DIARY CONTINUED, 1801-1803
Public affairs and prophecy—The divining rod—The appropriation of
waste lands—The word ‘meanness’ defined—South’s
sermons—Projected theological
compendia—Correspondence—Journalising to ‘my friend’—Anecdote of
Dean Milner and Pitt—Death of the Duke of Bedford—Napoleon and
Protestantism.
_March 20._—It is in vain to complain of gaps; if I had but
attention enough to write only two lines every day I should have
hope of going on. I have been thinking more seriously of the
Journal, and of converting it to use as a memento of the progress I
make in the only business worth real attention—my salvation through
the merits of the Blessed Saviour. For this purpose I must fix on
some hour of the day to be regular at it, and, if I hold my
resolution, it shall be immediately after my prayers in the morning,
being always up at 4 A.M. and sometimes at 3 A.M. I am then sure to
be uninterrupted; positively I will begin to-morrow morning.
_21st._—Dined yesterday with Lord Somerville. I did not like the
day. Duke of Montrose, Duke of Athol, and Lord Rossmore sent
excuses, but the Marquis of Abercorn, Lord Dalkeith, Lord Villiers,
Lord Barrington, Mr. McDougal, Mr. Baird, and two Scotch members
were there, the last but one a hard-headed, sensible man.
Much conversation, particularly farming. This morning Sir A. St.
John Mildmay called to have my opinion of a Bill he is now bringing
into Parliament to enable the clergy to give leases of their tithes
beyond the term of their lives. The Archbishop has not negatived it,
but such a Bill can no more pass than the abolition of tithes; it is
open to such frauds that perhaps it ought not to pass.
My chief misfortune in having little society with well-disposed
minds: I know few except Wilberforce and Cecil; the latter I rarely
see, and W. is so full of business that I might nearly as well be
unknown to him. I will urge him to form a Society to meet once a
week for conversation merely on religion.
_22nd, Sunday._—To be eager and alert in rising at 4 A.M. for all my
secular employments and sluggish on the Lord’s Day, when, if I rise,
it must be to His worship, seemed long ago a snare of Satan, which,
blessed be God, I have resisted. I was yesterday at the Society for
Bettering the Condition of the Poor, the Bishop of Durham in the
chair; it is an excellent institution, and may call down the
blessing of God—may that Being grant them his grace to do good from
right motives! With the Duke of Bedford on the Smithfield Society,
and the whole day full of business, which, on the Sabbath, I banish
as much as I can from my mind. In the evening my son and daughter
only at home, and therefore I got an hour’s religious conversation
with them on the times and the Prophecies.
I have been too negligent of improving such opportunities, but the
tremendous moment in which we live, so lately having seen the
country without King, without minister, with a famine, and seven
wars! If it be not a moment to call people to a serious
recollection, nothing can ever do it.
So near the expiration of the 1,260 years of Daniel and St. John;
the Turkish Empire on the point of destruction; a strange and
unthought-of establishment in Egypt, a country that is to have much
to do in the return of the Jews—ourselves in India, they may have
some unknown relation to that phial to be poured out on the
Euphrates to make way for the Kings of the East—altogether combine
strangely to give suspicion that we are on the eve of some great
events which are to usher in the final consummation of all things,
and consequently the fall of the ten Kings of Europe. The times are
truly awful, and demand such piety and resignation as no other
period of modern history even approached to.
_23rd._—At the Lock yesterday. Scott is now my favourite preacher,
and I have heard him ever since I came to Town with great pleasure
and attention in spite of a very bad manner. His matter is most
excellent. Received the Sacrament.
_24th._—Called yesterday on Mr. and Mrs. Montagu in their great
house. It is said he has just lost a coal pit that was worth
6,000_l._ or 7,000_l._ a year; I had a card for her Monday parties,
and not having been, I apologised. I must now and then go after
Easter. But all company of the sort is flat to me. I have just made
up the annual account for 1800, and the loss upon the year is
22_l._; this meeting a tax on paper which will cost 48_l._ a year is
alarming. I had entertained many vain hopes that the work after so
many years’ continuance would have stood its ground, but I know not
what to think. Now I must print only six instead of seven sheets,
and try so for another year. If I lose then, I must give up the
work, much as it will hurt me. The ‘Agricultural and Commercial
Magazine’ and the ‘Farmers’ Magazine,’ which approach more to the
nature of newspapers, and which have contained hardly one paper of
real importance, have been selling well; such is the world, its
judgment and discernment!
