“When twenty-seven, I became engaged to a young lady. Her mind and æsthetic feeling, as well as financial considerations, induced me to think of marriage. At the same time, I am very fond of children, and, whenever I meet even the commonest day-laborer and his wife and a pretty child, I envy the man his good fortune. Thus I made a fool of myself. I managed to get through the time of courtship; when kissing my bride I felt more anxiety and fear than pleasure. On one or two occasions, however, after luxurious dinners, while kissing her passionately, I had erections. How happy I was at that! I saw myself already a father. I twice came near breaking off the engagement. On my marriage-day, when all the guests had assembled, I locked myself in a room, cried like a child, and felt that I could not proceed with the ceremony. At the persuasion of all the relatives, to whom I made the best excuses that occurred to me, I allowed myself to be taken, in ordinary street-costume, to the altar. “As great good fortune would have it, at the time of the marriage, my wife was menstruating. Oh, how thankful I was for this excuse! I am now convinced that this circumstance is all that made later cohabitation possible. How it later became possible for me to cohabit with my wife, and have a lovely boy, I do not know. He is the comfort of my ruined life. I can only thank God for the happiness of having a child. I was a cheat, so to speak, in the marriage-bed. My wife, whom I respect for her high qualities of character, has no suspicion of my condition, but she often complains of my coldness. With her goodness of heart and simplicity, it was possible for me to make her think that the conjugal duty should be performed but once a month. Since she is in nowise sensual, and I can find excuse in my nervousness, I am successful in keeping up the swindle. Cohabitation is the greatest sacrifice for me. By taking considerable wine, and by making use of the erections which occur in the morning, as the result of an overfilled bladder, it is possible for me to perform coitus once a month; but it affords me no pleasurable feeling, and I am worried and experience an increase of my nervous difficulties all day long after it. The consciousness of having fulfilled my duty toward my wife, whom in all other respects I love, affords me moral consolation and satisfaction. With a man, it is otherwise. With him I can perform the act several times in a night, always taking the sexual _rôle_ of a man. In this, I experience the greatest pleasure, the purest happiness. I feel myself refreshed and invigorated by it. Of late, my desire for men has somewhat decreased; in fact, I have courage even to avoid a handsome young man that approaches me. Will it last? I fear not. I am absolutely unable to do without male love; if I am compelled to forego it, I become depressed, feel weary and miserable, and have