What has actually happened has been this. Each time that I have succeeded, in one way or another, in reaching a point where I was no longer taking the drug, I have, even while the suffering was still acute, been filled with a sense of happiness and hope that enabled me to stand it thankfully. I have argued with myself that, being then able even to exist without the drug and, for a while finding this existence day by day a little less of torture, I might reasonably hope for continued improvement. I have not expected miracles, but I have felt that each week should be easier, until, after a period of some few months, I should again be normal. But this has not come about. Always I have reached a point where progress seemed to stop, and beyond this point my system refused to react. Occasionally this standstill has been quickly reached, that is, I could not react beyond a point where I was unable to sleep, where my legs ached atrociously, and where I was so completely unstrung that life was unendurable. At best, progress has continued for a few weeks, after which, though resting well, having a prodigious appetite and not undergoing marked physical suffering, I have actually been far from normal. This was shown, on these special occasions, chiefly by my inability to do satisfactory work, by my tiring altogether too easily and by a general feeling of unrest and disquietude. I realize the difficulty of so describing my condition during these most favorable occasions as to show at all convincingly that I was not actually cured and that, in consequence, my resuming the taking of the drug was anything but a relapse. This, however, I must not attempt to do, since the main contention which I wish to make is here directly led up to. And, hard as is the whole task I have set myself in writing this account, this special part of it is peculiarly difficult, involving the risk of appearing to set a false value on certain personal considerations. My life has been an active and useful one. I have done work which I know to be good and which has brought recognition. Successful work, even in a given line of endeavor, is not always due to the same qualities in different men. My own work has been characterized by the exercise of careful judgment and the power of accurate analysis, qualities which I have always been credited with possessing. Now, after the most favorable of the so-called treatments which I have taken, and after allowing considerable time for complete recovery, I have in no instance regained these most essential requisites for my work, and thus I have been placed in a position where I would either have had to discontinue my work, or else do the only thing which made the resuming of that work possible. And always there has been the absolute conviction that this state of affairs was due to my not having been actually cured. On this point there has not been one iota of doubt.