_28th._—Yesterday the Board proceeded to Hyde Park in a body to see
the experiments of Captain Hoar on the _Virgula divina_. He, many
years ago, saw Lady Milbank’s surprising faculty of discovering
springs, and trying, found that he had it himself. He is recommended
to the Board by Mr. Lascelles, member for Yorkshire.
I found from the conductor of the waterworks at the reservoir then
at work, that the twig in Mr. Hoar’s hand when he crossed them
turned up in a surprising manner. He seemed, in the opinion of Sir
Joseph Banks, to fail once, but in the four trials I watched, and in
which I know he could not be acquainted with the direction of the
pipes, he succeeded completely. Next Tuesday another trial.
To-morrow will be published in the ‘Annals’ the first parts of my
essay on applying waste lands to the better support of the poor. I
prepared it some time ago for the Board, as it was collected in my
last summer’s journey; I read it to a committee—Lord Carrington, Sir
C. Willoughby and Mr. Millington—who condemned it, and, after
waiting a month, Lord C. told me I might do what I pleased with it
for myself, but not print it as a work for the Board; so I altered
the expressions which referred to the body, and sent it to the
‘Annals.’ I prayed earnestly to God on and since the journey for His
blessing on my endeavours to serve the poor, and to influence the
minds of people to accept it; but for the wisest reasons certainly
He has thought proper not to do this, and for the same reasons
probably it will be printed without effect. I think it, however, my
duty to Him to do all I possibly can. Such events and circumstances
I am well persuaded are entirely in His Divine management, and that
we are mere instruments in His hands. Whether I print or not is a
matter wholly unimportant, but the use made of it is in the hands of
the Almighty alone. I am well persuaded that this is the only
possible means of saving the nation from the ruin fast coming on by
the misery of the poor and the alarming ruin of rates. God’s will be
done!
_29th._—Yesterday at the Farmers’ Club. I have little relish of
these meetings, unless given to farming conversation, and this was
nothing but wrangling about the disposition of money. Sunday before
Easter.—Company and talk, eating and wine; sitting up late are ill
preparations for the Sabbath.
_31st._—The Duke of Bedford and Lord Winchilsea at the Club; filled
up vacancies and settled the premiums. The Board greatly attended
yesterday, and adjourned for the holidays.
Captain Hoar is turned over to Lord Egremont, of whom the Bishop of
Durham said that he possessed of all the men almost that he ever
knew the clearest head and most penetrating understanding. I asked
Lord Carrington to employ Arthur while I am absent; he said it was
mean to make him a clerk—but everything is wrong that is proposed to
this man, even the things which, let alone, he would propose
himself.
Honest industry in a lawful employment cannot be mean, especially in
an employment that he likes. This is one of the world’s prejudices,
and rotten like all the rest.
_April 4._—At Bradfield. The pleasure of coming into the country
from such a place as London is great and pure. The freshness and
sweetness of the air, the quiet and stillness, the sunshine
unclouded by smoke, the singing of the birds, the verdure of the
fields, the budding out of vegetation, altogether is charming.
I have only an old woman who keeps the house in our absence, and
never was so attended before; but no matter—I am quiet, peaceful,
and living economically, and shall, I hope, be very well contented.
Divine service was worse done than anything; Sharpe, who is past
everything, preaches and reads worse than any human being; this is
lamentable. That point is the glory of London; one can find churches
where our attention is commanded by instruction.
I never saw the wheat look better, thanks to God! My farm is the
source of disquiet as well as pleasure—such bailiffs as I must keep
execute everything badly, except just what they have always been
used to; and with great expenses there are always many things sadly
neglected. With such absences as I am forced to, this must be the
case.
I have read Barrow’s sermons chiefly since I came down. That on Good
Friday excellent, on Whit Sunday capital, and on the prophecies of
the Messiah such as would convince an infidel, were not infidelity
true hardness of heart.
_5th._—At the Sacrament, none but Green and his wife, and the clerk
and his wife. How much have the clergy to answer for! Reading Barrow
and South’s sermons, ‘The Image of God in the Creation,’ which is
full of wit. Barrow is a most powerful writer, he pours out a
torrent of matter, a stream of mind, as Johnson said of Burke; an
amazing flow of conception and of expression, forcible and varied; a
rich command of language, and such fertility that one of his sermons
would make ten modern ones.
The life I am getting into here of walking and reading is such a
contrast to that at London as to be a most pleasant change and
recreation to my soul and body.
