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 grounds she had refused the husband suggested by her father.

The father, a small peasant on a lean little farm, had taken as a servant, just at the time when his youngest daughter came into the world, a miserable little boy, a foundling. The boy developed in most unpleasant fashion: he was so stupid that he could not learn to read or write or even speak quite properly. He was an absolute idiot. As he approached manhood there developed on his neck a series of ulcers, some of which opened and continually discharged pus, giving such a dirty, ugly creature a horrible appearance. His intelligence did not grow with his years, so he stayed on as servant in the peasant’s house without any recognised wage.

To this youth the father wanted to marry his favourite daughter.

The girl, fortunately, had not been disposed to yield, but now she regretted it, since this idiot would unquestionably have been more obedient to her father than her good man had been.

Here, as in the foregoing case, it must be clearly understood that the patient is not at all weak-minded. Both possess normal intelligence, which unfortunately the blinkers of the infantile constellation prevent their using. That appears with quite remarkable clearness in this patient’s life-story. The father’s authority is never questioned! It makes not the least difference that he is a quarrelsome drunkard, the obvious cause of all the quarrels and disturbances; on the contrary, the lawful husband must give way to the bogey, and at last our patient even comes to regret that her father did not succeed in completely destroying her life’s happiness. So now she sets about doing that herself through her neurosis, which compels in her the wish to die, that she may go to hell, whither, be it noted, the father has already betaken himself.

If we are ever disposed to see some demonic power at work controlling mortal destiny, surely we can see it here in these melancholy silent tragedies working themselves out