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.
CONTAINING THE MOST MEMORABLE TRANSACTIONS WHICH PASSED
IN THE FAMILY
OF MR ALLWORTHY, FROM THE TIME WHEN TOMMY JONES ARRIVED
AT THE AGE OF
FOURTEEN, TILL HE ATTAINED THE AGE OF NINETEEN.
IN THIS BOOK THE
READER MAY PICK UP SOME HINTS CONCERNING THE EDUCATION
OF CHILDREN.
Containing little or nothing.
The reader will be pleased to remember, that, at the
beginning of the second book of this history, we gave
him a hint of our intention to pass over several large
periods of time, in which nothing happened worthy
of being recorded in a chronicle of this kind.
In so doing, we do not only consult our own dignity
and ease, but the good and advantage of the reader:
for besides that by these means we prevent him from
throwing away his time, in reading without either
pleasure or emolument, we give him, at all such seasons,
an opportunity of employing that wonderful sagacity,
of which he is master, by filling up these vacant
spaces of time with his own conjectures; for which
purpose we have taken care to qualify him in the preceding
pages.
