cares not into what midden he may probe so long as he finds it.  No writer on 18th century French History, for example, would nowadays make half apologies, as Carlyle did, for having read Casanova.  Indeed, he would lay himself open to censure unless he admitted having studied it carefully.  Still, every genuine and right-minded student regards it as a duty to keep books such as these, which are unsuited for the general public, under lock and key—­just as the medical man treats his books of plates and other reference volumes.  Then again it is entirely a mistake to suppose that the works issued or contemplated by the Kama Shastra Society were all of them erotic.  Two out of the six actually done:  The Beharistan and The Gulistan, and the whole of the nine still in manuscript, might, after a snip or two with the scissors, be read aloud in almost any company.

We have the first hint of the Kama Shastra Society in a letter to Payne, 5th August 1882.  “I hope,” says Burton, “you will not forget my friend, F. F. Arbuthnot, and benefit him by your advice about publishing when he applies to you for it.  He has undertaken a peculiar branch of literature—­the Hindu Erotic, which promises well.”  On Dec. 23th he writes:  “My friend Arbuthnot writes to me that he purposes calling upon you.  He has founded a society consisting of himself and myself.”  After further reference to the idea he adds, “I hope that you will enjoy it.”  A few days later Mr. Arbuthnot called on Mr. Payne.  Mr. Payne did not “enjoy” the unfolding of the Kama Shastra scheme, he took no interest in it whatever; but, of course, he gave the information required as to cost of production; and both then and subsequently assisted in other matters of business.  Moreover, to Mr. Arbuthnot himself, as a man of great personal charm, Mr. Payne became sincerely attached, and a friendship resulted that was severed only by death.

The arrangement about financing the books did not, of course, apply to The Arabian Nights.  That was Burton’s own affair; for its success was supposed to be assured from the first.  Of the books other than The Arabian Nights published by the Kama Shastra Society—­each of which purported, facetiously, to be printed at Behares, the name which Burton chose to give to Stoke Newington, we shall now give a brief account.

Several, we said, are erotic.  But it should be clearly understood what is here meant by the term.  The plays of Wycherley and other Caroline dramatists are erotic in a bad sense.  We admit their literary qualities, but we cannot hide from ourselves the fact that they were written by libertines and that an attempt is made to render vice attractive.  The injured husband, for example, is invariably ridiculed, the adulterer glorified.  The Hindu books, on the other hand, were written by professedly religious men whose aim was “not to encourage chambering and wantonness, but simply and in all sincerity to prevent the separation of husband and wife”—­