LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 115 



Symptoms of slowly approaching dissolution now became visible. 

 Having settled with my solicitor all affairs betwixt myself and the 

 world, and with my Father Confessor betwixt myself and my Maker, 

 nothing remained but to receive the final catastrophe with Christian 

 resignation. But though I lay insensible with hiccups and subsultus 

 tendimim for fifteen long hours, I at last opened my eyes, and gradu- 

 ally arose from my expected ruin. 



" I must now say a word or two of the externals damaged by the 

 fall with the ladder. Notwithstanding the best surgical skill, my 

 arm shewed the appearance of stiff and withered deformity at the 

 end of three months from the accident. And now my general state 

 of health was not as it ought to be; for incessant pain prevented 

 sleep, whilst food itself did little good. But my slumbers were 

 strangely affected. I was eternally fighting wild beasts, with a club 

 in one hand, the other being bound up at my breast. Nine bull-dogs 

 one night attacked me on the highroad, some of them having the head 

 of a crocodile. I had now serious thoughts of having the arm am- 

 putated. This operation was fully resolved upon, when luckily, the 

 advice of my trusty gamekeeper, John Ogden, rendered it unneces- 

 sary. One morning, ' Master/ said he to me, ' I 'm sure you 're going 

 to the grave. You '11 die to a certainty. Let me go for our old 

 bone-setter. He cured me, long ago and perhaps he can cure you. 7 

 It was on the 25th of March, then, #//<zs Lady-day, which every Catholic 

 in the universe knows is a solemn festival in honour of the Blessed 

 Virgin, that I had an interview with Mr Joseph Crowther, the well- 

 known bone-setter, whose family has exercised the art, from father to 

 son, time out of mind. On viewing my poor remnant of an arm 

 'your wrist,' said he, 'is sorely injured; a callus having formed be- 

 twixt the hand and the arm. The elbow is out of joint, and the shoulder 

 somewhat driven forwards. This last affair will prevent your raising 

 the arm to your head/ Melancholy look-out ! ' But, can you cure 

 me, doctor,' said I ? ' Yes/ replied he, firmly ; ' only let me have 

 my own way/ ' Then take the arm, and with it take elbow, wrist, 

 and shoulder. I here deliver them up to you. Do what you please 

 with them. Pain is no consideration in this case. I dare say, I 

 shall have enough of it/ ' You will/ said he, emphatically. This 

 resolute bone-setter, whom I always compared to Chiron the Centaur 



