Chapter vii.
In which Mr Allworthy appears on a sick-bed.
Mr Western was become so fond of Jones that he was unwilling to partwith him, though his arm had been long since cured; and Jones, eitherfrom the love of sport, or from some other reason, was easilypersuaded to continue at his house, which he did sometimes for afortnight together without paying a single visit at Mr Allworthy's;nay, without ever hearing from thence.
Mr Allworthy had been for some days indisposed with a cold, which hadbeen attended with a little fever. This he had, however, neglected; asit was usual with him to do all manner of disorders which did notconfine him to his bed, or prevent his several faculties fromperforming their ordinary functions;--a conduct which we would by nomeans be thought to approve or recommend to imitation; for surely thegentlemen of the Aesculapian art are in the right in advising, thatthe moment the disease has entered at one door, the physician shouldbe introduced at the other: what else is meant by that old adage,_Venienti occurrite morbo?_ "Oppose a distemper at its firstapproach." Thus the doctor and the disease meet in fair and equalconflict; whereas, by giving time to the latter, we often suffer himto fortify and entrench himself, like a French army; so that thelearned gentleman finds it very difficult, and sometimes impossible,to come at the enemy. Nay, sometimes by gaining time the diseaseapplies to the French military politics, and corrupts nature over tohis side, and then all the powers of physic must arrive too late.Agreeable to these observations was, I remember, the complaint of thegreat Doctor Misaubin, who used very pathetically to lament the lateapplications which were made to his skill, saying, "Bygar, me believemy pation take me for de undertaker, for dey never send for me till dephysicion have kill dem."
Mr Allworthy's distemper, by means of this neglect, gained suchground, that, when the increase of his fever obliged him to send forassistance, the doctor at his first arrival shook his head, wished hehad been sent for sooner, and intimated that he thought him in veryimminent danger. Mr Allworthy, who had settled all his affairs in thisworld, and was as well prepared as it is possible for human nature tobe for the other, received this information with the utmost calmnessand unconcern. He could, indeed, whenever he laid himself down torest, say with Cato in the tragical poem--
Let guilt or fear Disturb man's rest: Cato knows neither of them; Indifferent in his choice to sleep or die.
In reality, he could say this with ten times more reason andconfidence than Cato, or any other proud fellow among the antient ormodern heroes; for he was not only devoid of fear, but might beconsidered as a faithful labourer, when at the end of harvest he issummoned to receive his reward at the hands of a bountiful master.
The good man gave immediate orders for all his family to be summonedround him. None of these were then abroad, but Mrs Blifil, who hadbeen some time in London, and Mr Jones, whom the reader hath justparted from at Mr Western's, and who received this summons just asSophia had left him.
The news of Mr Allworthy's danger (for the servant told him he wasdying) drove all thoughts of love out of his head. He hurriedinstantly into the chariot which was sent for him, and ordered thecoachman to drive with all imaginable haste; nor did the idea ofSophia, I believe, once occur to him on the way.
And now the whole family, namely, Mr Blifil, Mr Jones, Mr Thwackum, MrSquare, and some of the servants (for such were Mr Allworthy's orders)being all assembled round his bed, the good man sat up in it, and wasbeginning to speak, when Blifil fell to blubbering, and began toexpress very loud and bitter lamentations. Upon this Mr Allworthyshook him by the hand, and said, "Do not sorrow thus, my dear nephew,at the most ordinary of all human occurrences. When misfortunes befalour friends we are justly grieved; for those are accidents which mightoften have been avoided, and which may seem to render the lot of oneman more peculiarly unhappy than that of others; but death iscertainly unavoidable, and is that common lot in which alone thefortunes of all men agree: nor is the time when this happens to usvery material. If the wisest of men hath compared life to a span,surely we may be allowed to consider it as a day. It is my fate toleave it in the evening; but those who are taken away earlier haveonly lost a few hours, at the best little worth lamenting, and muchoftener hours of labour and fatigue, of pain and sorrow. One of theRoman poets, I remember, likens our leaving life to our departure froma feast;--a thought which hath often occurred to me when I have seenmen struggling to protract an entertainment, and to enjoy the companyof their friends a few moments longer. Alas! how short is the mostprotracted of such enjoyments! how immaterial the difference betweenhim who retires the soonest, and him who stays the latest! This isseeing life in the best view, and this unwillingness to quit ourfriends is the most amiable motive from which we can derive the fearof death; and yet the longest enjoyment which we can hope for of thiskind is of so trivial a duration, that it is to a wise man trulycontemptible. Few men, I own, think in this manner; for, indeed, fewmen think of death till they are in its jaws. However gigantic andterrible an object this may appear when it approaches them, they arenevertheless incapable of seeing it at any distance; nay, though theyhave been ever so much alarmed and frightened when they haveapprehended themselves in danger of dying, they are no sooner clearedfrom this apprehension than even the fears of it are erased from theirminds. But, alas! he who escapes from death is not pardoned; he isonly reprieved, and reprieved to a short day.
