CHAF, xxin. THE DOCTOR. 407 



blessedness of the relief one feels when the disease from 

 which he has been suffering is passing away. 



" The fever has got a check, and from this time forth 

 a new life will dawn upon me. I have got relief in my 

 gasping for breath, and I can now lie in my bed at night 

 until I choose to rise. I still moan and complain a great 

 deal in my sleep, but I don't get outrageous and wild, 

 frightening the old woman, puir body ! Indeed, I am 

 a good deal better, and though quite impatient under 

 this dire affliction, and at times almost hopeless, I still, 

 upon the whole, cherish the hope of ultimate recovery." 



But he hoped against hope. Death had laid hold of 

 him. Dr. Shearer says the disease of which he died was 

 aneurism, leading to cardiac complication and dropsy 

 a disease to which his laborious calling and extraordinary 

 exertions in travelling and climbing rocks and mountains 

 would particularly predispose him. 



His housekeeper pressed him to send for the doctor. 

 " No," said he, " no doctor. If I am to die, then I must 

 die." In fact, he did not care very much for doctors. 

 He thought their " cures " were very much the result 

 of happy guessing. " If it has taken me," he said, " a 

 lifetime to ascertain the nature of plants and animals, 

 is it likely that a four years' curriculum can fit any man 

 to comprehend the mysterious processes of the living 

 human body?" Besides, there was the expense of 

 calling in a doctor ! 



At length, after he had been seriously ill for about 

 two months, his friend, Mr. John Miller of London, came 

 down to Thurso and called upon Dick. He was amazed 



