trousers for several months. I entered a private day-school and
progressed brilliantly in my studies. I kept up masturbation
almost daily, sometimes twice a day, both in the water closet and
in bed. I can remember ejaculating before urination in the school
_cabinet_. At night I often found myself longing for the return
of my sister, seven years my junior, in order that I might
embrace her in bed and fondle her genitals. I had done these
things during my Christmas vacation of the year before. I mildly
reproached myself for such incestuous desires, but they recurred
continually. I dreamed little. And I cannot remember the
character of my dreams. My waking _libido_ spent itself mostly in
longings to embrace (without lustful acts) the forms of little
boys of exquisite blonde beauty and thick hair. Narcissism may
have been present, for in my twelfth year I had been told that at
the age of 5 and 6 I was an extraordinarily beautiful little
creature with long, lint-white hair. The preferable age was from
6 to 9. My eye was alert on the streets for boys answering to
this description, and a street boy with long, white hair so won
my passion that I followed him to his home and asked his mother
if he might call on me and "play some games." As I did not even
know the boy's name and had never seen him before, I was
wonderingly refused. I sought in vain to find the whereabouts of
another long-haired street boy whom I burned to embrace and load
with benefits. I had a boundless desire for such a boy as this to
idolize me--to look into my face out of big eyes and lose himself
in love for me--to call me by endearing pet names--of his own
accord to throw his arms around my neck. This second actual boy
disappeared from my horizon by presumably moving away from the
vast city neighborhood. I took a fancy to a small boy at school,
who possessed the requisite delicacy, timidity, and sweetness, if
not the physical requisites, of my beau ideal. I walked with him
in the park and planned to have him at the house; but the matter
was not arranged. At boarding-school I had associated much with
younger and weaker boys, and had been ridiculed much for my
cowardice in sports, but at the city school I moved with my
equals and won their recognition. Our gymnasium director was
middle-aged and of an indolent disposition. He liked to recall
his youthful erections and to answer my sexual queries too fully,
and cheerfully volunteered information on brothels. Yet I doubt
whether he had an evil purpose in conversing with me. I thought I
should never dare or want to enter one. I always conjured up the
picture of a row of naked women from whom I could take my pick,
and the smell of the women I imagined to be identical with the
smell of my big friend A. at boarding-school. When I was
traveling down town on an elevated train one afternoon the
brakeman asked me whether I had ever been in a brothel, and told
me that disorderly houses abounded in my neighborhood. "I have
had connection with women," said this red-haired young man,
waving his hand in greeting to a woman who nodded at him from a
window, "since I was 15 years old. Not long ago a fine-looking,
young woman in black offered to pay all my expenses if I would
live with her and connect with her."
When a girl of perhaps 7, a distant cousin of mine, visited us
for a few days, I gratified my lust by placing my hand under her
genitals and swinging her to and fro. She giggled with pleasure.
That summer I began to experience the evil effects of the
masturbation which I had practiced daily for a year and a half.
Pimples began to break out on my chin (my complexion up to this
time had been white and delicate). The family ascribed my
condition to digestive difficulties. In playing with the boys and
girls I found myself seized with a terrible shyness and a
tendency to look down and weep. I had lost all the courage I
had--it had never been great--in the presence of a crowd of
children. I was fairly at ease with a single companion. My
self-consciousness was something more painful to me than I can
convey in words. At home I wept in my room and cursed myself for
a baby. I little realized the cause of my nervous collapse. Yet I
had too robust a frame not to be able to sleep and to play hard.
The sympathetic pleasure which I had found in swinging my
girl-cousin to and fro I now doubled by letting a 7-year-old boy
ride cock-horse on my feet. I experienced an erection during the
process, and I almost induced ejaculation when I tickled the boy
with my feet in the region of his genitals. To see his shrinking,
giggling joy gave me an exquisite sexual thrill. I longed to
sleep with the boy, but I was afraid of causing comment. At the
new and large boarding school which I entered in the fall my most
lustful dreams and ejaculations were concerned with standing this
little boy on the footboard of a bed, taking down his
knickerbockers, and performing _fellatio_ on him. But I dreamed
also of natural coitus. I fell in love with the handsome,
12-year-old son of the aged headmaster. The boy, O., sat next me
at the table, and I never tired of gazing at him. It gave me a
special sense of pleasure to look at him when he wore a certain
flowing, scarlet, four-in-hand necktie. But O. was not attracted
to me--for one thing I was in a disagreeably pimpled
condition--and I could not induce him to linger in my room nor to
sleep with me. My passion for O. did not diminish, and it rose to
its supremacy on the evening when he appeared in our hallway (he
roomed on the girls' side of the house and hinted at the sexual
sights that he saw) in a costume of white satin, lace, and wings.
He was ready for a costume party.
I now masturbated less frequently, for I was beginning to
appreciate the horrible consequences of my indulgence. I had
frequent pollutions, with dreams. My day was one long agony of
fear. How I dreaded to go to sleep in the same bed with my older
chum, who never made any advances beyond embracing me passively
_cum erectione_ while he was asleep. My day was one long agony of
fear. At meal time my feet constantly writhed in agony for fear
that the headmaster's grown up young ladies should make fun of
me, or that my lack of facial composure and my inability to look
people in the eye might be commented upon. I tingled with
apprehension, especially in the region of my stomach. Every nerve
was taut in the effort I made to appear composed. I masturbated
with erections over nothing. Greek recitations were for me an
_auto da fe_. My heart beat like a trip-hammer at the thought of
getting up to recite, and once on my feet my voice shook and my
mind wandered. I hated the thought of people behind me looking at
me. I rarely summoned the courage to turn my head either one way
or the other. I vastly admired the "bravery" of the small,
15-year-old boy who recited so calmly and so well. I was too
cowardly to play foot-ball and base-ball, and I dreaded even my
favorite tennis because the spectators put me in a state of
scared self-consciousness. Knowing my own condition, I was yet so
blind to it most of the time, and such a Jekyll-and-Hyde, that I
actually pitied a boy of 19 who was an eccentric and a scared
victim of masturbation. But in spite of my neuropathic condition
I developed intellectually. I do not touch upon this aspect of my
life, however, because I am trying to limit myself strictly to
sexual manifestations. At the present time I have not the courage
to continue the narrative.
HISTORY III.--The following narrative is written by a clergyman,
age 40, unmarried:--
My childhood and early boyhood were unmarked by sexual phenomena,
beyond occasional erections, which commenced when about 5 years
of age, without any exciting causes. These were accompanied by
some degree of excitement, of the same nature as that which I
experienced in later years. I was absolutely ignorant of sexual
matters, but always had an idea that the essential difference
between man and woman was to be found in the genital organs. This
was sometimes a matter for thought and curiosity.
