San Francisco, April 24.
Dr. Howard, a London physician of considerable prominence, was the guest of William Greer Harrison at the Bohemian Club recently. The Englishman told a singular story to his host and vouched for its correctness in every particular. It related to the mystery of "Jack the Ripper", which the physician declared was no longer a mystery among the scientific man of London, or the dectectives of Scotland yard. He said this assasin was a medical man of high standing and extensive practice. He was married to a beautiful and amiable wife, and had a family. Shortly before the beginning of the Whitechapel murders he developed a peculiar and, to his wife, an inexplicable mania - an unnatural pleasure in causing pain. She grew so alarmed that she became afraid of him and locked herself and her children up when she saw the mood coming over him. When he recovered from the paroxysms and she spoke to him about it he laughed at her fears. Then the Whitechapel murders filled London with horror. The suspicions of the wife were arounsed, and as one assassination succeeded the other, she noted with heartbreaking dread that at the periods when these murders were supposed to have been committed her husband was invariably absent from home.

At last the suspense and fear of the wretched wife became unbearable and she went to a few of her husband's medical friends, stated the case, and asked their advice and assistance. They called the Scotland yard force to assist them, and by adding one fact to another the chain of evidence pointing to the doctor as the author of the murders, became complete. The physicians visited the murderer and told him they wished to consult him about a remarkable case. They stated his own in detail, and asked him what should be done with the case. He replied that while the unmistakable insanity of the person who could commit these crimes would save him from the halter, he should certainly be confined to a lunatic asylum. Then they told him he himself was the maniac who had done these fearful acts. He declared the impossibility of the accusation, but confessed that of late years there were gaos in the twenty-four hours of which he positively had no recollection. He said that he had awakened in his rooms as if from a stupor and found mud upon his boots and blood upon his hands. He also had scratches upon his face, and his amputating knives had shown signs of use, though he could not recall having assisted at any operation. The doctors then assured him that there could be no doubt of his identity with the Whitechapel assassin. They made an exhaustive search of his house, led by the accused, found ample proofs of murder, and the unhappy man whose mind at that moment was in its normally clear condition, begged to be removed from the world as a guilty and dangerous monster. The necessary papers were made out and the irresponsible murderer was committed to the insane asylum. In a month or so he lost all semblance of sanity and is now the most intractable and dangerous madman confined in that institution.