but unfortunately or fortunately I could not take the case, as we were leaving in a few days for Europe, for a nine months' trip (that was in 1905). I gave her, however, the names of two specialists and told her that either one would treat her intelligently and con- 95 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? scientiously, and would do as much for her as I could. Some two or three months after I re- turned home, I learned that what I had feared had happened: Poor Mrs. Branni- gan's nose was completely gone. The disease had made too deep inroads and there was no possibility of saving it. She was wearing an artificial nose, and but very, very seldom left the house, and when she did she was heavily veiled. Some months later I heard that her baby, the only one she had, died. It had always been puny and sickly, and when it got broncho-pneumonia, it had no chance at all. When a child is born with a strong hereditary taint, is not treated properly, and gets one of the children's diseases measles, bronchitis, pneumonia or whoop- ing cough, etc., the death certificate may, in ninety per cent, of the cases, be written out beforehand. Mrs. Brannigan did not attend the child's funeral. She was too 96 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? weak to go out. But Mr. Brannigan did and he came home in a hilarious condition, half drunk. And the following morning the neigh- borhood was shocked by the news that Mrs. Brannigan had shot her husband dead, while he was asleep, and then killed herself. The servants testified at the in- quest that after the first shot they heard some conversation. Mr. Brannigan seems to have asked why she did it, and she ap- parently explained to him. But the answer must have been a short one, for the second shot which killed Mrs. Brannigan, fol- lowed very soon after. The papers had it, that Mrs. Brannigan's act was done in a temporary fit of insanity, caused by the loss of her child and by an incurable dis- ease with which she was afflicted. But it was not a fit of insanity. The act was carefully premeditated, and was com- mitted by her as a duty, as a punishment of a dastardly crime. In her letter, which 97 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? the newspapers did not get possession of and which here appears for the first time, she explains and attempts to justify her action. Here it is : ". . . May the Lord forgive me! I know I am about to commit a mortal sin, but maybe it is a bigger sin to let such a man as Dan live. I have nothing to live for. My baby, the only creature which needs me, is going to die. The doctor said there was no hope for it. He took me young and healthy and see what he made of me. If he killed me outright the crime would not have been so great as what he [has] done to me. I never knew a good day since I married him. A man has no right to treat a woman like that. And now our baby is just like dead. And I feel I ain't going to live long. And I know when I am gone he is going to marry Mrs And he will make her sick and miserable, and she will have sick chil- 98 WHO WOULD BLAME HER? dren that don't deserve to live. No, that is too much. Let him suff er for his sins, for hiding from me what kind of sickness I had so I could be treated by a good doctor. . . . May the Lord help me." Here followed some more lines which were not quite legible. And so Brannigan expiated his sin, by being shot, a punishment which I had told him was too good for him. Mrs. Brannigan, crazed by the outrages com- mitted upon her person by a conscienceless wretch, took the moral law into her own hands. I cannot find it in my heart to blame Her can you? A WONDERFUL COUNTRY A WONDERFUL COUNTRY) is a canton in Switzer- land which is more beautiful than all the rest, more richly endowed by Nature, more developed economically, more advanced in everything that consti- tutes true Progress and Civilization. The average tourist seldom or never visits that canton. It is too much out of the way, no railway or diligence leads there, and you are obliged to make the journey on foot or on wings, if you have any. It is a long journey, but the labor is well re- paid when you get there. I was bound to visit that place, of which I had heard and dreamed so much, and I started out one Saturday morning about 4 o'clock. The night air was cool and bracing, I breathed deeply, and it seemed to me that I hardly touched the ground. I felt 103 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY happy, and rather soared than walked. After five hours' walk, at ahout 9 A. M. I entered the capital of the canton. What struck me first was the remark- ahle cleanness of the streets. The pave- ment was of a peculiar character: it was so soft that it seemed to yield under your feet. Not a particle of dust. Two double rows of trees on each side of the street. Each house stood separately, sur- rounded by a little garden. Men, wo- men and children were going to and fro, and, whether imagination or not, it seemed to me that real, genuine happiness was shining out of every face. Everybody seemed to say: " I feel happy, satisfied, I am glad I am alive." There was not a trace of that tension which you notice on the faces of New Yorkers for in- stance, no " bags " under the eyes, no care- denoting lines, no wrinkles in short, no tell-tale marks of hurry, worry, dissipa- tion, sleeplessness, suffering, job-hunting, 104, A WONDERFUL COUNTRY hunger-fear. Of course they noticed I was a foreigner, and every one greeted me with a smile and a cheery good-morn- ing. I felt hungry. You never feel so hungry as after an Alpine tramp in the early morning. I entered into a dairy the cleanliness of the place haffles de- scription took two glasses of milk and some rolls (and no $10 a plate dinner can ever taste as good) , was surprised at the insignificant amount asked in pay- ment, and proceeded to drink in the balmy air the only beverage of which you can never drink too much and to see the town. After walking forty or fifty blocks, I thought I would go and introduce my- self to some physician or pharmacist and have a chat. It then struck me that all the time I had been walking I had not noticed a single physician's sign or a single drug store. I was rather surprised, and walked further. After roaming 105 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY about aimlessly for another hour I was about to ask a passer-by for an explana- tion of the phenomenon when I noticed a large house surrounded by a large gar- den which instinct told me was a hospital. It had none of the outward signs of a hospital, but my surmise was right. I opened the gate, entered, and the gar- dener, who was trimming some rose bushes, greeted me with extreme polite- ness and affability and asked me whom I wanted to see. I told him the physician- in-chief . I soon stood before a gentleman whose personality I shall never forget if I were to live another hundred years. Tall, broad-shouldered, clear-complex- ioned, beaming with strength, kindness and intelligence such was, such is, Dr. Boncoeur. Five minutes had not passed, and I thought we had been friends for years. I told him my astonishment at not Hav- ing seen the sign of a single doctor or 106 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY druggist. As each country has its own code of ethics, I thought perhaps it was un- ethical in this canton to display any sign at all, just as it is unethical in the United States to display the sign of your spe- cialty. " No, my dear Dr. Robinson, you saw no signs of doctors or druggists be- cause there are practically no doctors and druggists in this canton." I thought he was joking. No, he was perfectly serious. " What would they do here ? They would starve." Seeing that I was somewhat puzzled and nettled, he became serious. "I'll ex- plain to you," he said. " What are you, a general practitioner or a specialist?" I told him my specialty, " Well, one part of your specialty (and the greater part, no doubt) is entirely non-existent in our canton. We haven't had a case of venereal disease in oh, I don't know how many years. What is the real cause of venereal disease? The real and only ulti- 107 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY mate cause is prostitution. Prostitution is fed by (has back of it) two causes, and two causes only: Poverty and ignorance. Indeed, I might say one cause ; for ignor- ance, in our days, may be considered as an accompaniment of poverty. It is not so much the poverty of the women in fact, this is bui' a subsidiary cause as the poverty of the men of all classes, which prevents them from marrying early and thus creates a demand for prostitu- tion. Whenever there is a demand, there is a supply. In our canton the economic conditions are such that everybody who is willing to work is sure of a living, and our young men marry generally at the age of 18, 20 and 22. A great deterrent to marriage in former times was, and in other countries is now, the fear of too many children. But regulation of repro- duction is not only permitted here, but is encouraged. The prevention of con- 108 ' A WONDERFUL COUNTRY ception is not a crime, and people have children only when they want to, and only as many as they want. In a nutshell : economic conditions are good, girls needn't sell their bodies to make a living; men marry early and create no demand, pros- titution is non-existent, and its results venereal diseases have disappeared. So what would a venereal specialist do here? " " How about marital infection and he- reditary syphilis?" "None whatsoever. While we passed no laws, public opinion was so strong in the case of a man infecting his wife, or causing her to bear syphilitic children, that men made pretty sure not to marry unless they were themselves sure of being clean and healthy. We have not at pres- ent a gonorrheic or syphilitic in the can- ton, and consequently there is no fear of infected wives or syphilitic children." "How about skin diseases?" "We have almost none. I once at- 109 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY tended a skin clinic in Berlin. Out of 200 cases seen on one Sunday morning I counted nearly 180 cases, or 90 per cent, of eczema, trade dermatites, psoriasis, acne, scabies, pediculosis, etc. Now, practically all of these diseases are due to an improper mode of living unclean- liness, too much beer, etc. We have elim- inated all these factors, and so skin disease is a rare thing indeed." "How about surgery?" I asked. > I confess we are rather poor surgeons, Because we have so little surgery to do. Let us see." Here he took down from the shelf a big text-book on surgery, " Gunshot Wounds. 