Case 7. "I am not what would be called a general emotional type, but I have a special emotional memory—that of fear, which in me is very pronounced.... I have had in my life, like every one else, many joyful moments; I will frankly say that, when I remember those incidents in my life which have caused me great joy, I feel no joy whatever. Besides, it is very difficult to recall the moments in which I felt joyful, or even the incidents which produced my joy—probably because the representative memory has not been reinforced by the emotional memory. I do not know how this may be, and do not attempt to draw any inferences from my own case. I am only speaking of myself. "I have tried to recall one of the moments in my life when I had the acutest sense of joy—it was in April 1888. [Here follows a long description of honours obtained by the author at the age of twenty, and the applause—unexpected at his age—of a numerous public assembly.] I have a clear and very accurate recollection of the incidents I have just been describing; I can remember the cause to which, rightly or wrongly, I attributed my success; I could repeat nearly every word I said on that occasion; I could remember (though not so easily) the hall and the faces of the audience; but I find, to-day, no joy whatever in thinking of all this. "As regards my capacity for reviving sad recollections the same may be said as in the case of joyfulness. "To return to fear. I have two very conclusive examples of special emotional memory. When a boarder at the S—— _lycée_ at Bucharest, I dreaded all the staff of the institution on account of a punishment they were in the habit of inflicting on me—that of confinement to the schoolroom on holidays. I remember having such a fear of this imprisonment that, once I had left the building, it was with great difficulty I could bring myself to pass the gateway, for fear of being stopped. In later years, having finished my studies, and kept up friendly relations with all persons concerned, I used sometimes to return on a visit to the Lycée, but never without feeling a kind of terrified shudder on my entrance. "More than this: having remained three years at Paris, without visiting my own country, I returned to Bucharest, and went to see a new director, with whom I was on friendly terms. Even then, when approaching the door of the institution, I felt a sort of uneasiness which was nothing else but my old dread in an attenuated form.