From January 20th I had been so loaded with business of the
requisitions from the Committees of Lords and Commons, and reading
360 essays, that I was employed every day from morn to dinner. I
rose at 4 A.M. regularly, sometimes sooner, even at 3 A.M., and
neglected my ‘Elements’[200] entirely on this account. All was for
the Board, and not free from anxiety. Here I shall have a
fortnight’s refreshment and relaxation, thanks to the Almighty for
it, and that He blesses me with health to enjoy it.
_7th._—Yesterday at 2 o’clock I walked to Bury, for I have neither
horse nor chaise to go in or on. Dined with my friend[201] alone. I
had much talk, and tried hard to impress her with good religious
notions, but I fear in vain; she will not be converted but by
misfortune and misery, her easy prosperous situation will prevent
it. I can only pray for her.
I have made an experiment in living here not unimportant. I drink no
wine or beer, only a pint or one-third of a bottle of cider at
dinner. I care not what I eat, I have only one maid and no helps,
and could thus live for a trifle in a cottage. In such times such
trials may have their use beyond the Christian propriety of
self-denial; but my collection of good books are a great comfort,
which, if deprived of, I should miss terribly. I rise at 4 A.M.,
walk up to my neck in the garden pond, pray, and then read till
breakfast; read, walk, and farm till dinner, and so on till it is
dark, and no moment hangs heavily on my hands. I reproach myself
with indolence for not going among the cottagers, but they come to
me numerously, and having descriptive lists I know enough to do more
than I am able, but I ought to go to their houses and examine their
state well.
I have been reading Watson’s Collection,[202] and am forming a table
of striking passages, and think to have them copied for arranging
with the many I have already written, and may print it some time or
other under some such title as this: _A course of reading on the
origin, truth, and doctrines of the Christian Religion_. I know of
no book of evidences that includes all; by taking the most
impressive passages on each subject from many books, and disposing
them in a lucid form, I think I could produce a very useful work
without presuming to compose any part of it myself. May the Lord
afford me His Spirit should I go on with the design, but with my
employment it would be a business requiring much time!
_9th._—Dined with Mr. and Mrs. Balgrave. Balgrave is a good-tempered
Suffolk parson, neglects the duty of his church, idle, indolent,
drinks his bottle of port and reads his newspaper, but what is
called a respectable character, no vices, nor any imprudent follies.
_10th._—Symonds dined with me and took a bed. The Duke of Brunswick
marching into Hanover will, he says, be a keen revenge.
When he married our King’s sister, Lord Bute (who told the whole to
S. while travelling with him in Italy) promised him the government
of Hanover as soon as it should be vacant, with the King’s
knowledge. The Marquis of Granby conveyed the assurance. When the
vacancy happened the Prince of Mecklenburg was talked of. Lord
Granby wrote to Lord Bute to remonstrate, who went to the King and
Queen, and urged the real necessity of adhering to the promise. All
in vain, the Queen prevailed, and her brother, not two degrees
better than ——, was appointed. The Duke of Brunswick never forgave
it, and when invited to England rejected the idea with anger.
Symonds saw him at Venice and noted the asperity of some of his
expressions.
_11th._—Reading Sherlock’s sermons. In those on the truth of
Christianity, and a defence of the mysteries of it, I know none
equal; excellent indeed and clear, persuasive, and convincing; but I
have some doubts on the vitality of his faith. In the third
discourse of the second volume he says: ‘Here is a plain proof of
what the work of the Spirit is. It brings proofs to the reason of
man, but does not bring the reason of man to the proofs.’ I conceive
just the contrary, the proofs themselves are clear, full, and
abounding with what ought to produce universal conviction, but men,
for want of the Spirit, turn their back, neglect, or despise them.
It is the business of the Spirit to take away the heart of stone,
and then the proofs are manifest: the heart and reason of man are
really brought to the proofs.
_12th, Sunday._—The ground white with snow, and the wind cutting. I
am up every morn at 4 A.M., and walk to the garden pond; habits will
do anything. I do not mind it at all, and sometimes stand in the
wind till dry; it is, however, sharp work.
A nonsensical letter from Lord Carrington requiring me to go to the
Treasury for the 800_l._ for the Essays, which is entirely the
treasurer’s business. He is as unfeeling as a log; this is a return
for my being at work from 4 A.M. in the morning for ten weeks. I
should once have been full of indignation and abhorrence; thank God,
I am more calm. I shall go on Friday instead of the Monday
following. But I wish he had let me alone. I am vexed, but the world
is full of nothing but great miseries or teasing vexations, the more
the better; they wean us from it effectually.
