he has enjoyed, he declares, can equal a thousandth part of the pain caused by the internal consciousness of pariahdom.  The utmost he can plead in his own defense, he admits, is irresponsibility, for he acknowledges that his impulse may be morbid.  But he feels absolutely certain that in early life his health was ruined and his moral repose destroyed owing to the perpetual conflict with his own inborn nature, and that relief and strength came with indulgence.  Although he always has before him the terror of discovery, he is convinced that his sexual dealings with men have been thoroughly wholesome to himself, largely increasing his physical, moral, and intellectual energy, and not injurious to others.  He has no sense whatever of moral wrong in his actions, and he regards the attitude of society toward those in his position as utterly unjust and founded on false principles.

The next case is, like the foregoing, that of a successful man of letters who also passed through a long period of mental conflict before he became reconciled to his homosexual instincts.  He belongs to a family who are all healthy and have shown marked ability in different intellectual departments.  He feels certain that one of his brothers is as absolute an invert as himself and that another is attracted to both sexes.  I am indebted to him for the following detailed narrative, describing his emotions and experiences in childhood, which I regard as of very great interest, not only as a contribution to the psychology of inversion, but to the embryology of the sexual emotions generally.  We here see described, in an unduly precocious and hyperesthetic form, ideas and feelings which, in a slighter and more fragmentary shape, may be paralleled in the early experiences of many normal men and women.  But it must be rare to find so many points in sexual psychology so definitely illustrated in a single child.  It may be added that the narrative is also not without interest as a study in the evolution of a man of letters; a child whose imagination was thus early exercised and developed was predestined for a literary career.

HISTORY XXI.—­“Almost the earliest recollection I have is of a dream, which, from my vivid recollection of its details, must have repeated itself, I think, more than once, unless my waking thoughts unconsciously added definition.  From this dream dated my consciousness of the attraction to me of my own sex, which has ever since dominated my life.  The dream, suggested in part, I think, by a picture in an illustrated newspaper of a mob murdering a church dignitary, took this form:  I dreamed that I saw my own father murdered by a gang of ruffians, but I do not remember that I felt any grief, though I was actually an exceedingly affectionate child.  The body was then stripped of its clothing and eviscerated.  I had at the time no notion of anatomical details; but the particulars remain distinct to my mind’s eye, of entrails uniformly brown, the color of dung,