Chapter ix.

A proof of the infallibility of the foregoing receipt, in the

lamentations of the widow; with other suitable decorations of death,

such as physicians, &c., and an epitaph in the true stile.

Mr Allworthy, his sister, and another lady, were assembled at the

accustomed hour in the supper-room, where, having waited a

considerable time longer than usual, Mr Allworthy first declared he

began to grow uneasy at the captain's stay (for he was always most

punctual at his meals); and gave orders that the bell should be rung

without the doors, and especially towards those walks which the

captain was wont to use.

All these summons proving ineffectual (for the captain had, by

perverse accident, betaken himself to a new walk that evening), Mrs

Blifil declared she was seriously frightened. Upon which the other

lady, who was one of her most intimate acquaintance, and who well knew

the true state of her affections, endeavoured all she could to pacify

her, telling her--To be sure she could not help being uneasy; but that

she should hope the best. That, perhaps the sweetness of the evening

had inticed the captain to go farther than his usual walk: or he might

be detained at some neighbour's. Mrs Blifil answered, No; she was sure

some accident had befallen him; for that he would never stay out

without sending her word, as he must know how uneasy it would make

her. The other lady, having no other arguments to use, betook herself

to the entreaties usual on such occasions, and begged her not to

frighten herself, for it might be of very ill consequence to her own

health; and, filling out a very large glass of wine, advised, and at

last prevailed with her to drink it.

Mr Allworthy now returned into the parlour; for he had been himself in

search after the captain. His countenance sufficiently showed the

consternation he was under, which, indeed, had a good deal deprived

him of speech; but as grief operates variously on different minds, so

the same apprehension which depressed his voice, elevated that of Mrs

Blifil. She now began to bewail herself in very bitter terms, and

floods of tears accompanied her lamentations; which the lady, her

companion, declared she could not blame, but at the same time

dissuaded her from indulging; attempting to moderate the grief of her

friend by philosophical observations on the many disappointments to

which human life is daily subject, which, she said, was a sufficient

consideration to fortify our minds against any accidents, how sudden

or terrible soever. She said her brother's example ought to teach her

patience, who, though indeed he could not be supposed as much

concerned as herself, yet was, doubtless, very uneasy, though his

resignation to the Divine will had restrained his grief within due

bounds.

“Mention not my brother,” said Mrs Blifil; “I alone am the object of

your pity. What are the terrors of friendship to what a wife feels on

these occasions? Oh, he is lost! Somebody hath murdered him--I shall

never see him more!”--Here a torrent of tears had the same consequence

with what the suppression had occasioned to Mr Allworthy, and she

remained silent.

At this interval a servant came running in, out of breath, and cried

out, The captain was found; and, before he could proceed farther, he

was followed by two more, bearing the dead body between them.

Here the curious reader may observe another diversity in the

operations of grief: for as Mr Allworthy had been before silent, from

the same cause which had made his sister vociferous; so did the

present sight, which drew tears from the gentleman, put an entire stop

to those of the lady; who first gave a violent scream, and presently

after fell into a fit.

The room was soon full of servants, some of whom, with the lady

visitant, were employed in care of the wife; and others, with Mr

Allworthy, assisted in carrying off the captain to a warm bed; where

every method was tried, in order to restore him to life.

And glad should we be, could we inform the reader that both these

bodies had been attended with equal success; for those who undertook

the care of the lady succeeded so well, that, after the fit had

continued a decent time, she again revived, to their great

satisfaction: but as to the captain, all experiments of bleeding,

chafing, dropping, &c., proved ineffectual. Death, that inexorable

judge, had passed sentence on him, and refused to grant him a

reprieve, though two doctors who arrived, and were fee'd at one and

the same instant, were his counsel.

These two doctors, whom, to avoid any malicious applications, we shall

distinguish by the names of Dr Y. and Dr Z., having felt his pulse; to

wit, Dr Y. his right arm, and Dr Z. his left; both agreed that he was

absolutely dead; but as to the distemper, or cause of his death, they

differed; Dr Y. holding that he died of an apoplexy, and Dr Z. of an

epilepsy.