I have been here ten days and have not visited one poor family. My
heart reproaches me. I have given as much as I apprehended I could
afford, but that is laziness. The cold winds and sleet have kept me
too much in the house. It is easier to give than to be active in
doing good. I have four days more. Oh, let me be stirring in doing
good! Indolence is inexcusable. If I thought I had but a little time
to live, with what energy would all this be done! And how soon may I
be trembling on a death bed! Have mercy on me, O God, and give me
grace to serve Thee with activity and vigour. Read the whole book of
Job. I can read, think, speculate, write, and meditate, but in doing
good am negligent and slothful. I have had a passing fit of
melancholy from looking at my ever dear daughter’s picture, which I
carry with me everywhere, and never think of her but to bless God
for having in some measure (how imperfectly!) brought me to Himself.
Age coming on apace; the world fading faster still; horrible
threatenings in the aspect of public affairs; small hope of any
comfort underived from religion. How black and dreary would all my
prospects be were it not for the consolation I draw from a most
lively and never varying faith in the truth of Christianity, in the
_full assurance_ of immortality! What would be my situation without
this only balm of my existence? Domestic comfort a blank; my friends
dropping into the grave, and the infirmities of age in near
prospect.
Gratitude and thanksgiving to my blessed Saviour for affording me
grace to believe; and with it all the comfort that remains for me in
this world. My child! My child! Oh, may we meet in heaven!
_13th._—The poor people of the neighbouring villages crowd here to
my great distress. I give all something, and wish I could give more;
but I dread falling into the dark impropriety of giving too much, of
making what would seem and be a parade of charity or generosity with
other people’s money, which is somewhat the case with a man who
gives while he has debts unprovided for. I truly know not what
rightly to do in this case. The evil just described is great, and
ought to be avoided, but at the same time what ought I to think of
myself who have been always ready to spend and run in debt for forty
years together; and then should take up so strictly as to do nothing
for miserably poor people in such times as these? Surely on such an
occasion we should be exerting every power to relieve them!
_20th._—Friday to London. Saturday, Farmers’ Club. An argument with
Lord Egremont, &c., on land for the poor; everybody is against it.
What infatuation!
_21st._—Last night at Mrs. Montagu’s conversazione. I had some
[talk] with the Bishop of Durham, who agrees with me on the poor;
with Lady Harcourt, who wants restrictions on farmers; with Lord
Somers, who told stories of supernatural movements of furniture in
Norfolk.[203] I left it very early though invited for all March and
April. This is the first of my going.
London very disagreeable to me, and has made me compare in my mind
my present situation with a large income, and that of living in a
cottage in the country upon 100_l._ a year, without trouble or
anxiety or business, except to make my peace with God. I liked my
time alone with my old woman [servant] at Bradfield much better than
here. I had nobody to wrangle and quarrel with me.
_May 4._—Yesterday I was at church in the morning with Mrs. O. Oakes
at the Lock, and heard Scott, and in the evening at the Surrey
Chapel to hear Rowland Hill. Neither of them pleased, though she
admits Scott’s matter was excellent. She was most struck with the
extreme fervency of Mr. Wilberforce’s devotion, who, sitting in the
reading desk for the convenience of hearing better, she saw him
clearly. Bought Rowland Hill’s sermon on the Sunday Schools against
the attack of Bishop Horsley,[204] who is, from all I hear of him,
such a bishop as Suffolk parsons are clergymen. Scott thinks that
evil spirits do work on our souls, and to me it is remarkable that
he says the imagination is their great field. I have reason enough
to believe him in the right. These are enquiries in which we have no
other clue to guide us but Scripture, and surely there we find
proofs without end of the agency of evil spirits; for my own part I
have no doubt of it.
_Bradfield._—As there was no church this morning, I had eleven poor
women from the village to talk to upon their neglect of church. I
read many passages on public worship and prayer out of Dodd’s
Commentary on the Bible, and explained, preached, and reasoned with
them. One made a defence, and was inclined to prate. I took it
coolly, and presently brought her to better reason. I doubt they
liked a sixpence apiece better than my sermon, yet three of them
cried. How much more docile and teachable are the poor than the
rich! One might gradually do much with the poor, but very little
indeed with their betters. God opens the hearts of the one, and
hardens those of the others as a punishment for their pride and
ingratitude.
The Duke of Bedford has asked Lord Carrington to the sheep shearing.
