A Mind That Found Itself | Page 4

at hand, would suddenly intervene and deprive me of all but the power
to say, "Not prepared." Weeks would pass without any other record being placed opposite
my name than a zero, or a blank indicating that I had not been called upon at all.
Occasionally, however, a professor, in justice to himself and to the other students, would
insist that I recite, and at such times I managed to make enough of a recitation to hold my
place in the class.
When I entered Yale, I had four definite ambitions: first, to secure an election to a
coveted secret society; second, to become one of the editors of the Yale Record, an
illustrated humorous bi-weekly; third (granting that I should succeed in this latter
ambition), to convince my associates that I should have the position of business
manager--an office which I sought, not for the honor, but because I believed it would
enable me to earn an amount of money at least equal to the cost of tuition for my years at
Yale; fourth (and this was my chief ambition), to win my diploma within the prescribed
time. These four ambitions I fortunately achieved.
A man's college days, collectively, are usually his happiest. Most of mine were not happy.
Yet I look back upon them with great satisfaction, for I feel that I was fortunate enough to
absorb some of that intangible, but very real, element known as the "Yale spirit." This has

helped to keep Hope alive within me during my most discouraged moments, and has ever
since made the accomplishment of my purposes seem easy and sure.

II
On the thirtieth day of June, 1897, I graduated at Yale. Had I then realized that I was a
sick man, I could and would have taken a rest. But, in a way, I had become accustomed to
the ups and downs of a nervous existence, and, as I could not really afford a rest, six days
after my graduation I entered upon the duties of a clerk in the office of the Collector of
Taxes in the city of New Haven. I was fortunate in securing such a position at that time,
for the hours were comparatively short and the work as congenial as any could have been
under the circumstances. I entered the Tax Office with the intention of staying only until
such time as I might secure a position in New York. About a year later I secured the
desired position. After remaining in it for eight months I left it, in order to take a position
which seemed to offer a field of endeavor more to my taste. From May, 1899, till the
middle of June, 1900, I was a clerk in one of the smaller life-insurance companies, whose
home office was within a stone's throw of what some men consider the center of the
universe. To be in the very heart of the financial district of New York appealed strongly
to my imagination. As a result of the contagious ideals of Wall Street, the making of
money was then a passion with me. I wished to taste the bitter-sweet of power based on
wealth.
For the first eighteen months of my life in New York my health seemed no worse than it
had been during the preceding three years. But the old dread still possessed me. I
continued to have my more and less nervous days, weeks, and months. In March, 1900,
however, there came a change for the worse. At that time I had a severe attack of grippe
which incapacitated me for two weeks. As was to be expected in my case, this illness
seriously depleted my vitality, and left me in a frightfully depressed condition--a
depression which continued to grow upon me until the final crash came, on June 23rd,
1900. The events of that day, seemingly disastrous as then viewed, but evidently all for
the best as the issue proved, forced me along paths traveled by thousands, but
comprehended by few.
I had continued to perform my clerical duties until June 15th. On that day I was
compelled to stop, and that at once. I had reached a point where my will had to capitulate
to Unreason--that unscrupulous usurper. My previous five years as a neurasthenic had led
me to believe that I had experienced all the disagreeable sensations an overworked and
unstrung nervous system could suffer. But on this day several new and terrifying
sensations seized me and rendered me all but helpless. My condition, however, was not
apparent even to those who worked with me at the same desk. I remember trying to speak
and at times finding myself unable to give utterance to my thoughts. Though I was able to
answer questions, that fact hardly diminished my