Being for many years an only child I saw little of other
children, and formed the habit of amusing myself with making
things--boats, houses, etc.--and acquired a taste for science.
When I could read I preferred biography, history, and poetry to
anything else.
When I was 13 years old and at a large school I heard for the
first time of coitus, but very imperfectly. For a few days it
filled my thoughts and mind, but feeling it was too engrossing a
subject and one which took me off better things, I put it out of
my mind. Later, another boy gave me a fuller description of the
matter, and I began to have a great desire to know more and to be
old enough to practice it. I also discovered that boys
masturbated, and about a year after tried the experiment for
myself. This vice was largely indulged in by my school-fellows.
It never occurred to me that it was sinful, until I was nearly
16, when I came across a passage in Kenns's _Manual of
Schoolboys_, in which it was hinted such things were wrong
morally and spiritually. Previously I had felt it was an
indelicate and shameful thing, and bad for health. This last idea
was held as a solemn fact by all my boy friends. Gradually
religion began to exert an influence over my sexual nature,
obtaining as years passed a greater and greater restraining
power. It is simply impossible for me to write a history of my
sexual development without also describing the action which
Christianity has had in determining its growth. The two have been
so intimately bound together that my life history would not be a
faithful record of facts if I left religion out of it.
At school I took part, with great keenness, in cricket and
foot-ball, and was very ambitious to excel in everything in which
I took an interest, but I always had other tastes as well, which
were more precious to me, for example, the love for science,
history, and poetry. Until I was past 16 years my desire was
simply for coitus, girls and women attracted me only as affording
the means of gratifying this desire; but when I was nearly 17 I
began to regard girls as beautiful objects, apart from this, and
to desire their love and companionship. At the same time it
dawned upon me that life held much of joy in the love of women
and in domestic life--so henceforth I regarded them in a higher
and purer light, and apart from sexual gratification. In fact,
from this period till I was over 20, this idea so dominated my
whole being that the lower side of my nature was entirely held in
subjection and abeyance by it. It was rather repulsive to think
of girls as objects of lust. This state of mind was not brought
about by any romantic attachment or through any acquaintance or
through circumstances. I was living in great seclusion and had no
girl friends. After this period the lower side of my nature woke
up as a giant refreshed with wine, and I underwent for many years
a constant struggle with my nature, in which religion always
triumphed in the end. I never fell into fornication, though
sometimes into the vice of masturbation. These outbursts of
desire were periodic, about ten or fourteen days apart, and would
last several days. I must record also the fact that from the time
this awakening took place my ideal views of woman no longer
seemed incompatible with sexual relations. I noticed that at
about 27 there was a lessening of the desire, but that may have
been due to overwork and consequent nervous exhaustion. I had a
good deal of worry and studied daily for about eight hours. In
any case the impulse was strongest during the years above
mentioned. A little later in life, for a time, I became attached
to a girl, and eventually engaged. I then observed, greatly to my
sorrow and annoyance, that whenever I met this lady, or even
thought of her, erections took place. This was particularly
painful to me, as my thoughts were not of a lustful or impure
character. Sometimes sitting by her at a religious service this
would occur, when certainly my mind was far away from anything of
the kind. That was the first woman ever kissed by me, except of
course members of my immediate family circle. Later on my
thoughts turned to marriage, and there was a great longing at
times for this event to take place. However, as this attachment
afterward became the great sorrow of my life for years, it needs
no more comment. This closes one chapter of my history, and at
present I do not propose to add another, as in a great measure it
is only partly written. It may be well here to state that there
has never been in me the slightest homosexual desire; in fact it
has always appeared as a thing utterly inconceivable and
disgustingly loathsome. I am fond of the society of both men and
women, but on the whole prefer the latter. I have had several
warm and intimate though platonic friendships, and get on
exceedingly well with the other sex, although not a good-looking
man. I have always been attracted to women by their spiritual or
mental qualities, rather than by physical beauty, and feel
strongly that the latter alone would never cause me to desire
coitus. Unless there was an attraction other than that of the
flesh, I should feel that I was following simply a brute
instinct, and it would jar with my higher nature and cause
revulsion. This was not the case in my earlier years to the same
extent. I have often wondered whether the sexual impulse was
strong in me or not, but if not, there is nothing in my physical
state or family history to account for it. I am fairly cognizant
with the lives of my ancestors, being descended from two old
families. The sexual instinct was certainly not weak or abnormal
in them. Personally, I am tall and healthy, well built, but
sensitive and highly strung. Smell has never played any part in
my life as a stimulant of sexual desire, and the mere thought of
body odors would have a very decided effect in the opposite
direction. Touch and sight appeal to me strongly, and of the two
the former most.
I am convinced, after many years careful thought, that sexual
vice and perversion could be greatly reduced if the young were
instructed in the elements of physiology as they bear on this
question. Personally, had I been thus enlightened much sin would
have been avoided in my schoolboy days, and a perverted view of
sexual matters would never have arisen in my mind. It took years
to overcome the feeling that all such things were unclean and
defiling. Eventually light came to me through reading a passage
in a tractate on the Creed by Rufinus. He was defending the
doctrine, of the Incarnation against the pagan objection that it
was an unclean and disgusting idea that God should enter the
world through the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and he meets
it by showing that God created the sexual organs, therefore the
objection is invalid--otherwise God would not be clean or pure,
having Himself designed them and their functions. This passage is
slight in itself, but gave birth to a line of thought which has
influenced me profoundly. I no longer regard sexual matters as
disgusting and unholy, but as intensely sacred, being the outcome
of the Divine Mind. Further, the Incarnation of the Saviour has
not only sanctioned motherhood and all that is implied by it, but
has eternally sanctified it as the means chosen for the
manifestation of God to the world. I should not obtrude my
theological conceptions, but for the fact that they have
determined my life-history in that aspect.
HISTORY IV.--When I was 9 years old a boy at the preparatory
school, which I attended, showed me the act of masturbation,
which he said he had practiced for a long time, and which he
urged me to imitate, if I wished to become a father when I grew
up, and married! Boy-like I believed him and tried, but the
sensation obtained was not a pleasant one (I suppose that I was
too rough with myself) and I desisted.
