in a day. My consumptive tendencies, moreover, were far less
exhausting and trying. In a word, I was better. The Rubicon was already
passed. I did not, indeed, expect to get entirely well, for this would
have been a hope too big for me. But I should not die, I thought,
immediately. Drowning men, as you know, catch at straws; and this is a
wise arrangement, for otherwise they would not often be saved by planks.

One point, at least, I had gained. I was emancipated from slavery to
external forms, especially medicated forms. But I had not only declared
and found myself able to maintain independence of medicine, but I had
acquired much confidence in nature and nature's laws. And this faith in
the recuperative powers of nature was worth more to me than worlds would
have been without it.

Much was said, in those days, not only in books but by certain learned
professors, about shaking off pulmonary consumption on horseback.
Whether, indeed, this had often been done--for it is not easy, in the
case of a joint application of various restorative agencies, such as
air, light, full mental occupation etc., to give to each agency its just
due--I am not quite prepared to say. But as soon as I was able to ride
on horseback several miles a day, the question was agitated whether it
was or was not advisable.

In prosecuting this inquiry, another question came up. How would it do,
thought I, to commence at once the practice of medicine? But
difficulties almost innumerable--some of them apparently
insurmountable--lay in my way. Among the rest, I had no confidence in my
medical knowledge or tact; I was a better school-master. But teaching,
as I had every reason to fear, would bring me down again, and I could
not think of that: whereas the practice of medicine, on horseback, which
at that time and in that region was not wholly out of date, might, as I
thought, prove quite congenial.

Besides being "fearful and unbelieving" in the matter, I was still in
the depths of poverty. I had not even five dollars. In fact, during my
excursion already described, I had lived on a few ounces of solid food
and a little milk or ale each day, in order to eke out my almost
exhausted finances; though, by the way, I do not know but I owed my
partial final recovery in no small degree to this very starvation
system. However, to become a practising physician, money would be
indispensable, more or less. What could be done without it? My father
had credit, and co