England, of late, has
been rich to excess in fine thinkers, in the departments of creative and
combining thought; but there is a sad dearth of masculine thinkers in any
analytic path. A Scotchman of eminent name has lately told us that he is
obliged to quit even mathematics for want of encouragement.
{20} William Lithgow. His book (Travels, &c.) is ill and pedantically
written; but the account of his own sufferings on the rack at Malaga is
overpoweringly affecting.
{21} In saying this I mean no disrespect to the individual house, as the
reader will understand when I tell him that, with the exception of one or
two princely mansions, and some few inferior ones that have been coated
with Roman cement, I am not acquainted with any house in this mountainous
district which is wholly waterproof. The architecture of books, I
flatter myself, is conducted on just principles in this country; but for
any other architecture, it is in a barbarous state, and what is worse, in
a retrograde state.
{22} On which last notice I would remark that mine was _too_ rapid, and
the suffering therefore needlessly aggravated; or rather, perhaps, it was
not sufficiently continuous and equably graduated. But that the reader
may judge for himself, and above all that the Opium-eater, who is
preparing to retire from business, may have every sort of information
before him, I subjoin my diary:--
First Week Second Week
Drops of Laud.
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