1837- -3*. A TROUBLED NIGHT. 155 



two, which proved my views, and, in short, before the week was 

 done, I had proved my point, beyond the possibility of contra- 

 diction. 



" Samuel Brown recommends me to speak to Christison to get 

 it put in the Koyal Society's Transactions. I intend doing so 

 to-morrow. I was only kept by a dread of seeming to over- 

 value the matter, and especially by an unwillingness to seem 

 courting patronage ; but I'll see him, and be guided by his con- 

 duct to me. 



" I am extremely tired and sleepy, so excuse the remaining 

 blank paper." 



An extract from a letter to his sister gives a specimen of his 

 medical practice and its unwelcomeness to his tastes. 



" MY DEAR MARY, You should long before this have heard 

 from me had not a succession of engrossing cares so occupied 

 my time, that it was impossible for me to do almost anything. 

 John Mven left me last Monday, and now I am relying on my 

 own resources, and fighting away most horribly, at the Dis- 

 pensary. I purposed writing you two nights ago, but on the 

 morning of Wednesday, I was awakened at six o'clock, and 

 hurried away to the Dean Bridge, to see an afflicted woman ; 

 all day I was kept running after her, and night brought me no 

 - rest, for I was liable to be summoned at any hour. I lay down 

 on the sofa, wrapped in my Mackintosh cloak, a little Camlet 

 covering of James's on my feet, my head being cased in a good 

 white cowl ; but I soon got cold, and I whipped off my boots, 

 and laid me without undressing under the bed-clothes. This 

 was at one o'clock. I slept ill, thought every minute I was 

 hearing the door-bell ring started up, and awoke fairly at four 

 o'clock fell asleep again, and awoke finally at six dressed, 

 read till breakfast, and then walked out to see my patient, to 

 find my trouble misplaced, seeing they had called in another 

 doctor, as they did not like to send to such a distance. A wee 

 bairn's voice was the first thing that saluted my ears, and I saw 

 its little red face peeping from below the quilt. The mother's 

 name was Mrs. King ; and willing to prove my skill in logic, 

 if not in physic, I observed that a King's daughter must be a 



