order to get it through the mails, I determined to make this brochure
upon the woman question extremely pianissimo in tone, and to
avoid burdening it with any ideas of an unfamiliar, and hence illegal
nature. So deciding, I presently added a bravura touch: the
unquenchable vanity of the intellectual snob asserting itself over all
prudence. That is to say, I laid down the rule that no idea should go
into the book that was not already so obvious that it had been
embodied in the proverbial philosophy, or folk-wisdom, of some
civilized nation, including the Chinese. To this rule I remained
faithful throughout. In its original form, as published in 1918, the
book was actuary just such a pastiche of proverbs, many of them
English, and hence familiar even to Congressmen, newspaper
editors and other such illiterates. It was not always easy to hold to
this program; over and over again I was tempted to insert notions
that seemed to have escaped the peasants of Europe and Asia. But
in the end, at some cost to the form of the work, I managed to get
through it without compromise, and so it was put into type. There
is no need to add that my ideational abstinence went unrecognized
and unrewarded. In fact, not a single American reviewer noticed it,
and most of them slated the book violently as a mass of heresies and
contumacies, a deliberate attack upon all the known and revered
truths about the woman question, a headlong assault upon the
national decencies. In the South, where the suspicion of ideas goes
to extraordinary lengths, even for the United States, some of the
newspapers actually denounced the book as German propaganda,
designed to break down American morale, and called upon the
Department of Justice to proceed against me for the crime known to
American law as "criminal anarchy," i.e., "imagining the King's
death." Why the Comstocks did not forbid it the mails as lewd and
lascivious I have never been able to determine. Certainly, they