1891, at the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, Miss Flagler
became the Baroness Harden-Hickey. The Rev. John Hall married
them.

For the next two years Harden-Hickey lived in New York, but so
quietly that, except that he lived quietly, it is difficult to find out
anything concerning him. The man who, a few years before, had
delighted Paris with his daily feuilletons, with his duels, with his
forty-two lawsuits, who had been the master of revels in the Latin
Quarter, in New York lived almost as a recluse, writing a book on
Buddhism. While he was in New York I was a reporter on the
_Evening Sun_, but I cannot recall ever having read his name in
the newspapers of that day, and I heard of him only twice; once as
giving an exhibition of his water-colors at the American Art
Galleries, and again as the author of a book I found in a store in
Twenty-second Street, just east of Broadway, then the home of the
Truth Seeker Publishing Company.

It was a grewsome compilation and had just appeared in print. It
was called "Euthanasia, or the Ethics of Suicide." This book was
an apology or plea for self-destruction. In it the baron laid down
those occasions when he considered suicide pardonable, and when
obligatory. To support his arguments and to show that suicide was
a noble act, he quoted Plato, Cicero, Shakespeare, and even
misquoted the Bible. He gave a list of poisons, and the amount of
each necessary to kill a human being. To show how one can depart
from life with the least pain, he illustrated the text with most
unpleasant pictures, drawn by himself.

The book showed how far Harden-Hickey had strayed from the