3 ' Two hundred pages devoted to gunshot wounds ! " Well, we have no gunshot wounds, for the simple reason that we have no guns, no pistols. There isn't a firearm in the place. What could we do with them? No, we are not afraid of foreign invasion. Railway accidents. no A WONDERFUL COUNTRY We have no railway accidents. First we use the most scientific safeguards ; second, our engineers and conductors are not over- worked, and third, our people are never in a hurry. They get where they want to, but there is no rush and no crush, and therefore no accident. Treatment of strictures. Having no gonorrheas, we also have no strictures to treat. Fractures and dislocations. There hasn't been a frac- ture or dislocation in this canton for at least fifty years. None should ever hap- pen in an intelligent country where the people are civilized, cool-headed and care- ful." "How about gynecology?" I asked. " Is it possible that you have no room for gynecologists? In our country, in the United States, gynecology is one of the busiest and best-paying specialties." " Well, let us see again. Take off the diseases caused (1) by non-gratification or perverted gratification of the natural lii A WONDERFUL COUNTRY sexual instinct, (2) by improper attempts at prevention of conception, (3) by delib- erately induced abortion or attempts at abortion, (4) by gonorrheal affection from the husband, (5) by congestions due to colds, superinduced by improper cloth- ing, dancing in overheated halls, etc., and '(6) by labors conducted by ignorant mid- wives, and what is left for your gynecolo- gist? Very little." " How about tuberculosis? " " That disease has been stamped out in our canton long ago. Tuberculosis is a disease of poverty, ignorance, poor food, vitiated air and overwork. All these causes have been removed here long ago." "How about heredity?" "Heredity plays but an insignificant role, and its influence can be entirely nulli- fied by environment." And so Dr. Boncoeur went thru the en- tire list of diseases, and showed that ap- proximately ninety per cent were entirely 112 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY avoidable diseases, avoidable accidents. And, as it would not pay for physicians to engage in private practice, there is a municipal hospital in each town, with three to a dozen physicians, where the few cases of disease and accident that do occur are treated, free of course. Nor are there any drug stores. He showed me the hospital pharmacy, and I was astonished at the small number of drugs. " Well, it is bet- ter to have a small number of standard- ized drugs, and active principles and know exactly what each one will do than to have a lot of uncertain, unreliable prep- arations administered on a guess." Here he smiled. "Oh, yes; I know what is going on in the rest of the world, tho we do live rather secluded." Naturally Dr. Boncoeur invited me to lunch, and forever shall I carry with me the memory of those pleasant hours passed in the company of the good doctor, his charming, trim, jolly and somewhat co- ns A WONDERFUL COUNTRY quettish wife and his five sturdy children three boys and two girls. We talked, and talked, and talked or rather he talked and I listened dreamily. " Of course," I said, " as you have prac- 'tically done away with doctors, you are certainly getting along without lawyers? " "Most certainly. There isn't a law- yer in the canton. Lawyers thrive on crime and dissension, and if they do not actually disseminate the former they cer- tainly do the latter. And what do we want lawyers for? Crime is the result of poverty and ignorance. People are essentially good. It is poverty, or rather the fear of poverty, that makes people graft, cheat, rob, lie, steal, adulterate, commit arson, forgeries, perjuries, etc. The fear of poverty is absolutely un- known in our canton. A person is no more afraid that he will have no food to eat or no house to live in than he is afraid that he will have no air to breathe. There A WONDERFUL COUNTRY is plenty for everybody, and the distri- bution of wealth being more equitable, there is no envy, jealousy or class hatred. Occasional misunderstandings occur, but they are settled easily by an umpire, or by some respected citizen in whose keen judgment and unbiased mind every one has confidence. We have many such citi- zens. You might call them judges; but they are not professional judges, and do not get paid. Do they study law? No; we have found out that it is not necessary to study law and statute books in order to be able to determine questions accord- ing to right, justice and common sense. Every citizen is permeated with the spirit of fair play, and quarrels are nipped in the bud." I spent a week with Dr. Boncoeur and his assistant, and I shall not attempt to put down all the delightful things I saw and heard; some other time. We drove thru the country, and the 115 A WONDERFUL COUNTRY happiness and contentment on the faces of the inhabitants acted as a balm to my overstrung nerves. ' Of course there wasn't a vestige of a jail or of an in- sane asylum. "Happy people 1 Happy country!" thought I, with a feeling of admiration mixed with a trace of envy. I decided to revisit that beautiful country at every possible opportunity. And I go there very often. 116 THE LIFE HISTORY OE AN IDEAL MAN THE LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN XAM telling you the story as I heard it from the lips of the chief actors. If ever there was an ideal boy, Jack Martin was one. No wonder. The at- mosphere in which he grew up was an ideal one. He was sweet and gentle and he had blond hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks. No wonder. His mother was sweet and gentle and she had blond hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks. His parents were rich and he was not sent to public school. The public school was a vulgar and dangerous institu- tion, the parents decided. The children learned there many vulgar expressions they even learned to swear and they were in danger of being initiated into bad and debilitating habits; and so until the 119 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN age of ten, he was in the hands of gov- ernesses, sweet old maids, who taught him arithmetic and history and geography and good manners, and instilled in him a wholesome repugnance for everything profane and vulgar. Later he was given a private tutor. He was a nice dry man, without an original idea in his head, with a few superstitions, but no illusions, on which fact he prided himself. He was sure that in this world everybody worked only for himself and that altruism was a delusion. But he was a good teacher, and under his instruction Jack acquired a fair knowledge of Latin and Greek, a fairly fair knowledge of al- gebra and geometry, a mediocre knowl- edge of conventional history, and no knowledge at all of physiology and hy- giene for the latter two subjects were not required in the college entrance ex- aminations. When Jack entered college he was as 120 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN pure and innocent as a young girl is, or is supposed to be. The jokes and allu- sions of his college chums he did not un- derstand at first. When he did, he felt revolted. Their invitations to go out and have a drink, or to have a good time, he declined with indignation. He never stayed out nights, to the delight of his father and mother, particularly his mother. By his college chums it was soon decided that he was a " sissy," and he was let alone. He did not participate in the college sports. He was not popular in the class, but he was respected for his uncompro- mising honesty, for his willingness to help. He gradually improved in his studies as he passed from class to class, and when he was graduated he carried off the three highest prizes. He was the joy of his parents, who idolized him. He special- ized in ancient history and soon got a lectureship in his alma mater. Three 121 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN years later he had a full professorship. He was then twenty-eight years old. When he met Juliet Brandon he felt as if shot. Never did Cupid direct a straighter nor a sharper arrow. He was somewhat dazed. He didn't understand it at first, but he soon knew what it was. It was love. Violent, blazing, all en- grossing, all consuming, all overcoming, never-dying love. Love is blind and needs no arguments, but if the god of love had a thousand eyes and wanted a thou- sand arguments he would have been satis- fied. With his keenest gaze he could not have found a flaw in Juliet Brandon, and not a single argument could he have found why Jack should not love Juliet; all the arguments would have been why he should. Juliet had beautiful black hair, large black, limpid eyes, a well developed bust, prominent hips, and a shapely, firm, tho not too small foot. Was it any of those 122 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN things, or all those things combined, that attracted him? He did not know. He only Lxiew that she was a beautiful human teing, a woman to her very fingertips, and that he experienced intense happiness in her presence. Both physically and mentally he felt more healthy, more buoy- ant, mor, elastic. He also knew very soon that life with- out her would be neither possible nor de- sirable. Juliet soon became aware of Jack's feelings :: her, and gradually tho slowly to her feeling of high regard for him there was added a feeling of love. It was not the tempestuous, consuming feeling it was strong, honest love, love that promised not only to last forever, but to grow stronger as the years passed by. And when Jack asked her to be his wife she said Yes, without hesitation. She felt she could rely on Jack and that he would remain constant to her to his dying day. 123 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN The kiss that sealed their betrothal in- troduced Jack to a new, never-experienced sensation, a sensation of indescribable happiness. The months of engagement were for Jack months of vertiginous bliss, or blissful vertigo. When Jack and Juliet were married there was not a hap- pier couple and the universal verdict was : A happy marriage, an ideal couple. The day following the wedding there was a puzzled, disappointed expression on Juliet's face. In three months Juliet be- came irritable, and in six months she was hysterical and cried on the slightest pro- vocation, or on no provocation at all. And with a troubled conscience she began to perceive that her love for Jack was waning. She respected him as much as ever, but his presence did not aif ord her any pleasure. And Jack was as nice to her, as loving, as kind as in the days of their engagement. A year passed and Juliet had to con- 124, LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN fess to herself in horror that she began to dislike Jack, that his presence was dis- agreeable and irritating to her. She tried her very hardest to conceal her feel- ings from Jack, and for a time she suc- ceeded. But it is easy to conceal dislike or even hate when those feelings are purely psychic. It is impossible to con- ceal physical dislike from a person with whom you have to live a disengagement of the hand, an imperceptible shiver at the person's touch, offering the cheek or the head for a kiss when the lips are wanted all these little things tell a story which cannot be misunderstood ; in unmis- takable language they tell the truth, gall- bitter as that may be. And one day Jack knew the truth. And again he felt as if he had been shot shot by a big, heavy bullet, which crushed every purpose out of his life. He loved Juliet so much! He felt so inexpres- sibly blissful in her embrace, at her very 125 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN touch. He knew the dull ghastly fact, but the reason he did not guess. He did not surmise why it should be so. He loved Juilet just as much as ever, in spite of the fact that she aged considerably in the three years, in spite of her irritability, in spite of her having lost her plumpness, in spite of her sallow complexion, in spite of the rings around her eyes. The fact is he did not see any of her blemishes. To him she was as beautiful as on the day he saw her first. But what could have wrought that change in her? He could not make it out. He always considered her very much above himself. He knew she was too good for him, but she married him of her own free will and accord, there was no pressure of any kind so why, why? He puzzled and puzzled and could not make it out. And Juliet did not tell him. Perhaps she herself did not know the