Life In London
I must not try to tell all how the Lord was pleased to help me from time to time. To my surprise and great joy, it happened often. I soon found that it was not possible to live on as little money in London as it was in Hull.
To cut costs, a cousin and I rented one room and lived together, four miles from the hospital. In preparing my food, I tried different things. I found that eating brown bread and water would save a considerable amount of my wages.
In this way, I was able to make God’s money last as long as possible. Some of my living costs could not be reduced, but my choice of food enabled me to save some money. Each day on my long walk home from the hospital, I bought a large piece of brown bread for two pennies.
On that food and a little fruit for lunch, I walked eight or nine miles a day and was on my feet much of the time at the hospital and medical school.
By getting his half-pay monthly and sending it to her, I was able to save her the cost that the bank would charge.
I had been doing this for several months when she wrote asking that I get the next payment as early as possible, as her rent was almost due. She depended upon that amount to pay it. By working hard for a test, I was hoping to get a gift for school fees which would help me. I was unwilling to waste time by going to the city during the busiest part of the day.
I had enough of my own money to send what she needed. So, I sent it to her, planning to go later and get her money and repay myself. Before the test, the medical school was closed for a day to mark the funeral of the Duke of Wellington.
This gave me a chance to go to the office near Cheapside and collect the pay. To my unhappy surprise, the man at the office told me that he could not pay it, because the officer had run away from his ship and gone to dig for gold. “Well,” I said, “that is not good at all for me because I have already sent the money. I know his wife will have no way -to pay me back.”
The man at the office said he was sorry but could only do as he was told. There was no help for me in that direction. A little more time and prayer brought the peaceful thought to my mind that I was depending on the Lord for everything. His ways were not limited.
It was a small thing to be brought into the position of bringing my needs to Him. The happiness and peace in my heart were not troubled for very long.
Soon after this, while putting together some writing paper for school, I accidentally stuck the first finger of my right hand.
However, the pain soon went away and I forgot all about it. The next day at the hospital I continued to operate as before. A person had died of a dangerous sickness that caused high temperature. The body was more than usually offensive and dangerous.
Those who worked upon it operated with special care, knowing that the smallest cut might cost our lives. Before the morning was half over, I began to feel very tired. At about noon, I had to run out to throw up.
This was most unusual for me, as I ate little food and nothing that could make me sick. Feeling very weak for some time, I found a drink of cold water helped me to feel better, enabling me to return to work.
Yet, the sickness increased and before the afternoon class was over, I found it impossible to continue taking notes. Before long, there was severe pain in my whole arm and right side. I was becoming very sick.
Unable to continue work, I went into the operating room to close up the body I was working on and put away my tools. I advised the teacher, a skilled surgeon that I was sick but was not sure of the cause. He told me that I had cut myself. To my surprise, he said that I had caught the sickness that killed the person on which I had been operating.
I told him that I had been most careful and was very certain that I had no cut or broken skin. “Well,” he said, “you certainly must have had one.” He looked very closely at my hand but found no break in my skin.
Then, I recalled that I had stuck my finger the night before and asked if it were possible that this wound could still have been open. He confirmed that this was the probable cause ofthe trouble. He advised that I get home as fast as I could to close my business. “For,” he said, “you are a dead man.”
I was hit with a feeling of sorrow that I could not go to China. Yet, very soon came the feeling, that unless I was greatly mistaken, I had work to do in China and would not die. I talked to this medical friend, who did not believe in God or spiritual things.
I talked of happiness in the possibility of soon being with my Master. I expressed the belief that I would not die. Unless I were much mistaken, I had work to do in China and must not lose the battle.
“That is all very well,” he answered, “but you get a hansom0 and go home as fast as you can. You have no time to lose, for you will soon be unable to finish up your business.” I smiled at the idea of going home in a hansom.
By this time there was too little of my money left to allow such a thing. So, I tried to walk home. It was not long before my strength gave way and it was useless to attempt to continue. I rode on a large bus from Whitechapel Church to Farringdon Street and another from Farringdon Street toward home.
In great suffering, I reached my home near Soho Square. Immediately, I got some hot water from the servant. I was as direct as my coming death would allow. Speaking to her very strongly, I advised her to accept salvation through Jesus Christ as the gift of God.
Pouring water over my head, I cut open the finger, hoping to let out some of the poisoned blood. The pain was very severe and I passed out for some time. On waking, I found that I had been carried to bed.
I had an uncle who lived nearby. He came in and sent for his doctor, an assistant surgeon at the Westminster Hospital. I told him that medical help would be of little use to me: I did not wish to spend the money that it would cost.
He quieted me on this point, saying that he had sent for his doctor and he would pay the bill. The surgeon examined me and said, “Well, if you have been living a clean life and without rich foods, you may pull through. But if you have been going in for strong drinks and that sort of thing, there would be no chance at all for you.”
I thought that if a clean life without rich food was to do anything, few could have a better chance. Little more than bread and water had been my only food for a long time. I told him I had lived very much that way and found that it helped my study.
“But now,” he said, “you must keep up your strength, for it will be a very hard battle.” He said I needed a bottle of port wine every day and as much good meat as I could eat.
Again I smiled to myself, having no money to buy such rich food. This difficulty was met by my kind uncle who immediately sent me all that was needed.
I was in great pain but still did not want my parents to know that I was sick. Thinking and praying about it caused me to believe that I was not going to die because there truly was work for me to do in China.
If my parents came up and found me in that condition, I would lose the chance to see how God was going to work for me, now that my money had almost come to an end.
After prayer for guidance, my uncle and cousin promised not to write to them, but to let me inform them myself. I felt it was a very clear answer to prayer when they gave me this promise.
I took care to wait until the crisis was well past and the most severe part of the sickness was over. Only then did I let them know. At home, they knew that I was working hard for a test and did not wonder at my silence.
Days and nights of suffering passed slowly by. After several weeks, I was strong enough to leave my room. I learned that two men working at another hospital had died of this same kind of sickness. I had been protected in answer to prayer to work for God in China.