I returned home from this second tour in the Eastern States in April, 1876, with shattered nerves and weary brain, but instead of resting, I went on lecturing until my overworked mind and body could no longer hold out, and then it was, after nearly two years of sobriety, that I once more fell.  For weeks before this disaster overtook me, I was actually an irresponsible maniac.  My pulse was never lower than one hundred to the minute, and much of the time it ran up to one hundred and twenty.  I was so weak that with all my energy aroused I could only move about with feeble steps, and a constant anxiety and longing for something to drink preyed upon me.  I was not content to remain in one place, but wanted to be going somewhere all the time, I cared not where.  In this condition I dragged along my existence for weeks, until at last, driven to a frenzy, reason fled, and I plunged headlong into the horrors of another debauch.  My downward course appeared to be accelerated by the very struggles which I had made to rise during the past two years.  The moment I recovered from one horrible spell another more fierce seized me and plunged me into the very depths of hell.  I now conceived the idea of getting some one to travel with me, thinking that by this means I could perhaps throw off the morbid gloom and melancholy which hung over me.  But again I did the very thing I should not have done—­I lectured.

On the 30th of September, 1876, I started from Indianapolis, in company with Gen. Dan.  Macauley, on a third lecturing tour East.  I was drunk when we started, and remained in that accursed state during the journey.  At Buffalo, New York, we got separated, thence I went to New York city alone, where I continued drinking until I had no money.  I then commenced to pawn my clothes—­first, my vest; second, a pair of new boots, worth fourteen dollars; I got a quart of whisky, an old and worn-out pair of shoes, and ten cents in money, for my boots.  I drank up the whisky, and traded off my overcoat.  It was worth sixty dollars.  I realized about five cents on the dollar, and all the horrors of all hells ever heard of, for I was attacked with the delirium tremens.  By some means, of which I am entirely ignorant, I got across the river, into Jersey City, and was there arrested and lodged in the calaboose, in which I remained from Saturday until the following Monday.  I suffered more in the forty-eight hours embraced in that time than I ever before or since suffered in the same length of time.  I do not know the hour, but it was getting dark on that Saturday evening, when I got deathly sick, and commenced vomiting.  I continued vomiting until Monday.  Nothing that I swallowed would remain on my stomach.  About eight o’clock Saturday evening the authorities, the police officers, put a large number of men and boys, who were arrested for being drunk, in the room in which I was confined.  By midnight there were fourteen of us in a small, poorly-ventilated, dirty room.  Planks extended