reason, except in a vague indefinite manner. Jack endeavored to forget his 126 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN deep sorrow in work. He spent more time with his students, he dug deeper in the dusty tomes of original sources, but in vain. The mainspring of his life was broken. Some months passed. Juliet was a shadow of her former self. She was thin, languid, and looked rather like a crabbed old maid than like a young married woman. Even Jack could not fail to note the great change, and tho he loved her with his former love he had to confess that he had before him only a parody of the Juliet of old. He insisted that a physi- cian be consulted. One specialist after another was consulted. She was exam- ined carefully they could not find out the nature of the trouble. All they could say was that there was nothing organically wrong. The lungs, heart, kidneys and liver were in good condition. Organic and inorganic preparations of iron, phos- phorus, the glycerophosphates, strychnine 127 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN and several other remedies of the ancient and modern materia medica were tried on her with no result, unless spoiling the stomach occasionally may be called a re- sult. Did Jack or Juliet perhaps think of a separation or a divorce? The idea never even for a moment entered the mind of either. They were both deeply religious and they firmly believed that whom God hath joined together no man shall put asunder. And neither thought that apart they would feel better than together. And Juliet remained a dutiful wife and dutifully supplied the rare demands that Jack made upon her. Another year passed. Juliet became melancholic; she spoke rarely and little, but brooded often and much, and once Juliet began to act queerly and had Jack not been on his guard and caught her in time she would have flung herself out of the fourth story window. Jack called in 128 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN an eminent physician. Fortunately it was a physician who knew something more than his text books, who did some think- ing on his own account. After examining Juliet and listening to the history he sized up the situation at once. He asked Jack to come to his of- fice the following day. A physical ex- amination and a frank talk made his sur- mise a certainty. And for the first time after several years of married life did Jack learn the painful truth. The days that followed were the darkest days in the life of Prof. James Martin. His ideals of uprightness and nobleness were genuine they were a part of him. And of one thing he was sure, he had no right to tie Juliet to himself for life. He had no right to crush her existence. He would give her a divorce. He would, of course, take all the blame on himself. He would furnish a cause for action if necessary. He consulted a lawyer? The thing pre- 129 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN sented some difficulties, but could be ar- ranged. But they considered without Juliet, When he hesitatingly broached the sub- ject to her she was thunderstruck. She became deathly pale, began to sway and but for Jack's support would have fallen. She misunderstood the matter entirelyt She thought that Jack wanted the divorce for his sake so that he might marry another woman! When Jack gently ex- plained to her that it was for her sake, when he hinted that he did not suit her perhaps and that she might be happier with another man, a wave of overflowing tenderness arose within her and she per- emptorily refused ever to hear again a word about divorce or separation. Platonically, and in his absence, she loved Jack as much as ever; and now an all-conquering, all-melting feeling of pity for him was born in her heart, and this pity, alloyed with the greater than ever 130 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN respect for the nobility of his character, made her throw her arms around his neck, kiss him impulsively, if not passionately, on the lips and ask forgiveness for the suffering she had caused him. The next few weeks were weeks of ten- der peace to Jack a glimpse of his former bliss. But not for long. Juliet fell back into her melancholy condition and her health began to fail perceptibly. A trip abroad was suggested. It could do no harm, and it might do some good. Juliet was indifferent. They went to Paris, but Paris seemed to exert a pernicious influ- ence over Juliet. The pictures and stat- ues in the Musee du Luxembourg, the street scenes, the theatrical performances, all tended to make her more irritable, more melancholy. Jack's heart ached as he looked at Juliet, but he was helpless. They decided to go from Paris to a quiet spot in Swit- zerland. Under the influence of the 131 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN grand, majestic and at the same time sweet, charm of Swiss nature Juliet im- proved somewhat. She slept better and she became calmer. Hope springs eternal in the breast of man and again Jack be- gan to hope that perhaps things would arrange themselves and Juliet would be- come reconciled to her lot. A trifling occurrence seemed to have brought about a crisis. A young couple abroad on their honeymoon journey ar- rived at the hotel. The innocent, tho somewhat demonstrative, love-making of the young people seemed to irritate Juliet beyond endurance. Their flirting across the table, their hand-pressing, their close walking arm in arm, their semi-clandestine embraces and kisses began to make her frantic and rude. She felt she was un- reasonable, tho the young people were not in any way to blame, but she could not help it. One evening she had a violent fit of 132 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN hysterics, and while in her hysterical con- dition she said some unpleasant things to Jack. Jack tried to pacify her, but his efforts made matters worse. Without realizing exactly what she said, she made a remark which stabbed Jack thru the heart. He felt that the wound was in- curable, and the chasm between Juliet and himself could never be bridged. And the horrible consciousness that he, he alone was to blame, made him sick, deathly sick, at heart. Life seemed to him a burden too heavy to be borne any longer. Prof. Jack Martin did a good deal of mountain climbing during his stay in Switzerland. Juliet did not want him all the time around her, and as she could not accompany him on his lofty expeditions he went alone. For too dangerous as- cents he took a guide. The morning after Juliet's attack, Jack declared that he would climb the Matterhorn. His guide Joseph, who had become much at- 133 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN tached to him, was with him. He bade Juliet good-bye. Perhaps if she had looked at him more closely, or if she had been a better observer, she would have not let him go. For he did not look a bit well. Evidently he had not closed his eyes during the night; but Juliet did not look very closely, nor was she very ob- servant. And so Jack went. In the afternoon the guide came back to the hotel alone. He was greatly per- turbed. Prof. Martin had lost his foot- ing and disappeared. He cautioned him that it was a dangerous crevasse, he told him not to attempt any short cut, but he paid no attention. He said he felt per- fectly secure. When the guide looked around, Prof. Martin was not to be seen anywhere. If he slipped and fell down, then his death was certain. He looked for him for a good two hours but he could find no trace of him. The news was broken gently to Mrs. Martin. It was 134 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN not certain that anything serious had hap- pened to him. He might have simply lost his way. With a shaking, fainting feeling at her heart she gave orders not to spare any expense. A party of res- cuers consisting of seasoned and experi- enced guides of the neighborhood, ac- companied by two clever St. Bernards, was sent out. They searched late into the night; when it became dark torches were lighted. But all was in vain. When the morning came the search was renewed. At last they were rewarded. The spot was found where Prof. Martin must have fallen. His cap and alpen- stock were near the opening of what seemed a bottomless chasm. To attempt to descend there would have been mad- ness, for it meant a certain icy death. And* so Prof. Martin's body was never recovered. Was it an unfortunate acci- dent, or was it a deliberate misstep into the abyss? 135 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN The shock that Juliet experienced on learning of the death of Jack was severe and surprised her by its poignancy, by its crushing weight. She had thought she had not loved Jack any more; but now her old love for him came back in its full force. His sweet, noble face stood before her day and night, and the gentle majesty of his character became every day more and more apparent to her. The fact that she was unable to see his dead face, and the recollection of the way she had treated him on the last evening served to increase her distress. She fell seriously ill and had to be taken to a sanitarium. But time heals all wounds no, not all, but most wounds especially when the pa- tient is young and is possessed of a good constitution. And Juliet was young and had an excellent constitution. Ten years have passed since that fatal event and Juliet is still unable to think 136 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN of it without a slight shudder. But Juliet looks quite different from what she did ten years ago. She looks almost as she did the day Jack Martin met her first, some fifteen years previously. She is a picture of health, of refined, buoyant, vigorous womanhood. Her marriage to Parker Drew took place at the end of the third year of her widowhood. Drew wooed her passion- ately; he appealed to her nature very strongly and she felt the need of male companionship very acutely. But she hesitated she refused. The picture of Jack Martin was deeply engraved in her heart and his memory was getting dearer to her with every passing day. But Drew was not the man to take " No," when he wanted something; and he wanted Juliet with every fiber of his body and soul. He demanded the reason for her persistent re- fusal. She told him of her love for Jack, for his memory. He did not mind that. 137 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN As long as she would learn to love him a little living, he did not mind her loving Jack dead. He persisted. The man is not worth his salt who cannot obtain what- ever he wants from the woman he loves, if given but half a chance, and Parker Drew told her he would have her whether she wanted it or not. Unremitting per- sistence generally wins the point. Parker Drew persisted and Juliet ac- cepted. And from the day she became Parker's wife her love for him has kept on increasing. She cannot imagine how she could pass a day or night without him. Her three children, Jack, Martin and Juliet, idolize their parents and are idolized by them. A happy, intellectual family is the envy of the gods, and the Drews are envied by the gods. Has Juliet forgotten Jack? Not in the least. Her memory of him is undimmed and untarnished. She loves to think of him, of the days of their courtship, of the 138 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN first years of their married life. Parker knows of her platonic love for Jack Mar- tin and he does not mind it. He is too healthy a specimen to bother himself with fine abstract questions. He is sure of Juliet's love. He knows that he has be- come indispensable to her, and he is hap- py in the knowledge. Juliet often won- ders if she is not committing a sort of bigamy; if it is right for her to love two persons at the same time, even if the love for one person is purely platonic and that person is no longer among the living. But the presence or even the voice of Parker reassures her, all her scruples dis- appear and she feels supremely happy. And as long as everybody is happy, why should we care? The seventh and last volume of Prof. Giacomo Martini's History of the An- cient Peoples has just made its appear- 139 LIFE HISTORY OF AN IDEAL MAN ance. By experts it is pronounced the greatest history that has ever been writ- ten, and is a monument not only to the author's wonderful erudition, but to his unremitting energy and limitless capac- ity for work. His original researches which brought to light numerous hitherto inaccessible and even unsuspected sources, his clear diction and sympathetic under- standing of the spirit of the ancient Greeks and Romans have made these peo- ples appear in an entirely new light. Honors and distinctions have been showered upon Prof. Martini, but the world knows little of him, as he but sel- dom leaves the solitude of his studio in his secluded villa at Capri. 