When I was about 12 years old, a schoolfellow told me that he had
seen his nurse copulating with the groom, and he and I used to
haunt the woods in the hope that we might see an amorous couple
so engaged, but without success. We often talked of the act, as
to how it was done. Neither he nor I had any clear ideas on the
subject, save as to the organs involved. I was about 15 when a
maidservant of the house in which I was a boarder, came to my
bedroom one night and taught me how to masturbate her. She said
that this was a good thing for me to do, and warned me never to
"play with myself" as it would kill me, or drive me mad. I told
her that I had tried it, but could not bring on a pleasurable
feeling, so she did it to me, and although I did not have an
emission, I derived great pleasure from the act. She told me that
it never did a boy any harm to let a girl play with his parts,
and promised that if I would keep the secret, she would often do
this for me. Naturally I promised to say nothing, and she often
came up to my room. Later on she used to insert my penis into her
vulva, while she was rubbing it, at the same time giving me a
pigeon kiss. This _modus operandi_ was much appreciated by me.
One night, after we had been together thus, I dreamt of her and
her maneuvers and had my first emission. I was very proud of
this, as I considered that I had at last attained to man's
estate, and told her of it. She never allowed me to insert my
penis into her vulva after that, alleging that she did not want
to have a baby.
I was about 16½ years old when I had my first real coitus, my
partner in the act being a girl some two years older than I, who
lived near us. I enjoyed the act very much, as she permitted, nay
insisted on, emission _intra vaginam_, and told her that this was
much nicer than my amours with the maidservant which of course I
had confided to her. She laughed, and said: "Of course." We often
copulated, as long as I was at home, and then I lost sight of
her. Of all the women with whom I have had to do, save one, she
had the most copious secretion of mucus, which in those days I
believed was the woman's semen. Her thighs used to be wet with
it.
At the University I had regular relations with women of all
sorts, rarely missing a week. Two of them were married women, one
the wife of a solicitor, the other of a doctor. How proud I felt
of my first intrigue with a married woman! I felt that I was
really a man of the world now!
But though my friends used to tell me all about their love
affairs, and I longed to confide in them, I did not do so. This
was because when I went up to the University, my uncle said that
he would give me a word of advice and hoped that I would follow
it--never to give away a woman, and never to refuse to respond to
a woman's advances, whoever she were. To neglect this advice
would, he said, be foolish, and to break the rules "damned
ungentlemanly." I wish I had always followed advice proffered, as
closely as I have followed this. One night, when I was somewhat
disguised in liquor, as our grandfathers would have put it, I
picked up a girl, who was a private prostitute, if the phrase be
permissible. She declined copulation, and proposed other means of
satisfaction. I insisted, being stubborn in my cups. Had I been
sober I should have done as she suggested, for I have always made
it a point to allow the woman to choose the method of
gratification, and not to demand, or even suggest, anything
myself. I like to please women, and I have always been curious as
to their wants and desires, as revealed, without outside
influence, by themselves. The result of my refusing all methods
of gratification save the most ordinary was that the girl, who
must have known that she was not all right, but shrank from
saying so in so many words, gave me a gonorrhoea, which lasted
nine weeks and much interfered with my amours, as I naturally
declined to run the risk of infecting my partner, a risk which to
my certain knowledge many a young fellow has run, with disastrous
consequence to the confiding woman. As it was due to my tipsy
obstinacy, I could not blame the girl, but resolved never to
drink too much again, a resolve which I have kept, save once,
unbroken. In those days we youngsters thought that it was manly
to be able to carry one's liquor well, and did all in our power
to attain to the seasoned head; but I considered that the risks
entailed were too serious to be neglected.
I was well on in my 26th year when I met a widow with whom I fell
in love, with the result that I married her. She is a most
sensible woman, and it was her intellectual gifts which were the
attraction to me. In my amours intellect has never played a part.
She has all along been cognizant of, and lenient to, my
polygamous tendencies; for she recognizes the fact that whatever
_fredaine_ I may have on hand makes not the slightest difference
in my love and respect for her. Were she a more sensual woman,
perhaps things would be different.
In all I have had to do with 81 other women, of whose special
characteristics I kept a careful note at the time. Twenty-six
were normal women with whom my _liasons_ have lasted long, so I
know more about them than I do about the other fifty-five, who
were prostitutes, and with some of whom my dealings were but for
an afternoon.
The races represented have been these, for I have seen a bit of
the world: English, Scotch, Irish, Welsh, French, German,
Italian, Greek, Danish, Hungarian, Roumanian, Indian, and
Japanese. Taking them all round, the only difference that I found
between old and young women is that the older ones are less
selfish, and more complaisant, and less inclined to resent one's
being unable to attain to the height of their desire, for from
time to time I have been unable to "come up to the scratch" after
a heavy night's labor, or when I was afraid of being caught in
the act of coition, a fear which, in my experience, acts as a
stimulus to desire in women, unlike its action in men. Of all the
women with whom I have had to do the nicest in every way have
been the French women. The English women of the town drink too
much, and are far too keen on getting as much money as they can
for as little as they can, to please me. Were the London girls to
recognize that men do not like a tipsy woman, and that where
there is so much competition the person who is most skillful and
most polite gets the most custom, the alien invasion in Regent
street would soon come to an end.
Of the fifty-five prostitutes: eighteen informed me that they
were in the habit of masturbating; eight of their own free will,
without asking for reward, did _fellatio_; six asked me to do
_cunnilingus_, which I naturally declined to do; three proposed
anal coitus. Of those who did _fellatio_, two (one French and one
German) told me that they had taken to it because they had heard
that human semen was an excellent remedy against consumption,
which disease had carried off some of their relatives, and that
they had gradually come to like doing it. All who told me that
they masturbated, asked me whether I did so too, and two desired
me to show them the act, one alleging that she liked to see a man
do it; she had been married late in life, after a "stormy youth"
and had had, she said, a large experience of the male sex. They
all seemed to think that however much the practice of
self-excitement might hurt a man, and all thought that it would
hurt him, a woman might masturbate as often as she liked, failing
better means of satisfaction, as she had no such loss of
substance as a man.
Of the twenty-six normal women, whom I knew more intimately than
I did the fifty-five prostitutes, thirteen, without being
questioned by me, blurted out the fact that they were habitual
masturbators, apparently all required to think of the loved
person to obtain full satisfaction. _Fellatio_ was proposed, and
fully performed, by nine, of whom three experienced the orgasm as
soon as they perceived that I had attained to it. All were more
or less excited while doing it. One proposed anal coitus, "just
to see what it was like;" and three proposed _cunnilingus_, one
having been initiated by a girl friend, and one by her husband.
The third had, I believe, evolved the act out of her own inner
consciousness in her desire to experience pleasure with me. My
relations with one of the twenty-six were confined to my
masturbation of her, the while she did _fellatio_, as she said
that she "had no feeling inside down there."
