"Humph," muttered the doctor, "it isn't easy to say what proportion of your scemptoms may be temporary, and what pairmenent; but ye've a vairy shabby pair of lungs at this praisent writing. What's your family heestory?" "My father died of consumption at thirty." "Humph! ainy other relative?" "My aunt, a girl of nineteen; my father's mother, at seven-and-twenty." "Dear, dear, that's no vairy lively retrospaict. Is this your fairst attack of heemorrage?" "Not by three or four." The good old doctor shook his head. "Ye'll need to take extreme care of yourself," he said: "and ye'll no be for spending much of your life in thees country. Ye might do vairy weel in September and October at Rothsay or in the Isle of Arran, but I'd recommaind ye to winter in the South." "Do you think I shall be a long-lived man?" "My dear sir, that'll depend on care and circumstances beyond human foresight. I couldn't conscientiously recommaind your life to an Insurance Office." "Do you think that a man in my condition is justified in marrying?" "Do ye want a plain answer?" "The plainest that you can give me." "Then I tell you frankly that I think the marriage of a man with a marked consumptive tendency, like yours, is a crime--a crying sin, which is inexcusable in the face of modern science and modern enlightenment, and our advanced knowledge of the mainsprings of life and death. What, sir, can it be less than a crime to bring into this world children burdened with an hereditary curse, destined to a heritage of weakness and pain--bright young minds fettered by diseased bodies--born to perish untimely? Mr. Hamleigh, did ye ever read a book called 'Ecce Homo?'" "Yes, it is a book of books. I know it by heart." "Then ye'll may be remaimber the writer's summing up of practical Chreestianity as a seestem of ethics which in its ultimate perfection will result in the happiness of the human race--even that last enemy, Death, if not subdued, may be made to keep his distance, seemply by a due observance of natural laws--by an unselfish forethought and regard in each member of the human species for the welfare of the multitude. The man who becomes the father of a race of puny children, can be no friend to humanity. He predooms future suffering to the innocent by a reckless indulgence of his own inclination in the present." "Yes, I believe you are right," said Angus, with a despairing sigh. "It seems a hard thing for a man who loves, and is beloved by, the sweetest among women, to forego even a few brief years of perfect bliss, and go down lonely to the grave--to accept this doctrine of renunciation, and count himself as one dead in life. Yet a year ago I told myself pretty much what you have told me to-day. I was tempted from my resolve by a woman's loving devotion--and now--a crucial point has come--and I must decide whether to marry or not."