I could not help meditating on the melancholy uncertainty of human life,
when I contrasted the comforts, the pleasures, the pride of conscious
usefulness and genius felt by this gentleman a short time since, with
the agony which that trying and bitter hour brings to the stoutest and
most callous heart--when it must quit this state of being for another,
of which it knows so little, and over which fear and doubt throw a gloom
that hope cannot entirely dispel.
CHAPTER XI.
_Lunarian physicians: their consultation--While they dispute the patient
recovers--The travellers visit the celebrated teacher Lozzi Pozzi._
While I indulged in these sad meditations, and felt for my host while I
felt no less for myself, I saw the physician approach who had been sent
for. He was a tall, thin man, with a quick step, a lively, piercing eye,
a sallow complexion, and very courteous manners, and always willing to
display the ready flow of words for which he was remarkable. I felt
great curiosity to witness the skill of this Lunar Aesculapius, and he
was evidently pleased with the interest I manifested. It turned out that
he was well acquainted with the Brahmin; and learning from the latter my
wish, he conducted me into the room of our sick host. We found him lying
on a straw bed, and strangely altered within a few hours. The physician,
after feeling his pulse, (which, as every country has its peculiar
customs, is done here about the temples and neck, instead of the
wrist)--after examining his tongue, his teeth, his water, and feces,
proposed bleeding.
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