Lord Egremont called, he remarks that the Chancellor, Lord Rosslyn,
and Lord Grenville, &c. &c., all have in the late debates gone out
of the way to abuse the Board of Agriculture, and remarks that
keeping a Board only to treat it in this manner is preposterous.
_7th._—My publications are very well adapted to take off the edge of
all worldly infatuated admiration or dependence on the things of
time in comparison of those of eternity. Washington’s Letters have
been advertised to the expense of 5_l._ or 6_l._, and I do not
believe that 100 are sold, and my enquiry into the cottage system
for poor people will have no more effect on Government or the
Legislature than if I had whistled ‘Alley Croker.’ So much the
better perhaps for the good of my soul.
_25th._—Mr. Hoole called and was let in. He has heard at a great
table (he did not say where) a very so-so account of Lord
Carrington—fidgeting, restless, dissatisfied, ambitious, avaricious,
with a mere show of parts and knowledge. He has made immensely by
the loan; and the richer he grows, so much the worse. The eldest
girl said to Mr. H. when he called: ‘My papa used to have prayers in
his family; but none since he has been a peer.’ What a motive for
neglecting God! Also he is a dissenter and a democrat. A Unitarian
he may be, but certainly no democrat. The Lord show mercy to him,
and by interrupting his prosperity or lowering his health, bring him
to repentance!
_26th._—Yesterday I dined with the Duke of Grafton, and he asked me
when the election of president and secretary of the Board was, for
he heard there was an intention of turning Lord Carrington and me
out. He said his answer was, as to Lord C., there were reasons which
might account for that, but what can Mr. Y. have done? ‘Oh, he is
careless, and does nothing,’ and so I dare say there are people to
report and perhaps so think. Lord Somerville in revenge, I doubt
not, hates everything belonging to the Board, and wishes to come in
and sweep everyone clear away, in order to introduce creatures of
his own, and this, uniting with Gifford’s scandals and slander about
the Board intending to pull down the club in the ‘Porcupine’ and
‘Anti-Jacobin Review,’[205] gains the attention of fools, and
mingled by the depravity of the world, is circulated and believed.
But of all farces, that of my doing nothing is the most precious.
What I have done through the whole session of the Board surpasses
credibility, almost to myself, and nothing but rising at 4 A.M. in
the morning could have enabled me to go through it. The first spare
half day I have I will make a list of all I have done, and see if
they will not acquit me to my own heart. Oh, did I serve my God as
well as I have served the Board! Could I review my services to my
Redeemer as satisfactorily, happy should I be!
_27th._—Symonds and Hoole dined with us, and, as the former will see
the Duke of Grafton to-day, I gave him a message card, on one side
of which is ‘_Some use in rising at 4_ A.M.,’ and on the other as
follows: ‘From January 20 to May 23 are 90 days, Sundays and
vacation excluded, 50 Boards and Committees; 340 essays read, and
every one commented on. Report to the House of Commons on Potatoes.
Report to the Lords on Grass Lands. Enquiry into cottagers’ land
published, but drawn up for the Board. Memoir on Salt, from more
than fifty authors. Ten new premises framed. Memoir on wastes,
paring, burning, and arable land.’
If for such employment I am stigmatised for doing nothing, it shows
that in order to please, it matters not what we do, caprice will be
the only judgment. What conclusion is to be drawn from such cases?
Serve God truly, and as to man trouble not thyself about him; let
this be the golden rule, and it will bring peace at the last.
_28th._—Lord Carrington fretting and worrying, and upon the full
fidget about the newspapers’ abuse, and the criticisms in the House
of Lords upon the publication of the Board; swearing that he will
allow no nonsense to be published, and this will be more absurd and
pragmatical than ever. Oh! Mr. Pitt, Mr. Pitt, that thou shouldest
have formed such a Board as this, and then permit it to frame such a
constitution as should render it absolutely dependent on the folly
and caprice of a president! What might it not have done had its laws
been what they ought to have been!
Dalton, of Yorkshire, gave me a long account of his taking Hyder Ali
when only the colonel of 500 horse—a soldier of fortune.[206] Lord
Egremont came up from Petworth, where, he tells me, not a loaf for
three days and a half, and a mutiny among the volunteers.
_29th._—Dined yesterday at Lord Winchilsea’s. There were the Duke of
Bedford, Lord Egremont, Lord Romney, Lord Somerville, Mr. Calhoun,
Mr. Northey, Mr. Conyers, and myself: much farming. Lord Romney gave
Lord Egremont a guinea, to receive fifty when he produced a tench
that weighed seven pounds.
