Fortunately for my integrity, my understanding, and my health, people
began to grow tired of seeing and talking of Master Harrington. Some
new wonder came into fashion; I think it was Jedediah Buxton, the man of
prodigious memory, who could multiply in his head nine figures by nine;
and who, the first time he was taken to the playhouse, counted all the
steps of the dancers, and all the words uttered by Garrick in Richard
the Third. After Jedediah Buxton, or about the same time, if I recollect
rightly, came George Psalmanazar, from his Island of Formosa, who, with
his pretended Dictionary of the Pormosan language, and the pounds of
raw beef he devoured per day, excited the admiration and engrossed the
attention of the Royal Society and of every curious and fashionable
company in London: so that poor little I was forgotten, as though I had
never been. My mother and myself were left to settle the affair with my
nerves and the Jews, as we could. Between the effects of real fear, and
the exaggerated expression of it to which I had been encouraged, I was
now seriously ill. It is well known that persons have brought on fits
by pretending to have them; and by yielding to feelings, at first slight
and perfectly within the command of the will, have at last acquired
habits beyond the power of their reason, or of their most strenuous
voluntary exertion, to control. Such was my pitiable case; and at the
moment I was most to be pitied, nobody pitied me. Even my mother, now
she had nobody to talk to about me, grew tired of my illness. She was
advised by her physician, on account of her own health, by no means
to keep so close to the house as she had done of late: she went out
therefore every night to refresh herself at crowded parties; and as soon
as she left the house, the nurse and every body in the family left me.
The servants settled it, in my hearing, that there was nothing in life
the matter with me, that my mother and I were equally vapoursome-ish and
_timersome_, and that there was no use in nursing and pampering of me up
in them fantastical _fancifulnesses_: so the nurse, and lady’s maid, and
housekeeper, went down all together to _their_ tea; and the housemaid,
who was ordered by the housekeeper to stay with me, soon followed,
charging the under housemaid to supply her place; who went off also in
her turn, leaving me in charge of the cook’s daughter, a child of nine
years old, who soon stole out of the room, and scampered away along the
gallery out of the reach of my voice, leaving the room to darkness
and to me--and there I lay, in all the horrors of a low nervous fever,
unpitied and alone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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