by John Stuart Mill in his essay
"On Liberty," which I had read and reread with an interest born of
experience.

At last the first draft of the greater part of my story was completed.
After a timely remittance (for, in strict accordance with the
traditions of the craft, I had exhausted my financial resources) I
started for home with a sigh of relief. For months I had been under the
burden of a conscious obligation. My memory, stored with information
which, if rightly used, could, I believed, brighten and even save
unhappy lives, was to me as a basket of eggs which it was my duty to
balance on a head whose poise was supposed to be none too certain. One
by one, during the preceding five weeks, I had gently lifted my
thoughts from their resting-place, until a large part of my burden had
been so shifted as to admit of its being imposed upon the public
conscience.

After I had lived over again the trials and the tortures of my
unhappiest years--which was of course necessary in ploughing and
harrowing a memory happily retentive--the completion of this first
draft left me exhausted. But after a trip to New York, whither I went
to convince my employers that I should be granted a further
leave-of-absence, I resumed work. The ground for this added favor was
that my manuscript was too crude to submit to any but intimate
acquaintances. Knowing, perhaps, that a business man with a literary
bee buzzing in his ear is, for the time, no business man at all, my
employers readily agreed that I should do as I pleased during the month
of October. They also believed me entitled to the favor, recognizing
the force of my belief that I had a high obligation to discharge.

It was under the family rooftree that I now set up my literary shop.
Nine months earlier an unwonted interest in literature and reform had
sent me to an institution. That I should now in my own home be able to
work out my destiny without unduly disturbing the peace of mind of
relatives was a considerable satisfaction. In the very room where,
during June, 1900, my reason had set out for an unknown goal, I
redictated my account of that reason's experiences.

My leave-of-absence ended, I resumed my travels eagerly; for I wished
to cool my brain by daily contact with the more prosaic minds of men of
business. I went South. For a time I banished all thoughts of my book
and project. But after some months of this change of occupation, which
I thoroughly enjoyed, I found leisure