I have always been devotedly attached to the literature of Greece, and
particularly to that of your Athens; and have never ceased to cherish
the persuasion that that city would one day make me ample recompense
for the warmth of my regard. The ancient genius of your renowned
country has favoured the completion of my prophecy in presenting me
with your friendship and esteem. Though I was known to you only by my
writings, and we were removed to such a distance from each other, you
most courteously addressed me by letter; and when you unexpectedly
came to London, and saw me who could no longer see, my affliction,
which causes none to regard me with greater admiration, and perhaps
many even with feelings of contempt, excited your tenderest sympathy
and concern. You would not suffer me to abandon the hope of recovering
my sight; and informed me you had an intimate friend at Paris, Dr.
Thevenot, who was particularly celebrated in disorders of the eyes,
whom you would consult about mine, if I would enable you to lay before
him the causes and the symptoms of the complaint. I will do what you
desire, lest I should seem to reject that aid which perhaps may be
offered me by Heaven. It is now, I think, about ten years since I
perceived my vision to grow weak and dull; and at the same time I
was troubled with pain in my kidneys and bowels, accompanied with
flatulency. In the morning, if I began to read, as was my custom,
my eyes instantly ached intensely, but were refreshed after a little
corporeal exercise. The candle which I looked at, seemed as it were
encircled with a rainbow. Not long after the sight in the left part of
the left eye (which I lost some years before the other) became quite
obscured, and prevented me from discerning any object on that
side. The sight in my other eye has now been gradually and sensibly
vanishing away for about three years; some months before it had
entirely perished, though I stood motionless, everything which I
looked at seemed in motion to and fro. A stiff cloudy vapour seemed
to have settled on my forehead and temples, which usually occasions a
sort of somnolent pressure upon my eyes, and particularly from dinner
till the evening. So that I often recollect what is said of the poet
Phineas in the _Argonautics_:
A stupor deep his cloudy temples bound,
And when he walked he seemed as whirling round,
Or in a feeble trance he speechless lay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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