140 A NEVER-TOLD TALES MISUN- DERSTANDING A NEVER-TOLD TALES MISUN- DERSTANDING ^a ***N spite of the attacks on our mar- riage system by our good radicals *"~ ^ and free lovers, legal marriages are still taking place and will probably continue to take place for some time to come. And even radicals who ridicule the idea that true love needs the additional bonds of a minister's formula or a magis- trate's seal, still consider it wiser to tie themselves with those additional bonds. James Harvey and Cleo Broughton were radicals. They were convinced that love did not need any legal ceremony, while marriage without love was like a thread of gossamer which could not and should not hold two human beings together ; they believed with Ellen Key that love with- out marriage was moral, while marriage without love was immoral; and neverthe- 143 A MISUNDERSTANDING less when the day came around, they did get married. And in spite of the fact that they were tied to each other by legal chains, they, contrary to the statements of the antimatrimonialists, felt happy. Very happy. For over two years not a tiny cloud crossed the horizon of their domestic felicity. Then Mrs. Harvey thought she wanted to have a baby. At first she used precautions; she did not want to have a baby too soon ; but latterly she not only gave up using precautions, but did everything she knew to get in an interesting position. But still the baby did not come. A year passed, and then another year. And then she felt chagrined. Her ma- ternal instinct asserted itself more and more strongly in spite of her radical ideas. She went to a physician, who told her that he did not see that there was anything the matter with her. Accidentally she came across an early edition of " Never- 144 A MISUNDERSTANDING Told Tales," and as she read the tales therein told her interest grew; and so did her anxiety and her doubt; and when she came to the story of Betty and Bob her doubt grew to a certainty. She was sure that she would never have a child and she was sure that James was the cause of it. She felt blue and irritable for several days. She spoke to James in monosyllables. He could not understand the change in his wife's behavior. James was of an equable temperament, and believed in al- lowing things to take their own course. One day she got up courage and said : " James, I want to talk to you about something." "Yes, dear, what is it?" She blushed, she hesitated, she stam- mered, but finally she did bring it out: " James, have you ever had a venereal disease?" "Why, what has got into your head? Why do you ask? " 145 A MISUNDERSTANDING " Answer me, it is of great importance for me to know the truth." " Well, yes, I had a mild attack several years before I married you, but I was completely cured. I was pronounced perfectly cured by the physician who treated me. Several weeks before our wedding I went to Dr. N., who examined me again and pronounced me cured in the fullest sense of the word, and said that I could get married without any hesita- tion." No, her worst suspicions were now certainties. She knew what those " cures " meant. She had read in a book that once a gonorrhea always a gonor- rhea, and she was sure that James was in the same condition that Bob was, and that she would have to go thru life barren; she felt sure that she would never carry a human being under her heart, that the laugh of a child would never be hers. And with that conviction her longing for 146 A MISUNDERSTANDING a child became terrible in its intensity. A year passed. A year of gloom, of pouting, of reconciliation. Finally Cleo completely retired within herself; she hardly exchanged a word with James. And one morning she told him that she had decided it would be best for them to separate. " How, separate?" asked James. " For a time?" " No, forever. I don't think we are properly mated. And I want to be a mother." James was hit very hard. But true radicals are not supposed to exercise any coercion on their life partners ; it would be considered an indelible disgrace to employ any force, to make any use of marital rights. All James asked was that she should wait a few days, before she took what might prove an irretrievable step. James went to one of New York's best specialists in genito-urinary diseases. He 147 A MISUNDERSTANDING told him his history and asked the doctor to subject him to the most painstaking, most searching examination. The doctor did. And he pronounced him perfectly well. James Harvey went to another specialist and then still to another. All pronounced him perfectly well ; as well as if he had never had any disease. James then had a talk with Cleo. He mildly suggested it was possible that the cause of her not becoming a mother lay in her- self. Oh, no. She was sure of that. He assured her he was perfectly healthy. No, that could not be. She had read several articles on the subject, and from " Never-Told Tales " she had got the im- pression that men never get perfectly well of those diseases. They finally decided to go to a specialist well known in radical circles and to abide by his ver- dict. They went. The doctor examined him, found no trace of any trouble, and with- 148 A MISUNDERSTANDING out hesitation pronounced him perfectly healthy, capable of being the father of numerous progeny. He then suggested that the proper thing to do .would be to examine Mrs. Harvey. He examined her, and had no difficulty in discovering the cause of her childlessness. She had a strongly retroflexed uterus, with an ex- tremely small os. He suggested treat- ment. And he gave Mrs. Harvey a little lecture on the dangers of a little knowl- edge, and of jumping at conclusions. He explained to her that if all men who get venereal disease never got perfectly well, the civilized world would soon be depopulated. A very large percentage of people do get perfectly well, and have as normal progeny as if they never had any disease. Mrs. Harvey underwent treatment for about two months, and ten months after her last visit to the doctor she gave birth to a boy, and again there is no happier 149 A MISUNDERSTANDING couple in New York than Mr. and Mrs. James Harvey. Had an ill-fate left Mr. Harvey with some slight sequela of his original disease, a sequela which would have made it prob- able that he was the cause of the sterility, a catastrophe would have occurred and an otherwise happy home would have been disrupted. And a good share of the fault would with justice have been ascribable to " Never-Told Tales." But is a writer responsible if people misunderstand his thoughts, draw wrong conclusions from insufficient premises, or read into his writ- ings a meaning which is just the contrary of the one he meant to convey? Some- tames he is to blame for not writing so that there could be no possibility of mis- understanding; but in many cases the fault lies with the readers. An author's writing may be as clear as crystal, and still he will be misunderstood by some whose minds are muddled. This is un- 150 A MISUNDERSTANDING avoidable. There is one consolation that an honest writer can always have: This consolation is to be found in the following words of Herbert Spencer: " Whoever hesitates to utter that which he thinks the highest truth, lest it should be too much in advance of the time, may reassure himself by looking at his acts from an impersonal point of view. Let him duly realize the fact that opinion is the agency thru which character adapts external arrangements to itself that his opinion rightly forms part of this agency is a unit of force, constituting, with other such units, the general power which works out social changes; and he will perceive that he may properly give full utterance to his innermost conviction: leaving it to produce what effect it may. It is not for nothing that he has in him these sympathies with some principles and repugnance to others. He, with all his capacities and aspirations, and beliefs, is 151 A MISUNDERSTANDING not an accident, but a product of the time. He must remember that while he is a de- scendant of the past, he is a parent of future; and that his thoughts are as chil- dren born to him, which he may not care- lessly let die. . . . Not as adventi- tious therefore will the wise man regard the faith which is in him. The highest truth he sees he will fearlessly utter; knowing that, let what may come of it, he is thus playing his right part in the world knowing that if he can effect the change he aims at, well: if not well also ; tho not so well." 152 A PAGE FROM THE LIFE OF PROFESSOR BEAUMONT A PAGE FROM THE LIFE OF PROFESSOR BEAUMONT XT was a hot sultry afternoon in the month of August, twenty-five years ago. In the life of an in- dividual twenty-five years is a long period, yet as I close my eyes I can see the whole scene as if I had witnessed it yesterday. I was at that time the proud no, not very proud owner of a drugstore on upper Third Avenue, Harlem a place which used to be then, but is no longer now (for the rents are too high) referred to occasionally as Goatville. Business was rather slow that afternoon, as indeed it was most of the time, and I was not very sorry that it was slow. I was still very young and I much preferred the companionship of books to the prosaic work of selling Epsom Salts or Hood's Sarsaparilla (that was the favorite pat- 155 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. ent medicine of that period, Peruna and Liquezone not yet having been born), or making up pills and suppositories. On that particular afternoon, I remem- ber, I was whiling my time away reading Hugo's UTiomme qui Rit. I must have been very much engrossed in Hugo's fantasy, for I heard no footsteps and looked up with a start on hearing a slight apologetic cough. Before me, on the other side of the counter, was standing a tall, gaunt, seedy very seedy looking individual. His stubby beard was of sev- eral days' or several weeks' growth; his eyes were sunken and so were his cheeks; his color was ashy gray ; his shirt and col- lar had apparently not been changed for weeks and the necktie was noticeable by its absence. He wore heavy winter clothes, in spite of the fact that we were in the midst of August and the thermometer registered 98 degrees in the shade. " Poor bum " was the first thought that 156 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. flitted across my mind. Yes, a bum in- deed in external appearance, and still when you looked a little