books that show even a superficial desire to be honest--"The
Unexpurgated Case Against Woman Suffrage," by Sir Almroth
Wright, and this one. Wright made a gallant attempt to tell the
truth, but before he got half way through his task his ineradicable
donkeyishness as a male overcame his scientific frenzy as a
psychologist, and so he hastily washed his hands of the business,
and affronted the judicious with a half baked and preposterous
book. Perhaps I have failed too, and even more ingloriously. If so,
I am full of sincere and indescribable regret.