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Vienna, April 28, 1910
Dear Friend,
Forgive me for not replying to your congratulations last year. You may be sure that they made me very happy. We have grown old since we first shared the small pleasures of student life. Now life is running out. I should very much like to hear in detail how things are with you. Of myself I can only say that I have come up against a great many unforeseen difficulties, but that on the whole I am not too dissatisfied with the outcome. My scientific expectations are slowly being fulfilled; I earn enough for our needs and might now be a well-to-do man had I not preferred a large family. The patients you mention are welcome to call; I shall refer them to my many pupils, who will treat them as I will suggest, but I myself cannot take on anything more this season.
I am in the midst of a great movement in the interpretation and treatment of nervous diseases, one that is probably not unknown in Romania either, since it has gained many adherents in Russia, Switzerland, and America. Last September I visited America by invitation, giving a course of lectures at a university in the vicinity of Boston.1 It is in Germany, of all places, that I still have to overcome a great deal of hostility.
Thanking you cordially for your “sign of life”
Your old
Freud