With two exceptions my partings from these normal women have not
been tragic and all whom I have met in after life (seven) have
been very ready to resume relations with me, four of them having
made the proposal themselves.
One thing has struck me, and that is the, often great, difference
that exists between what a woman's looks lead one to think she
is, and what she is when one becomes her lover; the most sensual
woman that I have met might have sat for her portrait as the
Madonna, and she was the only one who took pleasure in hearing
and relating "smoking-room stories," a form of amusement which,
perhaps from their want of appreciation of humor and wit, women
do not indulge in--at least in my experience.
HISTORY V.--(A continuation of History III in Appendix B to the
previous volume.)
As I became better I commenced to dream of true love. I wondered,
too, if my horrible past really could be lived down and a young
woman come to love _me_. I took pleasure in reading love poems,
especially Browning's, and illustrated some with little
water-colors....
I was sitting in the stalls one night seeing a performance by a
company of English actors when one of them played so badly that I
thought to myself: "Why, hang it, I could play it better myself!"
The next minute another thought followed: "Why not try?" I came
out of the stalls the proverbial stage-struck youth. I was
sitting in the same place another night when the young man next
to me entered into conversation. By a strange coincidence he knew
a few young men, amateurs, who were going to form a company, give
up their situations and travel, if they could induce a few more
to join them and put a little money in. I made an appointment for
the following evening....
There were lots of meetings in bedrooms and rehearsals between
the beds, but ultimately I was told a school-room had been
engaged and a professional actress, A.F. I went to the
school-room and found all the boys there, and a young woman with
a pale, rice-powder complexion. On introduction she gazed at me
as if struck dumb. If she had been better-looking (I thought her
vulgar and puffy) I would have been flattered. I was
disappointed, but rather frightened (she had a stage presence) of
her professional ability, especially when we commenced to
rehearse. I had to make love to her, too, which embarrassed me.
She had a good profile, I noticed, and would have been better
looking, I thought, if she were in better condition, for she was
young, about my own age, twenty-three or four. We were all
young--enjoyed our rehearsals, and had lots of fun--but I did not
respond to the advances A. was evidently making to me. Finally we
started on our tour. As the weeks went on A.F., like the others,
improved wonderfully in health and appearance. If we had had
anything like houses it would have been a pleasant trip. My
strangeness did not escape the notice of the boys altogether, for
I was still a bit strange in mind and nerves--and deeply
religious, bowing my head before each meal and reading my little
Bible and prayer-book at odd times. I drank no alcohol. I spent a
good deal of time by myself of with my faithful companion A., who
was nearly always at my side, she and her appealing eyes. I was
surprised to see how quickly she had improved; she looked quite
attractive and ladylike some evenings at meals, but I only
tolerated her. I was selfish and conceited.
Things had been going on like this for a week--always playing to
empty houses and our money lower and lower--when A. said to our
other lady, Mrs. T., on a train in my presence: "I shall have to
give him up, I suppose; he will have nothing to do with me." Mrs.
T. said: "You give him up, do you?" and looked at me as if she
were going to try her hand. A. said "Yes," and looked at me,
smiling sadly. I don't know what motive prompted me--whether my
vanity was alarmed at her threatened desertion or that she had
really made some impression on me by her love, probably a little
of both--but I said: "No, don't; come and sit down here," making
way for her, and she joyfully came and nestled against me. From
that time I ceased to treat her with ridicule, and kissed her at
other times than when on the stage. I was subject still to black
moods, and would not speak to her for hours sometimes, but she
seemed content to walk with me and was infinitely patient. I had
heard she was living with--if not married to--an actor. I asked
her about him once, and she said she did not love him; she loved
me and had never loved before. Her face had a touching sadness;
her life had been unhappy and stormy, with no love and little
rest in it. Her face, when she had lost her dissipated look and
unhealthy pallor, was exquisite, delicate as a cameo. Love had
improved her manners, too; she was more gentle and refined. I let
things drift without thinking of the future, when one night
after the performance--I was lying on the sofa and A. was sitting
at my side, as usual--I suddenly thought, with the brutality that
characterized me in these matters--"I will ask her to let me
sleep with her." I still fought against any premonitory thought
of self-abuse, but here, I thought to myself, is a chance of
something better that will do me no harm and perhaps good. When
she understood me she turned very red and walked away, shaking
her head. But I let her understand that was the only way of
retaining me, and finally, when they had all gone to bed, she
gave herself to me, reluctantly and sadly; for she, too, had been
drifting on without thinking of anything of this sort (she hated
it at this time), but just living for her love of me, her first
true love.
Before this occurred, I must tell you, I had been so much better
that I sometimes felt capable of doing anything, a sense of power
and grasp of intellect which was combined with delicacy of
feeling and sensitiveness to beauty, to skies and clouds and
flowers. I seemed to be awakening to true manhood, to my true
self. And at meals, it is worth recording, I commenced to have a
distaste for meat.
These glimpses of a better state of things left me on cohabiting
with A., and for a time my gloom and black religious mania came
on me once more. I now thought of my promise at confirmation, and
it seemed to me I had offended beyond pardon. When we came to the
next town, however, I openly slept with A. all night, leaving my
own bed untouched. When we returned to Adelaide one of our party
remarked: "The only man who had any success with the women on the
tour was a Bible-reading, praying, and good, pious, confirmed
Christian."
A.'s nascent beauty and delicacy and improvement were gradually
impaired, too. My own conduct became so morose at times that,
besides increasing her misery, I offended the others, and
bickerings ensued. I heard the other actress say "He's mad; that
what's the matter." And I was so wrapped up in myself and my
religious mania that I did not mind their thinking so.
After the tour was over A. asked me to come and see her at her
home, and as I missed her very much I went one night to tea. She
had a room in her father's house to herself. A. was dressed in
her best and we had an affectionate meeting. After tea I asked
her if she were married to E. She said "No." Then I said: "Who
are you married to?" She commenced to cry then, and told me
something of her life, the saddest I ever heard. When only 17 she
had been courted by a young man she did not care for, but who
prevailed on her parents by pretending he had seduced her, but
wished to marry her. Strange as it may seem, A. did not know what
marriage meant, her mother being one of those silly women who
don't like talking of these things and let their daughters grow
up in ignorance, expecting they will learn from some one. In nine
cases out of ten this happens, but A. was an exception. It was
this, and the fact that she had not a particle of love for her
husband, that gave her such a hatred of coition. When her mother
saw the sheets the morning after the marriage she burst out
crying; she did not like the young man and saw she had been
deceived.
