“I hope Logic will be able to accompany us in our visit to Lord Liberal’s Gallery,” said Tom, when he was interrupted by the footman putting the following letter into his hand—“Aye,” observed Tom to Jerry, “here is a note from Bob; let us hear what he has to offer upon the subject:—”
My dear Tom,
I regret very much that my health will not permit me to accompany you and the “Young One” to view my Lord Liberal’s fine gallery of paintings; a pleasure which I had sincerely anticipated, as it is well known that his Lordship’s taste respecting the fine arts, is considerably above par. But “necessitas non habet legem!” To tell you the truth, I am seriously ill, although not alarmed; yet, I must confess, that I never felt so strangely in the whole course of my life. I think the volume is nearly spun out; and that the Book will soon be closed for ever! But Dr. Finish’em will not have it so, nay, he insists on the contrary, “Lots of pages,” says he, “yet remain to be read;” and several Chapters must be perused, before you arrive at that emphatical word—FINIS! Be that as it may; you are aware that doctors differ, and I do not like appearances; yet, as we say at Oxford, forti et fideli nil difficile! Nevertheless, I am anxious to see you, my dear friend, as soon as convenient; and I wish Jerry to be your companion, as I have something to communicate to both of you, rather of a serious nature, concerning myself; yet, I am far from labouring under un cœur contrit. Therefore tell the “Young One,” I hope his person is now quite cool—that his flame is also cool; and instead of lamenting over the—&c., &c.—I am happy to hear he is Mens sana in corpore sano:—
I remain, my dear Tom,
Yours, truly,
Robert Logic.
Corinthian Tom, Esq.
“There’s something behind this letter that I do not like,” said Tom; “Bob is very ill, you may rely upon it, or else he would not be so pressing for us to visit him.” “Yes, I am afraid it is too true,” replied Jerry; “but let us hope he is not so bad, neither, as you perceive, he is joking about my late affair.” “Joke with you!” echoed Tom, “I expect Logic will die with a joke in his mouth, he is so fond of punning? But we will lose no time, as I am anxious to ascertain the true cause of his illness.”
Upon the arrival of our heroes at the apartments of Logic, they found him sitting at a table, in his arm chair, with pens and ink before him: his countenance most woefully changed for the worse. Indeed, Tom and Jerry were quite shocked with his altered appearance in so short a time. He endeavoured to smile upon them, as usual; but it savoured more of the “ghastly!” than that sort of enlivening humour which so generally imparted animation to his cheerful face. “I am very glad to see you, my boys,” said he, “before I start on my long journey, which I have been preparing for these last five or six days.” “I was not aware you had any such intention,” answered Tom; “but may I ask, where are you going?”
“To that bourne from whence no traveller returns!”
replied Logic, accompanied by a most penetrating look at the Corinthian. “Dr. Finish’em has given me my quietus, like an honest fellow. On feeling my pulse, he observed—“Your hour-glass is almost run out! Tempus fugit! Therefore, what you have to do, let it be done quickly, or else it will not be done at all!” Old Bolus, too, was rather funny with me on the occasion; “I know,” said he, “your Will was always good to serve everybody; therefore, Mr. Logic, have a good WILL now towards your friends.” I took Pill and Potions advice, and the few hours allotted to me I have made the best use of that I possibly could; and here is my WILL for your approbation.” The tear started down Tom’s cheek, and Jerry was much affected by the unexpected circumstance. “I sincerely hope it is not so bad as you apprehend,” said Tom. “Yes, my dear friends,” replied Logic, “it is all over with me. I have suffered severely from an inflammation in my bowels; but the pain has subsided, and that is the sign of approaching death. You will perceive, on looking over my TESTAMENT,[39] that I have not adhered to any of the technical terms of lawyers, being well aware that the distribution of my property will never puzzle the pericranium of the Lord Chancellor, or occasion a row among the learned brethren, to obtain a brief upon the subject; and if I have not made myself perfectly intelligible, I hope you will now point out any errors that may appear to you, in order to avoid disputes hereafter. It is true, I have no blunt to leave you, my boys, but several notes, which I hope, will always bear an interest, and prove as valuable to you in the hour of need—as cash! You will, my dear Tom, as my last request, read it aloud, for the approbation of my friend Jerry.”
THE LAST WORDS AND TESTAMENT OF ROBERT LOGIC.