Give me unquell'd those impulses to prove; Rapture so deep, its ecstasy was pain, The power of hate, the energy of love, Give me, oh give me back my youth again!

The ecstasy with which a man is filled at the sight of a beautiful woman, making him imagine that union with her will be the greatest happiness, is simply the sense of the species.

Recent experiments on both sensation and memory in certain abnormal states have added plausibility to this view, and justify us in holding that in spite of its frequent association with hysteria, ecstasy is not necessarily in itself a morbid symptom.