A.'s husband soon showed his true character; he was in reality a
gaol-bird. He beat her, drank, and even wanted her to go on the
streets to earn money for him. She left him and went home; it was
then she began her theatrical career by entering the ballet. At
intervals her husband, drunk and desperate, would waylay and
threaten her in the street. One day after a rehearsal he
attempted to stab her. She got on in spite of all, being a born
actress, and played small parts in traveling companies. Then E.,
who had also gone on the stage, courted her and she listened to
him, not because she cared for him, but he protected her and
offered her a home. She joined him; but his drunkenness and
sensuality were so gross that he ruined his health and he
attempted to maltreat A. in a nameless way. And whenever she was
in the family way he would leave her alone and half-conscious in
the cellar for days. To add to her misery she had epileptic fits.
Then sometimes they would be out of an engagement and starving.
They had been so hungry as to steal raw potatoes out of a sack
and eat them thus, having no fire. She would often have had
engagements, but E. was jealous and would not let her act without
him. And he beat her as her husband had done, and her health
became undermined. It was just after one of the forced
miscarriages that she joined our traveling company, and that
accounted for her yellow and puffy appearance. E. was now away
up-country with a circus, but was expected down any time. A. told
me a good deal of all this, between her tears, while sitting at
my feet, and her tone carried conviction. When I ought to have
gone home I persuaded her to let me stay all night. We had been
in bed some time when her mother knocked at the door and wanted
to come in for something in a chest of drawers there. "Why don't
you open the door, A.? Who have you got there? Hasn't that fellow
gone?" A. was confused and told me to get under the bed, but I
refused, and she covered me up with the bed clothes as well as
she could and opened the door. She had hid my clothes, but missed
one of my shoes, and her mother saw it. "Oh, A.," was all she
said; "you've got that fellow in bed," and went out crying.
"Well, Fred" (my stage name), "you've got me into a nice row," A.
said. She gave me my breakfast in the morning and I walked out of
the front door without being molested. Another night I entered
her window by a ladder and stayed all night. In the middle of the
night E. came home drunk. She would not let him in and told him
she would have nothing more to do with him. He attempted to break
in the door, when A. called to me, and hearing a man in the room
he went away, saying, as he went downstairs: "Oh, A.! Oh, A.!"
as if he thought she would not have done such a thing. He never
molested us after that night.
I think it was my intention, at first, to break off with A.
gradually. I found, however, I could not keep away from her, and
it commenced to be evident to me that a bachelor's life in
lodgings again would be dreary and lonely. And all this time the
fear that I had offended God troubled me more than I have said,
and it occurred to me (there may have been a touch of sophistry
in this, or not) that if I were a true husband to her for the
future--stuck to her and worked for her for the rest of my
days--perhaps it would find favor in God's sight and be an
atonement for my sin. Had she been free I would have married her,
I believe. But she began to be harassed by her mother and
bothered about my incessantly coming there and staying all night.
It ended in my telling her I would be a husband to her, and she
came and lived with me at my lodgings. We had one room and our
meals cost us sixpence each. Cheap as it was, it was a struggle
for me to earn money at all. I remember feeling ill and anxious
once, and sustaining myself by the thought of my father wheeling
the heavy truck up the street when he married my mother. And I
decided to wheel my truck, too.
A. seemed happy and her love increased, if possible; at first,
though, she must have found me a trying lover, for I made her
kneel and pray with me two or three times a day, which she did
with such a queer expression of face. Sometimes her feelings got
the better of her, and she would say: "Oh, damn it, Fred, you are
always praying." And then I would be shocked and she would be
sorry.... Coitus was frequent; she commenced to like it now....
A. was not looking well one evening when she came in, and lay
down on the bed. Presently she commenced to make a strange noise,
and I saw her eyes were closed and her hands clenched. "Ah," said
the landlady, who came in to help me; "she has epileptic fits."
When her convulsions were over she looked blankly at us, knitting
her brows and evidently puzzling her poor brain to remember who
we were. For many years it was my fate to see her looking at me
thus, at first stony and estranged, like a dweller in another
star, then half-recalling with extended hand, then forgetting
again with hand to mouth, then the gradual dawn of memory and
love, and final full recognition. "It's Fred, my Fred!" I never
got used to it; it always moved me to tears.... It was not to be
thought that we had no quarrels. I still had fits of bad temper,
and sometimes they came into collision with A.'s temper. It hurt
my vanity considerably to see how soon she relinquished the
respectful, patient, spaniel-bearing she had when we were
traveling. I said some cruel things to her and she retorted. One
would have thought, to hear us, that all affection was over. But
when the mood of rage wore itself out we would both be sorry and
make it up with tears, and be very happy in spite of our poverty.
I think it was lust that prevented me from striving to fulfill my
ambitions. A. let me do anything I liked, at all times of day or
night, although she seemed surprised at my proceedings sometimes,
for it was becoming a fever of lubricity with me. She still
thought only of her love. I remember her coming in one day,
tired, pale, perspiring, and worried--we had hardly anything in
the house and she had been to the theater ineffectually--and when
her eyes lighted on me the whole expression of her face changed,
softened and brightened at once, and she came and kissed me and
said: "It is so strange, I was thinking all sorts of nasty things
coming along, but as soon as I see my pet's face I feel happy--I
don't care for anything--I would sooner share a crust with him
than have all the money in the world!"
I commenced to feel libidinous curiosity to examine her--this was
mostly on Sundays--and she let me, blushing at first, but
laughing. Then I would try new positions in coitus I had heard
of. Still she did not enter into my mood.
She was engaged at this time to play in a pantomime and I
commenced to lead a miserable, jealous existence. I heard scandal
about her, baseless enough, but in the diseased, nervous, anxious
state I had brought myself to it nearly drove me mad. I would go
with her sometimes to visit her mother, whom I began to like. Her
brother I still saluted coldly. It caused me horror and jealousy
to see A. kissing him and letting him tickle her. In my rage,
when we came home, I even said that perhaps she would let him do
something else, naming it brutally and coarsely. I remember her
shame, astonishment, indignation and tears. If ever a man tried a
woman's love I did. But she forgave me, even that.
