metaphysics, and the very thought of dwelling on the physical structure of the body and its various ailments filled me with disgust.
So I resolutely tried for weeks to put the idea suggested by my friend away; but it constantly recurred to me.
Other circumstances forced upon me the necessity of devoting myself to some absorbing occupation. I became impatient of the disturbing influence exercised by the other sex. I had always been extremely susceptible to this influence. I never remember the time from my first adoration, at seven years old, of a little boy with rosy cheeks and flaxen curls when I had not suffered more or less from the common malady—falling in love. But whenever I became sufficiently intimate with any individual to be able to realise what a life association might mean, I shrank from the prospect, disappointed or repelled.
I find in my journal of that time the following sentence, written during an acute attack:—
I felt more determined than ever to become a physician,
and thus place a strong barrier between me and all ordinary
marriage. I must have something to engross my
thoughts, some object in life which will fill this vacuum
and prevent this sad wearing away of the heart.
But the struggle with natural repugnance to the
medical line of life was so strong that I hesitated to
pass the Rubicon, and fought many a severe battle
with myself on the subject.
At this time I had not the slightest idea of how to become a physician, or of the course of study
