and to speak as much but not so distinctly, till at
last the phlegm getting the mastery of him, and he
beginning as we thought to rattle, I had no mind to
see him die, as we thought he presently would, and
so withdrew and led Mrs. Turner home, but before I
came back, which was in half a quarter of an hour,
my brother was dead. I went up and found the
nurse holding his eyes shut, and he poor wretch lying
with his chops fallen, a most sad sight, and that
which put me into a present very great transport of
grief and cries, and indeed it was a most sad sight
to see the poor wretch lie now still and dead, and
pale like a stone. I staid till he was almost
cold, while Mrs. Croxton, Holden, and the rest did
strip and lay him out, they observing his corpse, as
they told me afterwards, to be as clear as any they
ever saw, and so this was the end of my poor brother,
continuing talking idle and his lips working even to
his last that his phlegm hindered his breathing, and
at last his breath broke out bringing a flood of phlegm
and stuff out with it, and so he died. This
evening he talked among other talk a great deal of
French very plain and good, as, among others:
’quand un homme boit quand il n’a poynt
d’inclination a boire il ne luy fait jamais de
bien.’ I once begun to tell him something
of his condition, and asked him whither he thought
he should go. He in distracted manner answered
me—“Why, whither should I go? there
are but two ways: If I go, to the bad way I must
give God thanks for it, and if I go the other way
I must give God the more thanks for it; and I hope
I have not been so undutifull and unthankfull in my
life but I hope I shall go that way.”
This was all the sense, good or bad, that I could
get of him this day. I left my wife to see him
laid out, and I by coach home carrying my brother’s
papers, all I could find, with me, and having wrote
a letter to, my father telling him what hath been said
I returned by coach, it being very late, and dark,
to my brother’s, but all being gone, the corpse
laid out, and my wife at Mrs. Turner’s, I thither,
and there after an hour’s talk, we up to bed,
my wife and I in the little blue chamber, and I lay
close to my wife, being full of disorder and grief
for my brother that I could not sleep nor wake with
satisfaction, at last I slept till 5 or 6 o’clock.
16th. And then I rose and up, leaving my wife in bed, and to my brother’s, where I set them on cleaning the house, and my wife coming anon to look after things, I up and down to my cozen Stradwicke’s and uncle Fenner’s about discoursing for the funeral, which I am resolved to put off till Friday next. Thence home and trimmed myself, and then to the ’Change, and told my uncle Wight of my brother’s death, and so by coach to my cozen Turner’s and there dined very well, but my wife . . . . in great pain we were forced to rise in some disorder, and in Mrs. Turner’s coach carried her home and put her to bed. Then back again with my cozen Norton to Mrs. Turner’s, and there