Several times in my narrative, I have said that the seemingly unkind
fate that robbed me of several probably happy and healthful years had
hidden within it compensations which have offset the sufferings and the
loss of those years. Not the least of the compensations has been the
many letters sent to me by eminent men and women, who, having achieved
results in their own work, are ever responsive to the efforts of anyone
trying to reach a difficult objective. Of all the encouraging opinions
I have ever received, one has its own niche in my memory. It came from
William James a few months before his death, and will ever be an
inspiration to me. Let my excuse for revealing so complimentary a
letter be that it justifies the hopes and aspirations expressed in the
course of my narrative, and shows them to be well on the way to
accomplishment.
95 IRVING STREET, CAMBRIDGE,
January 17, 1910.