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We were relieved to hear that you were back in London – safe, as we laughably imagine, for a moment or two though I have no doubt you will be off again shortly on further explorations. Not that I personally think one would ever be so foolish to imagine that anyone was safe anywhere, and though medicine – or an aim to help in any way – would ensure a certain welcome, in fact of course people hate being helped. Unless of course it gives them a chance to ‘help’ themselves, preferably to the helper's goods – watch, stethoscope, camera, and even ideas if they can. At school we always preferred to rob the orchard of a professional apple grower than help ourselves to the windfalls of a generous farmer who allowed us to collect what we liked by invitation.
I used to be taught, but never learned, that what you did with money was save it. Your Auntie Edna was infinitely more sensible so she has a home of her own but has a nasty character – don't tell her. I have a beautiful nature but no cash. There is a moral in all this I am sure …
I hope you persuade someone to ‘qualify’ you soon as it can be quite useful. So, I find, can not being qualified: it is a bit anxiety-provoking but on the other hand it saves one the danger of thinking that someone loves us and is anxious for us to survive. There is a nice story of C. E. Montague's in which he tells of a beetle that was almost caught by a tortoise and had the bright idea of scuttling into the pursuer's carapace in which he remained secure waiting for better times. ‘Beneath the shadow of Thy wing Thy saints have dwelt secure’ is a hymn we used to sing; but I have only just thought of this possible in-security.
I have been mugging up the pharmacology of porphyrin – very appropriate to these times. Maybe it applies to Vietnam and wisdom to know whether to back the Vietcong or the U.S. The Great Powers, ‘Slow and solid that's him’ – can't curl but can swim – or ‘Stickly Prickly’.1
However, ‘good luck’, provided you don't believe in it. T