We went to live in a little cottage. It was in this cottage that
A. first showed signs of lust, and in the diseased state of my
mind, instead of regretting it, I encouraged her. She told me one
day that the orgasm very often did not occur at the same time
with her as with me, and that it would not unless I put my little
finger into the anus. This her husband taught her, and she would
rather have died than confess it to me when we first met. We
would often devote our Sundays to having a picnic as we termed
our lustful bouts, stimulating ourselves with wine. Her temper
was not improved thereby (though her fits entirely stopped for a
twelvemonth)--we had wordy warfares, but we made it up again
always with tears. Nor did I allow myself to deteriorate without
reactions and excursions into better things. I was always reading
Emerson; it was he who rescued me from orthodox Christianity and
taught me to trust in myself and in Nature. I have never ceased
this struggle towards better things to this day. There, in a
nutshell, is my life; I have always been defeated when
temptation came, but I have never ceased to struggle. I
determined to be more abstemious in sexual indulgence and asked
her to help me. She agreed willingly, for she was easily led.
Whenever we fell back again into excess it was my fault.
At a theatrical performance we first met a Miss T., a young
German who sang. She was about 25, with modest, quiet and
engaging manners. A. and she became very friendly. I liked her;
she was tall, dark and lithe, but had bad teeth.
I had been ill and at this time A. and I had a quarrel, my temper
suddenly breaking out in murderous frenzy. I called her names and
finally put her outside the house, telling her to go to her
mother. I suffered a very hell of remorse and misery. Everything
in the quiet, lonely house reminded me of her, seemed fragrant of
her; my anguish became so keen I could not stop in the house,
though I was just as wretched walking about. I kept this up for
two days, when I met her coming to look for me. One look was
enough--"A.!" "Pet!" in broken sobs--and in tears we kissed and
made it up. Miss T. was with her, and I greeted her, too, with
happy tears in my eyes. Another time, when A. was giving way to
_her_ temper, and one would have thought all love was dead, I
said "Don't you love me then?" and the word alone was a talisman,
her face changed, she held out her arms and began to sob
quietly.... She accepted an offer to travel with a small
theatrical company who were going up-country. She was not looking
well when I left and after a time I received a telegram telling
me to come to her at once as she was ill. Dreading all sorts of
things I borrowed my fare and went to her. I knew nothing of
women, of their point of view and different code of honor, and
was very far from the attitude of Guy de Maupassant who said he
liked women all the better for their charmingly deceitful ways.
A. wanted to see me and had taken the surest means to ensure my
coming. I was angry at first, but she looked so well and was so
loving that I could not be angry long.
One day when I was working the landlady came in and began talking
about A. and her conduct before I came. She had gone into the
actors' rooms at all hours, the woman said, and drank and been as
bad as the rest in her conversation. It was the second time a
married woman had run her down to me, and I commenced to think
there might be something in it, and suffered all my mad jealousy
over again. Not knowing the freedom actors and actresses allow
themselves on tour, without there being necessarily anything in
it, I worried till I thought I had nothing to do but die. And
then one of the great struggles of my life occurred. Walking the
country roads, I asked myself: "If it _is_ true, if she has been
unfaithful, will you forgive her and help her to arrive at her
best?" For a long time the answer was "No!" But perhaps my
striving for unity with myself had done some good, and the final
resolution was for forgiveness. I felt more peace of mind then,
and when I told a dying consumptive lodger in the house what the
landlady had said, he replied, "Don't you believe a word of it. I
know she loves you!"....
After an absence I found myself one evening in a town where A.
was performing. I went round to the back and they told me she had
gone to a room in the hotel to change for another part. I
followed and entered the room, with a glass of spirits I found
that an effeminate young actor was bringing to her. She was half
undressed, her beautiful arms and shoulders bare. My arrival was
unexpected and she looked at me surprised, I thought coldly, as I
reproached her for not keeping a promise she had made to me to
touch no alcohol during the tour, but soon her arms were round my
neck. She cried like a child. She was bigger and handsomer and
healthier. There was not only an increased strength and size, but
an increased delicacy and sweetness; her eyes and brows were
lovely; there was an indescribable bloom and fragrance on her,
such as the sun leaves on a peach; the traveling, country air,
and freedom from coitus (had I known it) had enabled her to
arrive at her true self, not only a beautiful woman, but a woman
of fascination, of wit, vivacity and universal _camaraderie_. Her
face was like the dawn; all my fears and jealousy left me like a
cloud that melts before the sun. I remember the look on her face
as she embraced me in bed that night. It had just the very
smallest touch of sensuality, but was more like some beautiful
child's who is being caressed by one she loves; this divine,
drowsy-eyed, adorable look I had never seen on her face
before--nor have I since.
We fell back into our old lustful ways. Later on A. became ill
and the black devil of epilepsy returned. I became gloomy.... A
restlessness and selfish brutality came over me; our love and
peace were gone. I persuaded A. to go to Melbourne and look out
for an engagement. The day before she was to sail we went to
Glenelg for a trip. The sea air, as often happened, precipitated
A.'s fits. We had gone down to the pier and A. said she felt bad.
I just managed to support her to the hotel before she became
stiff, and I made some impatient remark (for she nearly dragged
me down) which she heard, not being quite unconscious and said
half incoherently and very pitiably: "Be kind, oh, be kind!"
repeating it after consciousness left her. Her heart had been
breaking all day at the prospect of parting, and also, I expect,
because I was so ready to part with her. That moment was a crisis
in my life. I was in a murderous humor, but she looked so
unutterably wretched that it seemed impossible to be anything but
kind. I made myself speak lovingly to her, in moments of partial
consciousness, hired a room, carried her up, and nursed her and
petted her all night. The act of self-control, and forcing
myself to be kind whatever I felt, became a habit in time, a sort
of second nature.
In a few days she sailed. When she had gone I was remorseful and
mad with myself. How could I let her go by herself? I resolved to
follow her as speedily as possible, and did so.
If I remember rightly I came to the conclusion about this time
that we ought not to have coition unless we felt great love for
each other. It seemed to corroborate this to a certain extent
that A. always seemed more electric and pleasant to the touch
when we had connection for love and not for lust. Leave it to
Nature, I would say to myself. I began to feel how much my
struggles, efforts and temperate living had improved me. I had
more self-respect, though something of the old self-consciousness
was still left. I did not get better continuously, but in an
up-and-down zigzag. I still had moods of rage approaching madness
and periods of neurotic depression. Long walks decidedly helped
to cure me, and the sea, sun, wind, clouds and trees colored my
dreams at night very sweetly. I frequently dreamed I was walking
in orchards or forests, and a deeper, slightly melancholy but
potent savor, as of a diviner destiny, was on my soul.