closer you could not help thinking : " No, not altogether a bum, or if a bum, he has not always been one. He must have had hard luck." I laid my book on the counter and asked him what I could do for him. He shuffled and hesitated, and his face changed color, turning scarlet and then ashy-gray. I saw that the request came hard to him, and as I looked at him more closely I was convinced that I had to do with a fiend. Morphine fiends were the only fiends we had at that time. The anesthetic proper- ties of cocaine had not yet been discov- ered then and we had no cocaine fiends. Nor were there any chloral or ether ha- bitues. I felt great pity for the fellow and told him again to say what he wanted and I would see if I could do it for him. He finally made his request and made it in excellent English, but in Eng- 157 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. lish which nevertheless betrayed the for- eigner. And what he said was this: " Will you have the kindness to give me or sell me ten grains of morphine. I have not any money, but I shall pay you in a week or two." The man's request cer- tainly nonplussed me, and as I was going to interpose some objection, he began to talk volubly in French, noticing on the counter the French book that I had been reading. " Oh, please don't refuse me. No, I am not going to kill myself. I am addicted to the use of morphine. Yes, I know what you think of me. You could never think of me as badly as I do my- self. But I cannot stand it any longer. I must have it. I have been tramping around the whole day, without food, have been in twelve or fifteen drugstores, but in everyone they told me gruffly to get out. Please don't you refuse me. I must have it. I can't stand it any longer, I can't." 158 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. As he was nervously swallowing his words, I noticed that he was trembling all over and he had to catch the counter to prevent himself from falling. I waited no longer, but went to the poison closet, weighed out the morphine and brought it to him. I told him I would give him the drug, but he must promise me to go with me to the backroom and have something to eat. He seemed surprised, took a pinch of morphine I judged about two grains and went with me in the microscopic backroom my friends will still remem- ber it where I sat him down in a chair and told him to make himself thoroly at home. Some color came to his ashy-gray cheeks and a look of gratitude overspread his face. As he removed his hat, I noticed his unusually high forehead, the forehead of a student. I personally prepared some coffee for my guest, and if I made the coffee exceptionally strong, it was with a double purpose; to stimulate his 159 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. failing strength and at the same time to act as an antidote to the morphine. The well-informed know that a strong infu- sion of coffee is a good antidote for mor- phine, both on account of the caffeine and the tannic acid that it contains. My guest drank three cups of coffee and ate several slices of bread and butter and felt much strengthened and refreshed this was quite evident. He did not speak ; neither did I, but I was becoming quite interested. As he got up to go, bidding me adieu, I told him: "No, not adieu, but au revoir. I will ask you no questions, but you must promise to come to-morrow for break- fast." And I gave him a dollar, a whole dollar, which was a lot of money for me at that time and asked him to take a shave and buy himself a shirt and collar. I gave him one of my ties. He took the money simply, without ceremony and left. I was thinking of the fellow all night 160 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. and was wondering whether he would come in the morning or not. He came, and I had great difficulty in recognizing him. It was remarkable what a change a shave and a clean collar and shirt-front will make in a man. He came again the following day and he came for many, many more days. I used to take my breakfast and supper in the store as thousands of poor druggists are still do- ing now going out only for dinner, and those two meals I invited my unknown guest to share with me. As I said, he came for many, many days. And grad- ually I learned his sad story. His name we will call him Beaumont. First, because this is not his name, and second, because it is very nearly his name in another language. His age was about 28; his nationality was Swiss. He spoke and wrote French, English, Ger- man and Italian correctly and fluently He was a graduate of the University of 161 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. Lausanne, from which he had the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. He knew "everything," but his favorite subject was chemistry, and in history and geog- raphy he was a walking encyclopedia. He was laboratory instructor and assist- ant in chemistry to Prof. P. at the Uni- versity of B. His salary was a ridicu- lously low one so low that with us in America it would excite a smile of in- credulity if I stated it. On this salary he had to support himself and his old mother. He had been an only child. His parents were poor Swiss farmers, in fact peasants. His father died when he was very young. The mother was an intelli- gent and ambitious woman. Instead of putting him to work on the farm when he was thru with public school, she worked her fingers off, toiling literally every day from early morn till late at night, to be able to send her boy to college and then to the University. Luckily, he was a 162 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. good student, and he worked hard. At all his examinations he carried off most of the prizes. Fortune seemed to smile on him and his dream, his dream since early youth, to establish a nice comfort- able home, so that his mother, whom he loved passionately, might pass the rest of her days in peace and comfort, seemed to be near realization. During his last year in the University he fell in love with a very sweet girl who reciprocated his af- fection. He showed me her picture and I gladly admitted that it was a sweet and gentle face. And when he received his diploma cum magnet laude and then got the assistantship in the University he was a very happy man. He entered into his work with enthusiasm. All went well. A year or two passed, and while his work was appreciated, there came no raise in his beggarly salary. The home was still a dream and his mother was getting older and weaker. He saw that on his 163 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. salary he could never get married and support a wife and mother. He began to look around for other openings, but his efforts were not crowned with success. He became irritable, despondent, pessi- mistic and therefore unjust. He began to think that he was being " held down " deliberately. He thought Prof. P. was jealous of his knowledge and would give him no chance to advance himself. Such a period comes into the life of almost every high-strung young man; when he sees that his dreams and ambitions are not being realized as rapidly as he, in his youthful ardor, expected, he begins to think that all the world has entered into a conspiracy against him. As just stated, he became irritable and unjust. He had a falling out with Prof. P. and within the same week he also quarreled with the light of his life his sweetheart. He thought she was not showing him enough sympathy. In fact, in his falling out 164 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. with Prof. P. she thought that Prof. P. was right and her beloved one was wrong. He resigned from the University, was too proud to ask forgiveness from his sweetheart and as he now had nothing to live for in Switzerland, he decided to emigrate to America, the land where it rains golden ducats and where it is only necessary to stoop down to fill your pockets with them. He expected that with his knowledge he would have no difficulty in obtaining a position at a salary which would quickly bring him to the realization of his modest dream: the establishment of a home. His mother was opposed to his going, but he was determined. She accompanied him to Pontarlier on the Swiss-French fron- tier. It broke her heart to see him go she said she would never lay her eyes on him again and he was the only thing she had in the world and she sobbed and wept bitterly, something which he had 165 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. never seen her do before. The hard- working Swiss people are not in the habit of giving external vent to their feelings. His heart felt as if it weighed a ton and he became sick with nostalgia a terrible feeling indeed before he was an hour's distance from the Swiss frontier. Of course he could not turn back far bet- ter it would have been if he had, right then and there and so he came to Amer- ica. He felt heavy, but he was buoyed up by hopes. His disenchantment began at the very threshhold of the country. He was dumb- founded and deeply pained at the manner in which the emigrants at Castle Garden were treated by the officials. The han- dling of the crowd by the policemen was still worse gruff and brutal. He was not used to such things. Coming from a republic, where the people are equal not only in theory but in fact, where the po- lice and other officials look upon them- 166 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. selves as ordinary citizens and treat the poor and rich alike, with equal courtesy, he was deeply shocked by what he saw on the first day of his arrival into the land of the free and the home of the brave. A greater shock was preserved for him for the second day of his sojourn. He saw then an entirely new phenomenon. It may be remarked that Dr. Beaumont's hat and clothes were not of the latest American pattern. And then he wore a full beard, and what is still a worse of- fense in the eyes of the New York hood- lum, his hair in the back was quite long. We Americans are the only nation in the world that demands that everybody should look alike and be dressed alike, and ours is the only country perhaps I should only speak of New York in which a man is hooted and insulted to his face, if he happens to, or dares to, look " dif- ferent." And Dr. Beaumont did look different. He was walking in one of the 167 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. upper Eastside streets, deeply engrossed in thoughts of the past and future, with a heart as heavy as lead, when all at once he noticed himself surrounded by a mob of little urchins, who were yelling some- thing, to him unintelligible. He at first thought that the boys were asking for a penny; he had met such crowds of boys, asking rf un soldo, signore "1 in different parts of Italy. He soon discovered, how- ever, that the urchins were not begging. After a while he could distinguish the word " whiskers," and he finally made out that the future pillars of the American republic, our future citizens and sover- eigns, were advising him to get a haircut. Very soon pebbles began to fly and one of them knocked his hat off. More than a year had elapsed since this apparently trifling incident and still when he related it to me, his voice was trembling and there were tears in his eyes. He told me he felt so heartsick that he would have welcomed 168 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. death at the moment. Had he been at- tacked by footpads and robbed, he would not have felt so badly. Every large city has some tough characters, but something, he thought, must be organically wrong in the life and the education of the United