I had a letter from my uncle in the Artillery,
Sir Alexander Munro, shortly after my start,
telling me that he had heard of my proceedings
from my mother, and that he hoped to learn of
my success. He is, as I think you know, an
ardent Wesleyan, like all my father's people,
and he told me that the chief Wesleyan minister
in the town was an old friend of his own, that
he had learned from him that there was no
Wesleyan doctor, and that, being of a Wesleyan
stock myself, if I would present the enclosed
letter of introduction to the minister, I should
certainly find it very much to my advantage.
I thought it over, Bertie, and it seemed to me
that it would be playing it rather low down to
use a religious organisation to my own ad-
vantage, when I condemned them in the
abstract. It was a sore temptation, but I
destroyed the letter.
I had one or two pieces of luck in the way
of accidental cases. One (which was of
immense importance to me) was that of a
grocer named Haywood, who fell down in a
fit outside the floor of his shop. I was passing
on my way to see a poor labourer with typhoid.
You may believe that I saw my chance, bustled
in, treated the man, conciliated the wife, tickled
the child, and gained over the whole household.
