On the 20th, I came hither, and found a house half-built, of
very uncomfortable appearance; but my own room has not been altered.
That a man worn with diseases, in his seventy-second or third year,
should condemn part of his remaining life to pass among ruins and
rubbish, and that no inconsiderable part, appears to me very strange. I
know that your kindness makes you impatient to know the state of my
health, in which I cannot boast of much improvement. I came through the
journey without much inconvenience, but when I attempt self-motion I
find my legs weak, and my breath very short; this day I have been much
disordered. I have no company; the Doctor[1166] is busy in his fields,
and goes to bed at nine, and his whole system is so different from mine,
that we seem formed for different elements[1167]; I have, therefore,
all my amusement to seek within myself.'
Having written to him, in bad spirits, a letter filled with dejection
and fretfulness, and at the same time expressing anxious apprehensions
concerning him, on account of a dream which had disturbed me; his answer
was chiefly in terms of reproach, for a supposed charge of 'affecting
discontent, and indulging the vanity of complaint.
Pages:
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491