States of America, if the children not only the guttersnipes, but the children of the apparently well-to-do for many of them were well dressed could be so ut- terly devoid of respect to their elders, so impudent and so malicious. His shock was particularly severe, because the thing was so entirely new to him, so unusual. He had seen very poor children, he had seen street urchins, but he had never seen urchins with enough brazenness and. im- pudence in them to dare to jeer at and in- sult a passer-by. You can go thru Switz- erland from one end to the other, and be you native or foreigner from a thousand miles away, you will be greeted by whom- ever you meet, young or old, with a 169 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. friendly good-morning, good-day or good-evening, or the peculiarly Swiss Grussel And now here in the great United States of America he, the Swiss savant, to be insulted by street gamins! He felt disheartened, disgusted, and he would have returned to his native land the next day, but for the feeling which keeps so many of us shame. Many young men and women who leave their native nests to hunt for fame and fortune else- where would quickly return to their homes, but for that feeling, shame ; shame to face their friends and relatives and to ac- knowledge their failure, to confess that their flight was a mistake, that their wings were too frail and feeble. To some this feeling of shame proves a blessing, for eventually they attain their objects and realize their ambitions. To others it proves a curse. And so it did to Dr. Beau- mont. He felt disheartened from the start. He advertised for a position, and 170 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. answered advertisements, but the few in- terviews he had did not turn out satis- factorily. He was utterly devoid of the quality so important in our country, namely, push. The few hundred francs he brought along looked very small when changed into dollars; and those few dol- lars were going rapidly. His mother's letters, tho full of love and encourage- ment, were giving him great anxiety. He felt that all was not well with her, as he knew that her mother's intuition told her that all was not well with him. After about six months of dishearten', ing idleness he obtained a position as laboratory instructor in the College of Pharmacy. He worked conscientiously, but his heart was not in the work. To teach boys who had no preliminary edu- cation, many of whom did not know how* to do a simple multiplication or division was very irksome to a man who had been used to teach people with a college educa- 171 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. tion. But he probably would have kept on with his work if not for the severe accident, to which he nearly succumbed. One evening he was walking along 23d street absorbed in thought. This being- absorbed-in-thought while walking the streets of a large city is, by the way, a very bad habit and should not be indulged in. The author once came within a hair's breadth of being crushed, and it reminds me that it cost Prof. Curie, the discov- erer of radium, his life a precious life prematurely crushed out by a stupid Paris express wagon. Yes, one evening he was walking along 23d street. He was about to cross Broadway but he remembered no more. In fact, the next four, five months were almost a perfect blank to him. He was taken to Bellevue, the hos- pital in which people are treated with so much kindness, gentleness and considera- tion, and there he stayed for nearly five months. A depressed fracture of the 172 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. skull, a compound fracture of the tibia and some internal injuries were the prin- cipal results of the too close contact of the heavy express wagon with Dr. Beau- mont's body. One doctor was anxious to amputate his leg, but saner and more con- servative counsel luckily prevailed and his leg was as good as ever, except for an oc- casional twinge. He suffered atrocious pain, and they kept him most of the time under the influence of morphine. And in our city hospitals they are not very stingy with their doses. Cries and groans are not pleasant sounds, and the nurses and orderlies prefer to keep the patients quiet. Anyway, what do those homeless patients, after whom nobody comes to inquire, amount to? Nobody came to inquire after Dr. Beaumont. Or, at least, if any- body did, he didn't know it. When he finally got out of the hospital, he found, to his horror, that he was a morphine fiend. He had to have some of it every day, or 173 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. two or three times a day. He tried to fight against it, but it was in vain. He could partake of no food, felt weak and fainting like, had pains in the head and was utterly unable to sleep, unless he took a grain or so of morphine. He felt he was not morally to blame, but he despised himself for his weakness. He consoled himself, however, with the thought that as he got stronger and the pains in his head disappeared, he would be able to break the habit. But of course it only got a stronger hold on him. The first thing he did on leaving the hospital was to go for his mail. His land- lady, from whom he hired a room, had moved, but after a search of several hours he located her. He was handed five or six letters, which had been received during the first six or seven weeks of his illness. The letters that came after, his landlady told him, were returned to Switzerland, as she did not know whether he would ever 174 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. come back. The tiling that caused him the greatest suffering from the moment he regained consciousness in the hospital was the thought of the terrible anxiety that his poor old mother must have felt at not receiving any letters from him for so long. This suffering became more acute, as he perused the letters, for these letters were not letters: they were a wo- man's anguish cries, they were the f rantic appeals from a breaking heart, they were the agony prayers of a mother to her son to write, to come back, to let her know that he was at least alive. But to all these letters he could send no reply. And when he realized what effect the returned let- ters, with the stamp across, " not found," must have had on his mother, he collapsed. He fainted dead away. He was brought to, and but for the thoughts of his mother, he would have ended it right there and then. So he told me. But the thought of his mother spurred 175 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. him on to activity. Tho his funds were very low, he went at once and sent a long cablegram to his mother, stating that he had been sick, but was now perfectly well and that he was mailing her a letter with all details. He then mailed her a letter, and then another and another. He wanted to compensate her for her suffering. But now his turn came. No letter came in re- ply. He lost his appetite entirely, was unable to sleep, and to keep on his feet at all he had to increase the doses of mor- phine and their frequency. He lost all ambition and became utterly careless of himself. He finally wrote a letter to an official in his native town and received the grewsome news that his mother had died some two months ago. The poor woman could not bear the loss of the son she loved so passionately. The brief official notifica- tion of the death of his mother was re- ceived by Dr t Beaumont on the morning of the day on which this story opens. As 176 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. the full significance of the news became clear to him, he decided to end his life that very day. He had nothing to live for. America had become hateful to him it brought him nothing but suffering and humiliation. To go back to Switzerland his funds were entirely gone ; he had spent his last quarter. And go back for what? His mother gone, his sweetheart lost, the prospects of a University position very poor what will he do in Switzerland? Especially with this terrible morphine habit fastened upon him. No, the best thing, the only thing to do was to make an end of this miserable existence. An- other failure added to this world's num- berless failures, another grave added to the thousands of nameless graves. And Dr. Beaumont confessed to me that the morphine he was asking me for on that bright and sunshiny, but to him dark and gloomy, day was not to appease his mor- phine hunger; it was for the purpose of 177 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. ending his life. The highest single dose he was used to was two grains, and he knew that ten grains taken at once would put him into a sleep from which there is no awakening, would send him to a coun- try from which no one returns. Many weeks later I asked Dr. Beau- mont what made him change his decision. Why, instead of taking the morphine that I gave him all in one dose, he took only a small, to him harmless, quantity. He thought a while and then replied: "It would be hard to say. Your giving me the morphine and your sympathetic look were a balm to my wounded soul. And then I was so ravenously hungry, just at that time, that when you mentioned tak- ing a bite, I simply could not resist the temptation. I thought I could take the balance of the morphine after I had eaten something." I became deeply interested in Dr. Beau- mont. I tried to do all I could for him. 178 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. I was convinced, however, from the start, that the United States was no place for him. With his modesty and shyness, his utter lack of push and bravado, he would have a hard road to hoe. Should he ever reach anything, it would take him ten years to reach the same position that he could reach in his native home in two or three years. Certain people, like certain plants, do not bear transportation to for- eign soil. Despite all endeavors, they never get acclimatized. Dr. Beaumont was such a tender plant. I asked him if he did not think it would be best for him to return to Switzerland, and from his reply I was convinced that that was now his constant dream. He was getting stronger, hope began to spring in his breast, and I noticed that his will-power in fighting the morphine habit was gaining strength. Only some help, some encour- agement, something to make him feel that he still had something to live for, and the 179 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. battle would be won. I decided to take things into my own hands. Without tell-* ing him anything about it, I wrote a let-^ ter to Mile. J., Dr. Beaumont's sweet-" heart, who I knew was still occupying his heart and brain. I wrote her as follows:' " I am Dr. Beaumont's friend. I am '=. the only friend he has in this country. Things have been going badly with him since he came here. And they have been going from bad to worse. He met with a severe accident, which nearly cost him his life and which confined him to 'a hos- pital cot for five months. He is still a very sick and despondent man. Amer- ica is no place for him. The only thing for him to do is to return to his native land, and the sooner, the better. He needs en- couragement can we expect it from you? I write without his knowledge and consent. But I do know, that there is now but one person in the world of whom 180 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. he constantly thinks and for whose wel- 'are he is constantly praying." Thus ran my somewhat childish letter. But in about 18 or perhaps 19 days I re- ceived a note thanking me for my letter and enclosing a letter for Dr. Beaumont. When Dr. Beaumont