After a long absence, during which she had frequently been ill,
A. joined me. I could see she was recovering from fits, which I
began to realize that she had more frequently in absence from me,
and also from drinking, perhaps. She was small and thin, but
fresh and sweet as honey, and all signs of fits and tempers
passed away from her face, so wonderful in its changes. I had
become so healthy through my abstinence, temperance and long
walks that our meeting was a new revelation to me of how
delicate, fragrant and divine a convalescent woman may be. She
was glad and surprised to see me looking so well, and if she put
her hand on my arm I felt a joyous thrill. I was certainly a
better man for abstaining and she a better woman and I determined
not to have connection unless we were carried away by our love.
As a matter of fact we did not give way to excess, though we were
very loving. I tried to persuade myself that we had not gone back
to our old ways, but I could not do so long.
Miss T. put in an appearance every day. She did not look so
innocent, but as it was no business of mine I did not trouble.
She seemed more attached to A. than ever.... A. was still very
loving with me, but it was an effort to me to keep up to her
pitch, and when A. proposed to go to Melbourne with Miss T, to
sell off the furniture before settling in Adelaide, I was rather
glad of the opportunity of abstaining from coitus and of watching
myself to see if I again improved. When A. and Miss T. came to
see me before going down to the steamer, A. was nearly crying and
Miss T., changed from the old welcome friend, was not only pale
and anxious, but looked guilty as if she had some treachery in
her mind; she could not meet my eye. I thought less of it then
than afterwards. And once more I took long walks at night and
rose early to catch the freshness of the mornings.
Some time before this I had read a book advocating a vegetarian
diet, and at this time I chanced to read Pater's beautiful "Denys
L'Auxerrois," the imaginary portrait of a young vine-dresser, who
was attractive beyond ordinary mortals and lived, until his fall
and deterioration, on fruit and water. The words, "a natural
simplicity in living" remained in my memory. I resolved to read
more carefully the book on scientific diet. Who can say, I
thought, what changes for the better may come to me if I live on
a strictly scientific and natural diet?
I fasted one whole day, and then had a breakfast of cherries, in
the middle of the day a meal of fruit, and walking in the
afternoon--a gray, rainy day--I felt so light, so different, and
the gray sky looked so sweet and familiar, that I was reminded of
the luminous visions of my boyhood. It was a distinct revelation.
This Pan-like, almost Bacchic feeling, did not last, however, nor
was I always able to maintain my new method of diet, though I
tried to do so. I made the attempt, however, but I imagine I was
more than usually run down. I would walk miles in the hope of
feeling less restless. One holiday I walked down to Glenelg,
having only had grapes for my dinner, and lying on the beach I
looked through a strong binocular glass I had borrowed at the
girls bathing. And the beauty of their faces in their frames of
hair, of their arms, of their figures, seen through their wet
clinging dresses, satisfied me and filled me with joy, gave me
for a short time that peace and content--in harmony with the
strong sunlight on the waves and the rhythmic surf on the
shore--I was seeking. The summer evenings on the pier or along
the beach had a peculiar savor; one felt the youth and beauty
there even on dark nights, the air was fragrant with them, white
dresses and summer hats disappearing down the beach or over the
sand hills. It was easy--doubtless justifiable sometimes--to put
a lewd construction on these disappearances; but I felt it need
not have been so; that it was not necessary that youth and
beauty, even the sexual act itself if led up to by love, should
be a subject of giggling and sniggering. I always left the beach
and its flitting summer dresses with a sigh.
A., after writing once, ceased writing at all and once more her
mother and I were left in a state of anxiety and suspense. At
last I determined to go to Melbourne to look for her, the only
clue I had being a remark in her letter that a certain actor was
giving her an engagement. In Melbourne I could not find any
traces of her for some days and what traces I did find of her
were not calculated to allay my anxious fears. One hotel-keeper
told me that some one of A's name had stayed there with another
hussy (giving Miss T's stage name): "There were nice carryings on
with the pair of them." I thought of Miss T's strange looks, but
could not imagine what hold she had on A., for A. loved me, I
knew. I seemed to be in an inextricable maze. I could settle to
nothing and was thinking of applying to the police when I heard
that the actor A. had mentioned had taken his company to the
Gippsland lakes. I followed to Sale, found the actor and was told
that A. was not there. "She slipped me at the last moment," he
said, "and remained in Melbourne." I returned to my lodgings,
with my anxiety and nervous restlessness increased tenfold. But
suddenly my fear and restlessness left me like a cloud. I felt
quiet, young, peaceful, able to enjoy the country, A. was
doubtless all right and would be able to explain her silence. I
undressed leisurely and happily, thinking of the stars.
The next day, Sunday, I awoke refreshed and still at peace. After
breakfast, hearing children's voices, I went out into the garden
and there was a collision of souls who somehow were affinities. A
young girl about twelve or younger with a fine presence and
handsome face fixed her eyes on me for half a minute and then
came and sat on my knee. She was one of those children I am
accustomed to call "love-children," because they are so much
brighter, healthier, larger and more loving than others. I always
imagine more love went to their making. We fell in love and she
said, stroking my beard, "Oh, you are pretty!" and I said, "And
so are you!" We were so affectionate that the servant called the
child away and I went for a walk, finding my little sweetheart
waiting for me on my return. The touch of her hand was electric
and her voice fresh and musical. I kissed her, but had become
more self-conscious since the morning and wondered if her mother
or the servant were looking, or even of they would appear. I was
not so frank and natural as my little chum. I have often thought
of her since. She had the breadth of forehead, the strength and
yet lightness of limb, together with the hands and feet, not too
small, that I always imagine the dwellers in Paradise will have.
I returned to Melbourne and continued trying to find A. At the
same time I commenced in earnest to live on fruit and brown bread
only, and enjoyed better tone and health every day, so that it
was a joy to walk down the street in the sun and exchange glances
with passengers à la old Walt. One day in the Botanical Gardens
veils seemed to be lifted off my eyes. I could look straight at
the sun and taking my note of color from that golden light I
turned my eyes on the flowers, the mown grass, the trees, and for
the first time perceived what a heavenly color green is, what
divine companions flowers are, and what a blue sky really means.
For half an hour I was in Paradise, and to complete my joy Nature
revealed to me a new and unexpected secret.
I was lying on a bench, basking, and my silk shirt coming open
the strong sun made its way to my breast and presently I felt a
totally new sensation there. I had discovered the last joy of the
skin. My skin, fed by healthy fruit-made blood, must have
functioned normally under the excitation of the sun just then
(for a brief space only, alas!). I cannot describe the joy, any
more than I could describe the taste of a peach to one who has
only eaten apples: it was satisfying, divine. I opened my shirt
wider, but the feeling only spread faintly, and indeed this
halcyon sunny hour terminated in a restlessness that sent me
walking into town to look for A.