"Grieve, therefore, no more, my dear child, on this occasion: an eventwhich may happen every hour; which every element, nay, almost everyparticle of matter that surrounds us is capable of producing, andwhich must and will most unavoidably reach us all at last, oughtneither to occasion our surprize nor our lamentation.
"My physician having acquainted me (which I take very kindly of him)that I am in danger of leaving you all very shortly, I have determinedto say a few words to you at this our parting, before my distemper,which I find grows very fast upon me, puts it out of my power.
"But I shall waste my strength too much. I intended to speakconcerning my will, which, though I have settled long ago, I thinkproper to mention such heads of it as concern any of you, that I mayhave the comfort of perceiving you are all satisfied with theprovision I have there made for you.
"Nephew Blifil, I leave you the heir to my whole estate, except onlyL500 a-year, which is to revert to you after the death of your mother,and except one other estate of L500 a-year, and the sum of L6000,which I have bestowed in the following manner:
"The estate of L500 a-year I have given to you, Mr Jones: and as Iknow the inconvenience which attends the want of ready money, I haveadded L1000 in specie. In this I know not whether I have exceeded orfallen short of your expectation. Perhaps you will think I have givenyou too little, and the world will be as ready to condemn me forgiving you too much; but the latter censure I despise; and as to theformer, unless you should entertain that common error which I haveoften heard in my life pleaded as an excuse for a total want ofcharity, namely, that instead of raising gratitude by voluntary actsof bounty, we are apt to raise demands, which of all others are themost boundless and most difficult to satisfy.--Pardon me the baremention of this; I will not suspect any such thing."
Jones flung himself at his benefactor's feet, and taking eagerly holdof his hand, assured him his goodness to him, both now and all othertimes, had so infinitely exceeded not only his merit but his hopes,that no words could express his sense of it. "And I assure you, sir,"said he, "your present generosity hath left me no other concern thanfor the present melancholy occasion. Oh, my friend, my father!" Herehis words choaked him, and he turned away to hide a tear which wasstarting from his eyes.
Allworthy then gently squeezed his hand, and proceeded thus: "I amconvinced, my child, that you have much goodness, generosity, andhonour, in your temper: if you will add prudence and religion tothese, you must be happy; for the three former qualities, I admit,make you worthy of happiness, but they are the latter only which willput you in possession of it.
&n
bsp; "One thousand pound I have given to you, Mr Thwackum; a sum I amconvinced which greatly exceeds your desires, as well as your wants.However, you will receive it as a memorial of my friendship; andwhatever superfluities may redound to you, that piety which you sorigidly maintain will instruct you how to dispose of them.
"A like sum, Mr Square, I have bequeathed to you. This, I hope, willenable you to pursue your profession with better success thanhitherto. I have often observed with concern, that distress is moreapt to excite contempt than commiseration, especially among men ofbusiness, with whom poverty is understood to indicate want of ability.But the little I have been able to leave you will extricate you fromthose difficulties with which you have formerly struggled; and then Idoubt not but you will meet with sufficient prosperity to supply whata man of your philosophical temper will require.
"I find myself growing faint, so I shall refer you to my will for mydisposition of the residue. My servants will there find some tokens toremember me by; and there are a few charities which, I trust, myexecutors will see faithfully performed. Bless you all. I am settingout a little before you."--
Here a footman came hastily into the room, and said there was anattorney from Salisbury who had a particular message, which he said hemust communicate to Mr Allworthy himself: that he seemed in a violenthurry, and protested he had so much business to do, that, if he couldcut himself into four quarters, all would not be sufficient.
"Go, child," said Allworthy to Blifil, "see what the gentleman wants.I am not able to do any business now, nor can he have any with me, inwhich you are not at present more concerned than myself. Besides, Ireally am--I am incapable of seeing any one at present, or of anylonger attention." He then saluted them all, saying, perhaps he shouldbe able to see them again, but he should be now glad to composehimself a little, finding that he had too much exhausted his spiritsin discourse.
Some of the company shed tears at their parting; and even thephilosopher Square wiped his eyes, albeit unused to the melting mood.As to Mrs Wilkins, she dropt her pearls as fast as the Arabian treestheir medicinal gums; for this was a ceremonial which that gentlewomannever omitted on a proper occasion.
After this Mr Allworthy again laid himself down on his pillow, andendeavoured to compose himself to rest.
History of Tom Jones, a Foundling Page 55
