set in, there came a gradual flagging of my
creative impulse until a very normal unproductivity supervened.

The reader may well wonder in what my so-called insanity at this time
consisted. Had I any of those impracticable delusions which had
characterized my former period of elation? No, not one--unless an
unreasonable haste to achieve my ambitions may be counted a delusion.
My attention simply focussed itself on my project. All other
considerations seemed of little moment. My interest in business waned
to the vanishing point. Yet one thing should be noted: I did
deliberately devote many hours to the consideration of business
affairs. Realizing that one way to overcome an absorbing impulse is to
divide the attention, I wrote a brief of the arguments I had often used
when talking with bankers. In this way I was able to convince the
doctors that my intense interest in literature and reform would soon
spend itself.

A consuming desire to effect reforms had been the determining factor
when I calmly weighed the situation with a view to making the best
possible use of my impulse to write. The events of the immediate past
had convinced me that I could not hope to interest people of wealth and
influence in my humanitarian project until I had some definite plan to
submit for their leisurely consideration. Further, I had discovered
that an attempt to approach them directly disturbed my relatives and
friends, who had not yet learned to dissociate! present intentions from
past performances. I had, therefore, determined to drill myself in the
art of composition to the end that I might write a story of my life
which would merit publication. I felt that such a book, once written,
would do its own work, regardless of my subsequent fortunes. Other
books had spoken even from the grave; why should not my book so
speak--if necessary?

With this thought in mind I began not only to read and write, but to
test my impulse in order that I might discover if it were a part of my
very being, an abnormal impulse, or a mere whim. I reasoned that to
compare my own feelings toward literature, and my emotions experienced
in the heat of composition, with the recorded feelings of successful
men of letters, would give me a clue to the truth on this question. At
this time I read several books that could have served as a basis for my
deductions, but only one of them did I have time to analyze and note in
my diary. That one was, "Wit and Wisdom of the Ea