d live with him
(little did we think him so very near to his end): and so I will proceed
to tell thee, that when I arrived at his house on Saturday night, I found
him excessively ill: but just raised, and in his elbow-chair, held up by
his nurse and Mowbray (the roughest and most untouched creature that ever
entered a sick man's chamber); while the maid-servants were trying to
make that bed easier for him which he was to return to; his mind ten
times uneasier than that could be, and the true cause that the down was
no softer to him.

He had so much longed to see me, as I was told by his sister, (whom I
sent for down to inquire how he was,) that they all rejoiced when I
entered: Here, said Mowbray, here, Tommy, is honest Jack Belford!

Where, where? said the poor man.

I hear his voice, cried Mowbray: he is coming up stairs.

In a transport of joy, he would have raised himself at my entrance, but
had like to have pitched out of the chair: and when recovered, called me
his best friend! his kindest friend! but burst into a flood of tears: O
Jack! O Belford! said he, see the way I am in! See how weak! So much,
and so soon reduced! Do you know me? Do you know your poor friend
Belton?

You are not so much altered, my dear Belton, as you think you are. But I
see you are weak; very weak--and I am sorry for it.

Weak, weak, indeed, my dearest Belford, said he, and weaker in mind, if
possible, than in body; and wept bitterly--or I should not thus unman
myself. I, who never feared any thing, to be forced to show myself such
a nursling!--I am quite ashamed of myself!--But don't despise me; dear
Belford, don't despise me, I beseech thee.

I ever honoured a man that could weep for the distresses of others; and
ever shall, said I; and such a one cannot be insensible of his own.

However, I could not help being visibly moved at the poor fellow's emotion.

Now, said the brutal Mowbray, do I think thee insufferable, Jack. Our
poor friend is already a peg too low; and here thou art letting him down
lower and lower still. This soothing of him in his dejected moments, and
joining thy womanish tears with his, is not the way; I am sure it is not.
If our Lovelace were here, he'd tell thee so.

Thou art an impenetrable creature, replied I; unfit to be present at a
scene, the terrors of which thou wilt not be able to feel till thou
feelest them in thyself; and then, if thou hadst time for feeling, my
life for thine, thou behav