Yesterday the Committee voted 50_l._ to my son for his labour in
arranging &c., during thirteen weeks, the Reports from inclosed
parishes to the House of Commons. I thanked them very awkwardly, and
talked of gratitude, for it came on unexpectedly; that readiness
which is never at a loss I have not an atom of. My heart always
speaks at a sudden; whereas in many cases the head is most wanted.
But the fault was on the right side, it was more than I expected.
_June 6._—Charming weather for the country, now in its full beauty,
and I am stoved up in this horrid place. Lord C. talked of
adjourning the Board on Tuesday, which I hope much he will do. The
15th is the Sheep Show at Woburn; it will be the 20th before it is
possible for me to see Bradfield, and hardly then; the longest day
before a man gets into the country!!! Let them turn me out of my
secretaryship and I shall not regret it, but down all discontent; it
is God’s will, and my duty is to be thankful for all.
It is a comfort which exceeds all others, that as age advances the
end of life is viewed as a mere change of residence, and the mental
eye fixed on heaven, with full confidence in the promises of God. I
would not give this conviction for the wealth of the Indies, for the
empire of the world. And what does one lose by religion? I enjoy all
such pleasures of life as are unattended by remorse, just as much,
or more indeed, far more, than I did while I was a dissipated
character. Reading, composition, serious conversation on any topic
worth discussing, the rural beauties of Nature, and the pleasures of
agriculture, friendship, affection, not love, as it is called, the
whole of which I fear is founded in lust, and proves nineteen times
in twenty the tyrant of the breast, and the fertile source of ten
thousand miseries! Happy those in whom it terminates in a settled,
quiet, tranquil friendship, sufficient to satisfy without the
wanderings of the heart that lead to so much misery.
I was here (at Bradfield) three weeks at Easter after a severe
confinement to incessant business; I am now again in the same deep
retirement, the life of a hermit, after eight weeks of business and
bustle. I feel how vast the benefit is to have these periodical
retirements from the world in silence and solitude. Had I gone
directly from London on my tour, plunging from one busy scene to
another, my mind would have had no time to cool, none to settle into
any calm and tranquil state for reflection, which is unfavourable to
the growth of religion, of morals, nay, of talents to perform
anything of consequence. A round of business or dissipation thus
unbroken is mischievous to the heart, ties it to the world, and
unfits it for every effort of regeneration and repentance, or of
meditation and philosophy.
Lord Euston is going the tour of Suffolk, ordering returns to be
made of all carts, waggons, horses, mills, and ovens; a step
preparatory in the expectation of an invasion. But it is in
everyone’s mouth that with such a price of corn half the country
would join an enemy. I must freely confess I dread the result. We
have no hope but in the protection of the Almighty, who has hitherto
so wonderfully protected us; and what has been the gratitude shown
to Him?
Most melancholy is the reflection. Our rulers are truly infatuated,
to have done nothing for the assistance of the poor, but leave them
to such trying times without even showing a disposition to take any
steps that could be effective. To do nothing to give relief, when
land for the poor does relieve them so beneficially wherever they
have it, is a cruel infatuation. To see poor rates at their present
enormous height and the poor in misery—yet where they have land, to
find rates 3_d._ or 4_d._ or 9_d._ in the £, and the poor in a state
of ease and comfort—one would think should speak feelingly and
powerfully—but no such thing. Men are governed by their stupid
prejudices, and have too much pride to permit their eyes to be
opened. Had an Act passed last session that had the effect of thus
assisting the poor, instead of the pernicious system by rates, and
some progress were now making in every county to carry it into
execution, we should not hear such opinions advanced, because they
would be groundless; the poor labourers, seeing such steps taken for
their comfort and to free them from the ineffective thraldom of
parish rates, would be patient and quiet. At present they see
nothing done or doing for them, and have their hearts almost broken
by penury—without resource—without hope.
In such a situation who would wonder to see men join an enemy in
crowds? Heaven forbid that this infatuation of Government be not
providential, and the means by which the Deity may mean to punish
the nation for and by its sins!
The trumpeter of the Corps of Yeomanry came to me with a written
engagement to forfeit 5_s._ the first absence and 10_s._ 6_d._ every
successive one if we do not meet the first Friday of every month. I
was always exempted on account of my necessary absence; however, as
they expect to be called into actual service, I would not now retire
when an invasion is expected, so I signed; but when the alarm is
quite blown over—should that please the Almighty—I shall withdraw,
for I am too old and too weak, and my pursuits too far off and too
numerous to permit attendance.