At last I heard, not of A., but of Miss T. She was in a ballet. I
went round during rehearsal and while waiting entered into
conversation with a little chorus girl with a good face, who was
sewing. On my telling her whom I was seeking she stopped sewing
and looked at me quickly: "Oh, are you her husband? I know her.
_I have seen them together_." She looked as if she were going to
tell me something, but merely shook her old-fashioned head in a
mournful, indescribable way, saying "Why don't you keep your wife
with you?" I went to the door and presently saw Miss T. She tried
to avoid me, I thought, and looked more vicious than ever, but
after a minute's thought reluctantly told me where she and A.
were staying. To hide my fears and suspicions I had assumed a
careless demeanor, but I think I should have strangled her had
she refused to tell me. I hastily went to the place indicated and
going up the stairs (to the astonishment of the people) opened
the door and found myself face to face with A.--but how changed!
She had the hard, harlot, loveless look I detested. I felt for a
few minutes that I did not love her, and she regarded me coldly
too, but presently old habits reinstated themselves. She put out
her hands, very pitiably, and then was sobbing in my arms. I
could get nothing out of her but sobs, and to this day do not
know where she spent all these weeks nor why she did not write.
Miss T. came in after rehearsal, pale and hard-faced. I greeted
her politely, but was watching her, trying to puzzle out why A.
did not look as she usually did after long absence from coition.
Miss T. took another room in the same house and was soon joined
by another ballet girl, young and very pretty, who soon began to
have fits. A. was always crying until Miss T. went away with her
pretty friend. I knew nothing, could hardly be said to suspect
anything definite, and yet I pitied that pretty girl whose eyes
looked so helpless and appealing.
I set to work again. But I continued to live on fruit and bread,
and taking off my clothes I would stand up at the window in the
sun. A lot of prostitutes, however, who lived at the back saw me
and were scandalized or shocked or thought me mad. The landlady
heard of it and spoke to A. So I had to desist from my glorious
sun-baths.
We slept on a single bed, and though I did my best to avoid
coitus (I wanted to wait and think out some theory of it), A.,
who knew nothing of this, wanted to resume our old habits, and
finally I surrendered. But my sufferings next day were intense,
and I had the sense of having fallen from some high estate. My
thoughts were divided between two theories: one that our misery
was caused by our diet, more or less; the other that we had
fallen into some error as regards coitus, and this was becoming
almost a certainty with me.
There is one incident I think worthy of note which happened
before the "fall" just mentioned and when I was living on fruit
and in splendid health. At a performance I saw a girl on the
stage with handsome legs in tights, and once as she straightened
her leg the knee-cap going into position gave me such a strange
and keen joy--of that quality I call divine or musical--that I
was like one suddenly awakened to the divinity and beauty of the
female form. The joy was so keen and yet peaceful, familiar, and
subjective that I could not help comparing it to a happy chemical
change in the tissues of my own brain. Like the unexpected
functioning of my skin in the sun it was a sign of a partial
return to a normal condition, another glimpse of Paradise.
I stuck to my new diet and gained a fresh elation and joy in
life. Gradually clothes became insupportable, and I went down to
the beach as often as possible to take them off, and at nights,
beside the patient and astonished A., I would lie naked. One
evening, passing some grass, I looked over the fence like a gipsy
and felt a longing to take off my clothes and sleep in the grass
all night. It was of course impossible. And A. looked unhappily
in my face; she began to think her mother, who now thought I was
mad, must be right.
That night I woke up and found myself having coition. I was angry
and felt I had been put back in my progress, but a fever of lust
now came over me. I would sit under the tap and let the cold
water run over me to conquer the fever, but at the end of a week
my hopes were frustrated and I even turned against my natural
diet, on which I had made flesh. A., as I expected, went through
her usual fits, and slowly recovered. (If we had connection only
once she in about three weeks had a mild attack of fits; if we
had coition more than once the fits were more severe.) I relapsed
more than once and as a means of impressing my resolution for
future abstinence I would walk for miles in the middle of
pitch-black nights....
Miss T. came over to Adelaide and as I knew nothing definite
against her and heard that she was engaged, I thought perhaps my
suspicions were unfounded and was friendly. But one day in town I
saw her and A. on a tram going out to our cottage. Even then my
suspicions might not have been awakened, but I saw Miss T. say
something rapidly to A., and A. called out to me, "Will you be
coming home soon?" And I answered "No." When the tram had gone on
I found myself vaguely wondering what Miss T. wanted to know that
for, for my perceptions were becoming acute enough to understand
women's ways. In another minute I was walking rapidly home. When
I came to the door it was locked. I knocked and knocked and no
one came. I called out and threatened to kick in the door. Still
no one came. Mad with rage I commenced to put my threat into
execution, when the door was opened by Miss T., half-naked, in
her petticoats, and pale as death, but no longer defiant. "So
I've caught you, have I?" I _looked_, but could not trust myself
to speak. Wondering why A. did not appear I went into the
bedroom. She was lying on the bed, just as Miss T. had left her,
on the verge of a fit, and on seeing me she held out her hands
piteously, and when I stooped over her she whispered, "Send her
away, send her away." Then she became unconscious and going into
the next room I ordered Miss T. (who had managed to scramble on
her dress) out of the house. I spoke scornfully as if addressing
a dog, and she slinked out with a malignant but cowed look I hope
never to see on a woman's face again. What they had been doing
with their clothes off I do not know; women will rather die than
confess. When A. had recovered from her fit she denied that there
had been anything between them, and stuck to it doggedly, but
with such a forlorn look I had not the heart to prosecute my
inquiries.
For my part, all the efforts I had been making for so long seemed
for a time to be in vain; for some weeks I sank into a sort of
satyriasis, and even my anger against Miss T. turned to a
prurient curiosity. At the same time I was not always able to
adhere to my diet. But both as regards coition and diet I was
still fighting, and on the whole successfully. My fits of temper,
however, were excessive and my ennui became gloomy despair. One
day I blasphemed on crossing the Park and spoke contemptuously of
"God and his twopenny ha'penny revolving balls," referring to the
planetary system. But for long walks I should have gone mad. A.
was drinking in the intervals of her fits. I found half-empty
bottles of wine hidden away. This did not improve my temper, and
one day--this was when she was well and up--I struck her a heavy
blow on the face, and she aimed a glass decanter at me. She went
home to her mother and I lived alone in the cottage. I heard soon
afterwards that her husband had come back and that they had made
it up. Our parting was not, however, destined to be final.
Even out of that month's sufferings I made capital. I was better
after my tendency to lubricity, my gloom, rage, restlessness and
degradation. They had been but the irritations of convalescence.