Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether the sound awoke any response in my brain. I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I stored it up for future examination. Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I separated into two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and hard. This examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of hard C. H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing. The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters. L, M, N, O were speedily rejected. At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve, but not to give it equal rank with the others. Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u, and rejected all. The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded. In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C hard, G hard, and K, with P a possibility. It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active, though I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it had been for days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on track of discovery. It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to get where I was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would likely take me hours more to advance a single step farther. A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very unusual name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen written, except as the name of this Doctor? This thought included other thoughts--one was the idea of a written name. I had been following but one line of approach, while there were two,--sound and form. I had not considered the written approach, but now I saw the importance of that process. Another thought was, whether it would help me for the name to be not merely unusual, but entirely unknown. I could not decide this question. I saw reasons for and against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except as applied to the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to roll names and names through my brain for years without result, if my brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an old man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted another, wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in hunting a word impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and put it to sleep. The uncommon name would cause me to reject all common names, perhaps at first presentation; my attention would be concentrated on peculiar sounds and forms. If my mind were now in condition to respond to the name, I might get it very soon. In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my objective, for I sank to sleep. At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the night's work. I wrote as follows:-- C G K.... P Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that impressed me. I had C without any following.