because the liquids which he useth to prescribe to
himself and his patients, on these distressing occasions,
are ordinarily more conveniently to be found at these
common hostelries, than in the shops and phials of
the apothecaries. His ear hath arrived to such
finesse by practice, that it is reported, he can distinguish
a plunge at a half furlong distance; and can tell,
if it be casual or deliberate. He weareth a medal,
suspended over a suit, originally of a sad brown,
but which, by time, and frequency of nightly divings,
has been dinged into a true professional sable.
He passeth by the name of Doctor, and is remarkable
for wanting his left eye. His remedy—after
a sufficient application of warm blankets, friction,
&c., is a simple tumbler, or more, of the purest Cognac,
with water, made as hot as the convalescent can bear
it. Where he findeth, as in the case of my friend,
a squeamish subject, he condescendeth to be the taster;
and showeth, by his own example, the innocuous nature
of the prescription. Nothing can be more kind
or encouraging than this procedure. It addeth
confidence to the patient, to see his medical adviser
go hand in hand with himself in the remedy. When
the doctor swalloweth his own draught, what peevish
invalid can refuse to pledge him in the potion?
In fine, MONOCULUS is a humane, sensible man, who,
for a slender pittance, scarce enough to sustain life,
is content to wear it out in the endeavour to save
the lives of others—his pretensions so
moderate, that with difficulty I could press a crown
upon him, for the price of restoring the existence
of such an invaluable creature to society as G.D.
It was pleasant to observe the effect of the subsiding
alarm upon the nerves of the dear absentee. It
seemed to have given a shake to memory, calling up
notice after notice, of all the providential deliverances
he had experienced in the course of his long and innocent
life. Sitting up in my couch—my couch
which, naked and void of furniture hitherto, for the
salutary repose which it administered, shall be honoured
with costly valance, at some price, and henceforth
be a state-bed at Colebrooke,—he discoursed
of marvellous escapes—by carelessness of
nurses—by pails of gelid, and kettles of
the boiling element, in infancy—by orchard
pranks, and snapping twigs, in schoolboy frolics—by
descent of tiles at Trumpington, and of heavier tomes
at Pembroke—by studious watchings, inducing
frightful vigilance—by want, and the fear
of want, and all the sore throbbings of the learned
head.—Anon, he would burst out into little
fragments of chaunting—of songs long ago—ends
of deliverance-hymns, not remembered before since
childhood, but coming up now, when his heart was made
tender as a child’s—for the tremor
cordis, in the retrospect of a recent deliverance,
as in a case of impending danger, acting upon an innocent
heart, will produce a self-tenderness, which we should
do ill to christen cowardice; and Shakspeare, in the
latter crisis, has made his good Sir Hugh to remember
the sitting by Babylon, and to mutter of shallow rivers.