_September 7_ [on tour, at Dunstable].—Breakfasted with Mr. Parkyn,
and then went to meet a person who instructs people in plaiting
straw, and I bargained with him at 30_s._ a week for a girl to be
instructed—a month will do; that is 6_l._, and the journey there and
back, about 4_l._, so for 10_l._ I shall be able to introduce this
most excellent fabric among our poor. The children begin at four
years old, and by six earn 2_s._ or 3_s._ a week; by seven 1_s._ a
day; and at eight and nine, &c., 10_s._ or 12_s._ a week. This will
be of immense use to them.
Got to Woburn by 2 P.M., sat down and wrote for two hours and a
half, then dressed, but did not dine till nearly 8 P.M. The Duke of
Manchester there with Lord Preston, Mr. Cartwright, and Edwards, the
bookseller, who is putting the library to rights and showing how to
make the catalogue. I was surprised to learn from him that a man
could not lay out in one year more than 5,000_l._ judiciously in
books; that Lord Spencer has been fourteen years expending
25,000_l._, and has the best library in England, perhaps better than
the King’s. He tells me the nation [France] bought L’Héritier’s[207]
library, and gave it to the Botanical Garden. Miss Knight,[208]
authoress of the continuation of ‘Rasselas,’ whom I met at
Kedington’s, lent Dolmien’s[209] ‘Life at Naples,’ through Lady
Hamilton’s interest with the Queen. He wrote to her from prison.
Did not get to bed till past 11 P.M. Such hours and fasting from 9
A.M. in morn to 8 P.M. at night did not agree with me. I waked at 4
A.M., and having a lamp, rose, washed, prayed, and sat down by
candlelight to my notes and finished them.
Lord Preston swears; it hurts me to hear him. I certainly ought to
convert such people and reproach myself, and confess the sin every
day in my catalogue to God; but I go on and do it not. If I had wit
I could laugh at it, but I have no more wit than a pig.
The following are selected from this year’s correspondence:
_From T. Symonds, Esq., describing Trinity College Establishment,
Revenue, &c._
‘Cambridge: March 20, 1801.
‘You desire me, good friend, to send you a long letter from this
place, but I could more easily find materials to write one to our
friend Charles Cole, from his being perfectly conversant with
every one here, and with almost everything. You observe very
right, that landlords cannot come into a share of the wealth of
their tenants but by a corn rent. This I have insisted upon of
late frequently at Bury. The present state of the University is an
indisputable proof of it. The pressure of the times is hardly felt
by its members. Will you not think so, when you hear that the
revenue of this College amounted to nearly 16,000_l._ last year,
and that the eight senior fellows received more than 300_l._ each,
and the junior half of that sum? They have been obliged to raise,
however, the price of the commons (as they are called) from
fifteen to eighteen pence. But I sit down here every day for this
sum to a dinner, which gentlemen of a thousand a year cannot give
often with prudence.
‘The papers, I presume, have informed you of the trial of our
plate stealers last week.
‘The whole business was ill conducted. The man who sold to the Jew
the medals of King’s College for 70_l._, the plate of this for
300_l._, and the plate of Caius for 500_l._, pleaded guilty, and
in consequence of a free pardon to appear against the Jew, who,
though acquitted at these Assizes, will probably be hanged at the
next. Grimshaw, the chimney sweeper, is the only victim at
present. Your friend Simeon was not wanting in his visits to him.
He told an acquaintance of mine "that he found Grimshaw’s
conversation delightful; that he had grace to die; and that the
sooner he was executed the better, for fear this grace should
evaporate." Should it ever be my lot to be condemned for
execution, I will immediately apply to you for consolation. Simeon
could work no conviction in the Jew; this will not surprise you.
‘I saw in the papers a list of the dancers at Lady Carrington’s
ball; but, to my astonishment, did not discover your name. The
papers have raised Lord C. to the degree of Viscount;[210] it
would be too insulting for a man recently in business to step
above the heads of our ancient Barons. I should have told you that
we have here a young nobleman of unblemished character. I mean
Lord Henry Petty, whose knowledge and abilities are such, both in
writing and speaking in public, as to lead me to imagine that he
cannot fail to make a distinguished figure in Parliament. By the
bye, there seem to be some members of the House of Commons who are
jealous of your Board.
‘Yours sincerely,
‘J. SYMONDS.’
_January 24, 1802._—A great gap; but from coming to London in
November to quitting it the following month I wrote journal letters
paged to my friend.[211] Through the Christmas holidays a blank. I
have subscribed to the Lock Hospital 5_l._ 5_s._, and go every
Sunday. Wilberforce always there taking notes of Scott’s sermons.