came that after- noon, I told him rather negligently, that I had a letter for him, tho I did not know if it would interest him. When he saw the address on the envelope, he began to tremble all over and after he glanced thru it rapidly, he, with Gallic effusiveness and sentimentality, fell on my neck, kissed me and then began to sob like a child. I never knew what the letter contained, but from that minute he was infused with new life and ambition. I had also written a letter to Prof. P. merely stating that Dr. Beaumont had been dangerously ill for many months, that his health ,was bad now, that I believed the New York cli- 181 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. mate did not agree with him, and asking if there would be an opening for him iifll the University, if he came back. In due* time a cordial note came from Prof. P. to the effect that Dr. Beaumont could have his old position back whenever he returned. There was another rejoicing. In the excitement of the preparations, in his anticipation of again seeing his be- loved Switzerland and his beloved fiancee, Dr. Beaumont became another man. For three consecutive days he " forgot to think " of his morphine, and when on the fourth day the desire made itself felt, he resolutely combated and overcame it. And I believe I can assert with positive- ness that for the next two weeks, until he embarked for Europe, Dr. Beaumont did not touch the drug. There was some em- barrassment at first as to the wherewithal to buy the steamship ticket, a decent suit of clothes, etc. I decided to advance the money, tho Dr. Beaumont decidedly ob- 182 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. jected to the plan. He thought he had been enough of a burden to me. We were relieved, however, of all further discussion on the subject by the arrival of a draft from Mile. J. for five hundred francs. She wrote with feminine delicacy that in the present state of his health he needed to take particular care of himself, and she begged him to accept the loan of 500 francs, to purchase extra wraps, etc. " God bless that little girl. She guessed that I did not have money for the fare," was the remark Dr. Beaumont made. A week later I saw Dr. Beaumont off for Europe. I was the only one to ac- company him to the steamer. Some three weeks later I got a letter from him in- forming me that he arrived safe and sound, and telling me that his desire for morphine was but slight and that he had no difficulty in overcoming it. He was to receive his appointment in the University 183 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. in a few weeks. I received at the same time a letter from Mile. J. thanking me in most extravagant language for all I did for Dr. B. During the first six months I kept up correspondence with Dr. Beaumont pretty regularly. Then it began to lag. I failed to answer one or two letters, or perhaps I answered them too briefly. I then took up the study of medicine, and when one studies medicine earnestly, he has no time for anything else. For three years I wrote and answered few or no letters. I acknowledged but two com- munications from him the one in which he notified me that Prof. P. died, and that he was appointed in his place to the full professorship, and the invitation to his wedding. For two or three years more we exchanged occasional brief letters and then our correspondence came to an end. I suppose it was principally my fault. I got too many irons in the fire. 184 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. I got too many new interests, I did a lot of studying, reading and traveling, and I had no time to write letters. And so Doctor, now Professor, Beaumont, be- came but a vague, hazy memory. He went out of my life, as many friends do, whom we think we will never forget to the end of our days. Our present hurried and work-yourself-to-death mode of life is not conducive to the old-time life-long friendships. A week ago to-day we went up the Brienzer Rothorn, that magnificent peak which rises 7800 feet above the sea level and the view from which in fine weather may justly be considered one of the finest in the world. As I was enjoying the un- forgettable sight, as the gigantic moun- tain chains, the snow-mantled peaks, the beautiful valleys, and the numerous lakes were coming into view, illumined by the rising sun, I noticed a party of tourists 185 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. with Alpenstocks and knapsacks, clamber- ing up the Rothorn-Kulm. That is not a rarity and I paid no attention to them. I soon became aware, however, that I was the object of stolen glances and animated whisperings. The party consisted, I noticed, of an old gentleman, a middle- aged woman, a young lady and two sturdy boys of about 15 to 17 years of age. I continued to drink in the magnificent scene before me, but I could not help noticing, that whatever the cause might be, I was an object of great interest to the newcomers. Finally, after some evi- dent hesitation, the old gentleman came up to me. "Pardon me for intruding myself upon you. Are you Dr. Robinson? " " Yes." My astonishment was greater than my delight. "Of New York?" "Of New York." " I thought so. I was almost certain. 186 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. And do you know who I am? " he asked with a smile. I scrutinized the kindly face most searchingly> but search my memory as I might, I could get no inkling as to who the old gentleman might be. In fact I was inwardly sure that I had never seen that face before. " I regret to say I do not know to whom I have the honor to speak," I replied. " Then your kindness is greater than your memory. I am Prof. Beaumont." In a flash the incidents of twenty-five years ago came back to me. But I was not surprised at my utter failure to recog- nize my friend. Twenty-five years ago his hair was jet black and he wore no beard. Not when I saw him. He fol- lowed the advice of our noble citizens in futuro, who reminded him frequently that he wore whiskers and long hair, and who insisted that he employ the services of a barber. He did. Now the top of his 187 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. head was bald, his hair in the back was very long and white and he wore a long gray beard. His eyes then had a timid, hunted and bitter expression; now they looked upon the world kindly, confidently and smilingly. No, I am not surprised that I failed to recognize him. It was only after an hour's conversation that I began to see some identity in the features of the Prof. Beaumont of now and of twenty-five years ago. Our delight was mutual and great. We forgot the Engelberg, Appenzell and Bernese Alps that were towering above us; we forgot the pretty Hasli Valley and the beautiful lakes of Brienz, Lucerne, Sarnen, Neu- chatel, etc., etc., that were lying at our feet. We forgot even the magnificent sunrise, which one can only see on the Alps we forgot what we went up the Brienzer Rothorn for, for we had so much to talk about. I was introduced to his wife (who if possible was even more de- 188 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. lighted than her husband to see me) , and to his three children. I was invited to see them at their home. I gladly accepted the invitation and the three days I passed there are among the pleasantest I have ever passed in Switzerland. Prof. Beaumont's position is now abso- lutely secure. His researches in organic chemistry have established him as one of the three greatest authorities in that im- portant branch of science. I was rather surprised at the opulence, nay, even lux- ury of his establishment. Professorships in Europe do not pay so well. I asked him if his position brought him an excep- tionally large income. " No, on a profes- sional salary in Switzerland one can live but very modestly. Here is something that pays better." And he showed me three patents which had been granted him. One was for an improved process for the manufacture of sulphuric acid, one was for a dye for fabrics and the third one, 189 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. I was surprised to learn, was a patent for an organic silver salt, which I had been using in my practice for years. He had sold the patents, but was receiving royal- ties. I told him, laughingly, that I did not know I was enriching him every time I prescribed , but I was glad that such was the case. He said : " Well, you are only doing what you started out to do twenty-five years ago." I said I thought it was best for him never to think of or refer to the past. He answered: "I don't mind it. I have repeatedly spoken of it to Mme. Beaumont. It was the darkest page in my life, but towards the end it became illumined with bright and warm rays. It renewed and strengthened my faith in humanity a faith without which no one can live or work properly." An idea suddenly struck me. " Would you have any objection, Prof. Beaumont, to my writing up and publishing the entire incident?" I asked. 190 PAGE FROM LIFE OF PROFESSOR B. " None whatever," he answered without the slightest hesitation. " On the con- trary, I shall be glad to have you do it. It may do some good. I hope it will." And so, with my impressions freshened by the meeting with Prof. Beaumont, I have written down the little story. With the exception of one detail* I have de- scribed everything just as it occurred, or at least as it appeared in my memory. If there is any moral to be drawn from this story, it is this : Always help a stum- bling brother or sister. And in the book of good deeds the credit given you will be so much the greater, if the stumbling brother or sister happen to be a stranger in your land. I believe that the Bible contains also something to this effect. BRIENZ, SWITZERLAND, AUGUST 16, 1908. 191 WOMAN: HER SEX AND LOVE LIFE FOR MEN AND WOMEN By WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. Illustrated This is one of the most important, most useful books that we have ever brought out. It is not de- voted to abstruse discussions or doubtful theories: it is full of practical information of vital importance to every woman and through her to every man, to every wife and through her to every husband. The simple practical points contained in its pages would render millions of homes happier abodes than they are now; they would prevent the disruption of many a family; they show how to hold the love of a man, how to preserve sexual attraction, how to re- main young beyond the usually allotted age. This book destroys many injurious errors and superstitions and teaches truths that have never been presented in any other book before. In short, this book not only imparts interesting facts; it gives practical points which will make thousands of women, and thousands of men happier, healthier, and more satisfied with life. Certain single chapters or even paragraphs are alone worth the price of the book. You may safely order the book without delay. But if you wish, a complete synopsis of contents will be sent you. Cloth bound. Price $3.00 THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE :: NEW YORK A New Book by Dr. Robinson The Limitation of Offspring by the Prevention of Conception BY WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. With an Introduction by A. JACOBI, M.D., LL.D. Bx-President of The American Medical Association All the arguments for and against the voluntary limitation of offspring or birth control concentrated in one book of 250 pages. The Limitation of Offspring is now the burning question of the day. It has been made so by Dr. William J. Robinson, who was a pioneer in this country to demand