Hence arose a dispute between the learned men, in which each delivered

the reasons of their several opinions. These were of such equal force,

that they served both to confirm either doctor in his own sentiments,

and made not the least impression on his adversary.

To say the truth, every physician almost hath his favourite disease,

to which he ascribes all the victories obtained over human nature. The

gout, the rheumatism, the stone, the gravel, and the consumption, have

all their several patrons in the faculty; and none more than the

nervous fever, or the fever on the spirits. And here we may account

for those disagreements in opinion, concerning the cause of a

patient's death, which sometimes occur, between the most learned of

the college; and which have greatly surprized that part of the world

who have been ignorant of the fact we have above asserted.

The reader may perhaps be surprized, that, instead of endeavouring to

revive the patient, the learned gentlemen should fall immediately into

a dispute on the occasion of his death; but in reality all such

experiments had been made before their arrival: for the captain was

put into a warm bed, had his veins scarified, his forehead chafed, and

all sorts of strong drops applied to his lips and nostrils.

The physicians, therefore, finding themselves anticipated in

everything they ordered, were at a loss how to apply that portion of

time which it is usual and decent to remain for their fee, and were

therefore necessitated to find some subject or other for discourse;

and what could more naturally present itself than that before

mentioned?

Our doctors were about to take their leave, when Mr Allworthy, having

given over the captain, and acquiesced in the Divine will, began to

enquire after his sister, whom he desired them to visit before their

departure.

This lady was now recovered of her fit, and, to use the common phrase,

as well as could be expected for one in her condition. The doctors,

therefore, all previous ceremonies being complied with, as this was a

new patient, attended, according to desire, and laid hold on each of

her hands, as they had before done on those of the corpse.

The case of the lady was in the other extreme from that of her

husband: for as he was past all the assistance of physic, so in

reality she required none.

There is nothing more unjust than the vulgar opinion, by which

physicians are misrepresented, as friends to death. On the contrary, I

believe, if the number of those who recover by physic could be opposed

to that of the martyrs to it, the former would rather exceed the

latter. Nay, some are so cautious on this head, that, to avoid a

possibility of killing the patient, they abstain from all methods of

curing, and prescribe nothing but what can neither do good nor harm. I

have heard some of these, with great gravity, deliver it as a maxim,

“That Nature should be left to do her own work, while the physician

stands by as it were to clap her on the back, and encourage her when

she doth well.”

So little then did our doctors delight in death, that they discharged

the corpse after a single fee; but they were not so disgusted with

their living patient; concerning whose case they immediately agreed,

and fell to prescribing with great diligence.

Whether, as the lady had at first persuaded her physicians to believe

her ill, they had now, in return, persuaded her to believe herself so,

I will not determine; but she continued a whole month with all the

decorations of sickness. During this time she was visited by

physicians, attended by nurses, and received constant messages from

her acquaintance to enquire after her health.

At length the decent time for sickness and immoderate grief being

expired, the doctors were discharged, and the lady began to see

company; being altered only from what she was before, by that colour

of sadness in which she had dressed her person and countenance.

The captain was now interred, and might, perhaps, have already made a

large progress towards oblivion, had not the friendship of Mr

Allworthy taken care to preserve his memory, by the following epitaph,

which was written by a man of as great genius as integrity, and one

who perfectly well knew the captain.

HERE LIES,

IN EXPECTATION OF A JOYFUL RISING,

THE BODY OF

CAPTAIN JOHN BLIFIL.

LONDON

HAD THE HONOUR OF HIS BIRTH,

OXFORD

OF HIS EDUCATION.

HIS PARTS

WERE AN HONOUR TO HIS PROFESSION

AND TO HIS COUNTRY:

HIS LIFE, TO HIS RELIGION

AND HUMAN NATURE.

HE WAS A DUTIFUL SON,

A TENDER HUSBAND,

AN AFFECTIONATE FATHER,

A MOST KIND BROTHER,

A SINCERE FRIEND,

A DEVOUT CHRISTIAN,

AND A GOOD MAN.

HIS INCONSOLABLE WIDOW

HATH ERECTED THIS STONE,

THE MONUMENT OF

HIS VIRTUES

AND OF HER AFFECTION.