"Owing to the fact that my mother suffered from some malady the whole period of gestation prior to my birth, I came into the world so puny a child, so ill-nourished, that for some time the doctors despaired of my life. Till the age of puberty, though never ill, I suffered greatly from delicate health. I was abnormally sensitive and all my affections and passions extraordinarily developed. Owing to my brothers being much older than myself I was thrown into the society of my sister. Till 8 years old she was my chief playmate. With her I played with dolls and abandoned myself wholly to the delights of an imaginary land which was much more real to me than the world around me. I never remember learning to read, but at 5 the _Arabian Nights_ and Kingsley's _Hereward the Wake_ were my favorite books. Living in the country the society of other children was difficult to obtain. My whole affections centered in my father, my mother having died when I was a child. This affection for my father was rather a morbid passion which absorbed my life. I dared not leave his side for fear of a final separation from him. I would wake him when asleep to see if he still lived. To this day, though he died twenty-six years ago, his memory haunts me. "My first abnormal desires were connected with him. I had seen him occasionally micturating in the garden alleys or out in the country. These occasions excited me terribly, and I would, if possible, wait till he had gone, and touch the humid leaves, drawing a terrible pleasure from the contact. Afterward, though he never suspected it, desire for him became a consuming passion, and I remember on one occasion, when on a holiday, I occupied the same bed with him, the excitement of his propinquity brought on such a formidable attack of heart palpitation that my father called in the family physician on our return home. Needless to say my heart was found quite sound. The desire still remains after all these years, and nothing excites me more even now than the memory of my father in his morning bath.