that people be permitted to obtain the knowledge how to limit the number of their children, how to prevent con- ception when necessary. For many years he fought practically alone; his propaganda has made hundreds of thousands of converts now the ground is prepared and the people are ready to listen. Written in plain popular language. A book which everybody interested in his own welfare and the welfare of the race should read. PRICE ONE DOLLAR THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK SEXUAL PROBLEMS OF TODAY By WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. Dr. Robinson's work deals with every phase of the sex question, both in its individual and its social as- pects. In this book the scientific knowledge of a physician, eminent as a specialist in everything per- taining to the physiological and medical side of these topics, is combined with the [vigorous social views of a thinker who has radical ideas and is not afraid to give them outspoken expression. A few of the subjects which the author discusses in trenchant fashion are: The Relations Between the Sexes and Man's Inhumanity to Woman. The Influence of Abstinence on Man's Sexual Health and Sexual Power. The Double Standard of Morality and the Effect of Continence on Each Sex. The Limitation of Offspring: the Most Important Immediate Step for the Better- ment of the Human Race, from an Economic and Eugenic Standpoint. What To Do With the Prostitute and How To Abolish Venereal Disease. The Question of Abortion Considered In Its Ethical and Social Aspects. Torturing the Wife When the Husband Is At Fault, Influence of the Prostate on Man's Mental Condition. The Most Efficient Venereal Prophylactics, etc., etc. u SEXUAL PROBLEMS OF TO-DAY " will give most of its readers information they never possessed before and ideas they never had before or if they had, never heard them publicly expressed before.] Cloth-bound, 320 Pages, $2 Postpaid THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE :: NEW A New Book by Dr. Robinson Sex Knowledge for Men. By WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M. D. ILLUSTRATED. An honest, unbiased, truthful, strictly scientific and up-to-date book, dealing with the anatomy and physi- ology of the male sex organs, with the venereal diseases and theu: prevention, and the manifestations of the sex instinct hi boys and men. Absolutely free from any cant, hypocrisy, falsehood, exaggeration, compromise, or any attempt to conciliate the stupid and ignorant. An elementary book written in plain, understandable language, which should be in the possession of every adolescent boy and every parent. Price, cloth bound, $2.00. Sex Knowledge What Every Woman and Girl Should Know A Companion Volume to SEX KNOWLEDGE FOR MEN Price, cloth bound, $1.00. ADDRESS: THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE :: NEW YORK Sex Knowledge for Women and Girls By WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. The first attempt to write a strictly scientific and strictly truthful book for Mothers, Teachers, Nurses and Brides- to-Be. This remarkable book is filled with priceless information for women who wish to help themselves, their daugh- ters and their friends. Everything a woman needs to know about herself and her daughters is set forth clearly and simply in the straight- forward style for which Dr. Robinson is famous. This volume deals with all the sex problems which confront a woman from girlhood to old age. No Mother should permit her daughter to grow into young womanhood and approach mar- riage without the knowledge which this book contains. Handsomely bound in cloth, including all shipping charges, $1.00 per copy THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK A Practical Treatise on the Causes, Symptoms, and Treatment of Sexual Impotence And Other Sexual Disorders in Men and Women BY WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M.D. Chief of the Department of Genito-Urinary Diseases and Dermatology, Bronx Hospital and Dispensary; Editor The American Journal of Urology, Venereal and Sexual Diseases; Editor and Founder of The Critic and Guide; Author of Sexual Problems of Today; Never Told Tales; Practical Eugenics, etc. BEIEF SYNOPSIS OF CONTENTS. Part I Masturbation. Its Prevalence, Causes, Varieties, Symptoms, Results, Prophylaxis and Treatment. Coitus Interruptus and its Effects. Part II Varieties, Causes and Treatment of Pollutions, Spennator- thea. Frost at orrhea and Urethrorrhea. Part IH Sexual impotence in the Male. Every phase of its widely varying causes and treatment, with illuminating case reports. Part IV Sexual Neurasthenia. Causes, Treatment, case reports, and its relation to Impotence. Part V Sterility, Male and Female. Its Causes and Treatment. Part VI Sexual Disorders in Woman, Including Frigidity, Vaginis- mus, Adherent Clitoris, and Injuries to the Female in Coitus. Part VII Priapism. Etiology, Case Reports and Treatment. Part vm Miscellaneous Topics. Including: Is Masturbation a Vice? Two Kinds of Premature Ejaculation. The Frequency of Coitus. "Useless"* 1 Sexual Excitement. The Relation Between Mental and Sexual Activity. Big Families and Sexual Vigor. Sexual Per- versions. Part IX Prescriptions and Minor Points. Third edition revised and enlarged. Cloth bound, 422 pages. Postpaid, $3.00. THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE :: NEW YORK THE DISORDERS OF THE SEXUAL SYSTEM "He who throws light on the dark and intricate problems of sex, helping to unravel the mysteries of and to cure the complex sexual disorders, does indeed a signal service to humanity." We believe that in bringing out our latest work, Sexual Impotence and Other Sexual Disorders in Men and Women, we have given the profession one of the most useful, one of the most valuable books that have ever been published. A gratifyingly large num- ber of physicians have told us that the book not only helped them, to treat successfully sexual weakness and other disorders in their patients or in themselves, but that it opened their eyes to the significance of many things which they did not understand before. Those who have read the book know its value and importance ; those who have not may be interested to read what the medical journals have to say about it. Here are a few extracts: No American authority has given more serious thought to the subject of sexual diseases than the author of this volume; he has given to us in it the best that in him lies. No physician who has had to combat this distressing condi- tion, and those conditions dependent upon it, has any doubt of its serious importance. And we all recognize the weak- ness of the literature on the subject. Dr. Robinson takes SEXUAL IMPOTENCE a sensible view of things which have not been sensibly con- sidered; nowhere has he shown this to better advantage than in this volume on a difficult subject. Medical Fortnightly. Dr. Robinson discusses the numerous phases of this sub- ject, in both sexes, clearly and in detail. He tells no lies to conform to moral, social and religious ideals, and con- sequently those who differ with him in beliefs or in pre- tensions may censure him as immoral. In some of these points there is opportunity for difference of opinion, but on the whole we think that Dr. Robinson has expressed what the majority of physicians believe, tho not necessarily the opinion most frequently published. Pretty nearly every conceivable sexual abnormality, physical or psychic is at least alluded to. If we were to select any one feature of this work for special mention, it would be the uniform common sense of the author. Buffalo Medical Journal. This book is not by any means a rehash of some other book or a resume of several. This treatise is interesting and valuable, and the author is absolutely honest and fear- less in his opinions. A unique and helpful feature is the case reports which illustrate every phase of sexual dis- order. Indianapolis Medical Journal. Dr. Robinson deals with the subject in a dignified, scien- tific way, that will be helpful to the physician who has judgment enough to realize that he is as responsible for functions around which a modern, sham, conventional modesty has thrown a hiatus of folly as he is for the ap- petite, eliminative powers or nutritive functions of the same persons. And the science of eugenics can never be worthy of medical consideration until the people are taught that it is as much the duty and ousinesg of physicians to in- quire about the sexual habits of patients as of their habits of eating and drinking. This book will do much good, and that good will be as extensive as its reading. Texas State Journal of Medicine. / consider myself extremely fortunate in having been instru- mental in making this remarkable book accessible to the English reading public. It is a great book well worth a careful perusal. From Dr.William J. Robinson's Introduction. The Sexual Crisis A CRITIQUE OF OUR SEX LIFE A Psychologic and Sociologic Study By CRETE MEISEL-HESS *** AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION BY EDEN AND CEDAR PAUL EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION By WILLIAM J. ROBINSON, M. D. One of the greatest of all books on the sex question that have appeared in the Twentieth Century. It is a book that no educated man or woman, lay or professional, interested in sexual ethics, in our marriage system, in free motherhood, hi trial marriages, hi the question of sexual abstinence, etc., etc., can afford to leave unread. Nobody who discusses, writes or lectures on any phases of the sex question, has a right to overlook this remarkable volume. Written with a wonderfully keen analysis of the conditions which are bringing about a sexual crisis, the book abounds in gems of thought and in pearls of style on every page. It must be read to be appreciated. A Complete Synopsis of Contents Will Be Sent on Request 350 PAGES. PRICE $3.00 THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE :: NEW YORK A UNIQUE JOURNAL THE CRITIC AND GUIDE Dr. Robinson's Famous Little Monthly It is the most original journal in the country. It is the only one of its kind, and is interesting from cover to. cover. There is no routine, dead matter in it. It is one of the very few journals that is opened with anticipation just as soon as it is received and of which every line is read with real interest. Not only are the special problems of the medical profession itself dealt with in a vigorous and progressive spirit, but the larger, social aspects of medicine and physiology are discussed in a fearless and radical manner. Many problems untouched by other publications, such as the sex question in all its varied phases, the economic causes of disease and other problems in medical sociology, are treated boldly and freely from the standpoint of modern science. In discussing questions which are considered taboo by the hyper-conservative, the editor says what he wants to say very plainly without regard for Mrs. Grundy. THE CRITIC AND GUIDE was a pioneer in the propaganda for birth control, venereal prophylaxis, sex education of the young, and free discussion of sexual problems in general. It contains more interesting and outspoken matter on these subjects than any other journal. While of great value to the practitioner for therapeutic sugges- tions of a practical, up-to-date and definite character, its editorials and special articles are what make THE CRITIC AND GUIDE unique among journals, read eagerly alike by the medical profession and the intelligent laity. PUBLISHED MONTHLY ONE DOLLAR A YEAR THE RACE BETTERMENT LEAGUE 263 FIFTH AVENUE NEW YORK A 000022205