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as they passed him, they felt so small beside him. He was inclined to be rather peculiar in his disposition, habits and dress, but that was all excused because he was considered clever. He is now in a very modest country general practice which he bought at a high price, having been cheated in the transaction, and he does not even create the impression in the community he works amongst that average practitioners do; in fact a good many fight shy of him. "He may be clever," people say, "but no one can see where his cleverness lies." He has great difficulty in keeping his practice together, and looks like losing it all in time.

Dr. Korson Richards always appeared to be far too clever to ever succeed in the world. He was also several times a medallist as a student and is now very highly qualified. He intended being a consultant as soon as he could, after qualifying, and he worked for a few years with this object. But patients did not come. The fact is, he always dressed badly, remarking that clothes do not indicate brains. Patients cannot to this day be induced to believe in him, thinking there is something uncanny about him. He at length decided to go in for general practice, after coming to the conclusion that the world was overrun with consultants, and now report has it that he is hardly earning his rent after six years in the provinces.

Drs. Brown, Jones and Robinson, are three medical men of the same type, who did very well as students, all gaining medals and taking good degrees. They also took part in athletics. They worked hard, after receiving their diplomas, and took an intelligent interest in matters outside their own particular work. They began practice by getting small hospital appointments, and, rising by degrees, they were soon able to pay the rent of a good West End address each. But patients came very slowly. After several years sticking to it they managed to make a few pounds, and they are still rising slowly but surely. These men would have done better if they

had not taken hospital appointments, which are so apt to make a man very exalted in his own estimation, and which give him a haughty and superior sort of style that private patients do not like.

Dr. Levelhed has done well. He was a medallist and honours-man as a student; a good fellow at athletics and cheerfully disposed towards everything and everybody. He took tastes of the world as he went along and learned a good deal of human nature. He had private means and a father with influence. His path was well swept for him from the first and he walked along it to great success, hardly ever soiling his patent boots even in bad weather. He was always broad-minded and often saw two things at once. He did not allow a medal to spoil him as a student, and used to celebrate the event of receiving one by entertaining the rowdiest. He always knew exactly when to stop and what steps to take when in difficulties. He could change a laugh into seriousness as quickly as thought. A smart man I well remember him to be, on all occasions. He could sing a song at a symposium or work out a scientific problem with equal zest. He has eminently succeeded in practice, and I am not in the least surprised.

Dr. Horace Harmless was a "good young man" as a student. He was a rara avis and was thought a great deal of by the Rev. Evercare, who knew medical students as a class to have a very bad name. He worked and never "wasted." Therefore he was as guileless and innocent when he qualified as when he left home for the first time. I lost sight of him for many years after he obtained his degree, and had never even heard of him until I received a post card from him one morning :

"Come and see me if you can: ill in bed and going to be operated on." I called at once and gave him comfort as far as I could. As I sat by his bedside we fell to talking about our careers since qualifying for medical practice, and he un

folded a story of his downfall which rather astonished me considering his clean history as a student. Temptations came thick upon him when he started in practice, and his spirits being elevated with success and the high opinion of his friends he gradually poured over, so to speak. There he was, in hospital, calmly contemplating his "unaccountable" misfortunes. He had fallen into the hands of the seductive, designing and unscrupulous. He had not learnt anything of the world as a student, and therefore did not know how to keep his elbows off the "wet paint " afterwards. He managed to make a living as a doctor, but nothing would ever make him the man the Rev. Evercare so frequently declared he deserved to be the great man he promised to be when a "goody-goody" student.

Martin Makepace was until recently a billiard marker somewhere in America. Now I hear he has improved considerably and is a dispenser in an East-End "Doctor's Shop." He did fairly well at school, but went headlong to the bad as a medical student. He was one of those fellows who could run evenly while someone had him in hand. He was a good boy while guided by masters, but once the reins were loosened he went hopelessly to the bad. At present he is quite reformed in character, as he really ought to be at forty. He now says he wishes he could begin again at twenty.

George Strangeless was formerly dux of his school, and captain of games. His is an astonishing case, and rather hard. to understand. He left school loaded with scholarships, but never afterwards passed a single medical examination. His career is almost exactly like that of another fellow, Frederick Noughton, who passed highly from school and was a good athlete too. Both these fellows did well in work and play, before they became medical students, but they did nothing but run to seed afterwards. They both lacked self-control and proper judgment. They could trot as steadily and speedily as

thoroughbreds while they had a good bit in their mouths, but once they felt their freedom and lost their rider they fouled barbed-wire at every turn. Many times they have nearly broken their necks down pitfalls. I need hardly tell you what these two men are doing now.

Dr. Edward Calling was, and is now in many respects, an interesting man. He seemed to do very little work as a student but always managed to "scrape through" his examinations. He took great interest in the world in general, and was very fond of acting as secretary or organiser when any club was started or any entertainment proposed. He is now Mayor and J.P., having a large general practice in a town where he has made himself extremely popular amongst all classes.

Dr. Henry Calmley is now practising at the Cape. He was a quiet student, and, although rather careless and indifferent, he passed his examinations at the proper time. He did nothing much in the way of practice for two years after qualifying, either as assistant or anything else, preferring to sport about the country. He was earnest, in a way, but never felt seriously disposed to practice his profession. Never a real waster, he was heavy and phlegmatic. When I bade him goodbye before sailing he said he hoped to get some good shooting if nothing else. When war broke out I heard he took a rifle and bandolier instead of surgical instruments into the fray. He joined Kitchener's Scouts and much preferred shooting Boers to practising military surgery. His father was a "gentleman," and had never been known to do anything in his life.

any examinations. They appeared to

Sharpe and Smith never got through Students' life seemed too much for them. be carried away by the slightest temptation. They both had brains of some sort and are now using them. Sharpe, although at the present time in England taking a holiday, has recently been touring as a lecturing quack and lightning tooth extractor

in the Antipodes. Smith is now acting as a highly-paid chemist's assistant in an English country town, having brought about the death of his disappointed parents, and the disgust of his brothers and sisters. He drinks.

Dr. Robert Changling was a student you could scarcely find much fault with; yet there was then, and is now, very little in him to praise. He went medium in everything and passed his examinations at the right time. His relatives were all very pleased with him, which made him still more pleased with himself. If they had not complimented him so much it would probably have been a great deal better for him. He seemed to consider that getting through his final examinations was tantamount to reaching the zenith of all things, so he settled down to listless and apathetic self-satisfaction, neither caring to practice nor in any way attempting to keep up his knowledge-but always, mind you, trying to give his friends and relatives the impression that he would do wonders if he only cared to practice. He lazed away like this for two years, then to satisfy some who began to think he was not really qualified, and others who were too often taunting him for not being "up to much, after all," he took an assistant's post. He had not been doing duty long before he began to develop the conviction that he knew more about the ins and outs of the profession than his chief did. His services were naturally soon dispensed with, and now he is assisting some company promoter, having denounced medicine as a "rotten profession." He is particularly fond of motor cars.

Dr. Arthur Blessan had rather a mixed experience before he became the sober practitioner he now is. Like myself, he fancied the world much better than books on medicine to begin with, and he did not write home such satisfactory accounts of his goings-on as his father thought he ought to do. The time came when letters became alarmingly scarce, and what few there were were noticed by his father to be folded down

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