In the great business of my salvation I go on slowly, struggling
hard, however, to advance, by freeing my imagination from sensuality
and my heart from coldness. God give me grace to persist. I lay
great stress on trying by every means to impress in my mind a
constant sense of God’s presence.
_March 8._—At Wilberforce’s last night till 10 o’clock, and was not
in bed till quarter past 11 P.M. Though I was up before 4 A.M., and
had no sleep in the day, or very little, the consequence was that in
the night just past I slept very soundly indeed, and till 6 A.M.
Dean Milner[212] there, and I had much conversation with him about
W. while he and Mr. W. were out of the room. He first made an
impression on Wilberforce’s mind at Scarborough; he hinted on some
person named being an enthusiast, but Milner (though not religious
then himself) checked it with a firmness that made W. think. They
afterwards travelled to Nice, and were there three months about the
year 1783 or 1784. The Duke of Gloucester was then an infidel; the
conversation M. had with him upon the journey had no other effect
(indeed that was the capital one) but of making him serious in
reading and considering the Bible, which he did with great industry
and deep attention, bringing to it a _heart_ open to conviction; his
health was injured by application, but his eternal soul was saved.
He afterwards broke off his intimacies with a social fashionable
set, and particularly from dinners which hurt his progress in Divine
impersonation. He fairly and openly told his friends the reason.
Pitt never joked or laughed at him—some did, but he never; all were
sorry to lose him. But he was in earnest, and carried his
determination into effect to give himself wholly to the care of his
soul in the first place, and next to perform his temporal duties by
assiduity in business. The Dean remarked the great good his book is
likely to do from this time to the end of the world. Many, many may
be saved by it. He dictated an answer to some quotations from David
which the Duke of Grafton gave me the other day in argument against
original sin, the righteousness named 1,000 years before Christ. He
replied as I had done on the spot to the Duke, that these men had
the _spirit_, and then were righteous before God in _Jesus Christ_
who saved from the creation.
The Duke of Bedford’s death! How much I could write on that topic. I
met Halifax at the Duke of Grafton’s. He died with what is called
perfect courage, collectedness, and resolution that is perfectly
hardened in insensibility. A most tremendous, awful, horrible case!
But very difficult to separate affection for the amiable temper and
useful life from a just condemnation of his utter want of religion
and piety.
_From the Duke of Bedford[213]
in carrying out the plans of his late Brother_
‘Woburn Abbey: March 28, 1802.
‘Sir,—The sudden and fatal event which deprived me of one of the
kindest of friends and most affectionate of brothers, Agriculture
of one of its firmest props, and Society of one of its best and
most useful members, coming upon me too so soon after a former
severe domestic calamity, left my mind in such a state of sad
dejection as to render me wholly incapable of writing to you on a
subject deeply interesting to me, because it occupied the last
thoughts of my much lamented brother. His zeal for that first and
most interesting of pursuits, Agriculture, did not forsake him
even in the last moments of his life, and on his death-bed, with
an earnestness of mind expressive of his character, and with that
anxious consideration for the interests of his country which
occupied so many years of his well-spent life, he strongly urged
me to follow up those plans of national improvement which he had
begun, and from which he had formed the most sanguine hopes of
success. He referred me to Mr. Cartwright and to you for
explanations and details; with Mr. C. I have already had some
conversation, and hope soon to have the pleasure of seeing you. I
shall be in London in a day or two, and if you will favour me with
a line in Arlington Street, to name the day and hour most
convenient to you to call upon me, you will much oblige me. Should
you be absent from Town I trust it will not be long before I have
the satisfaction of seeing you at Woburn.
‘Desirous as I am in every point of view to fulfil the last wishes
of my departed brother, I feel that my humble efforts must be at
such a vast distance from the exertions of his well-regulated and
superior mind, that without the aid and advice of those most
capable of assisting me, I should utterly despair of attaining the
objects now so near to my heart.
‘I am, Sir,
‘Your faithful and obedient servant,
‘BEDFORD.’
_My Reply_
‘32 Sackville Street: March 1802.
‘My Lord,—The melancholy event which has deprived your Grace of a
brother so beloved was a stroke that affected every feeling of my
heart; others more habituated to his merit on great occasions
better knew than it was possible for me to do the powers of a mind
that could fathom the most important subjects; but to me, sinking
his great consequence in the country, he was a kind, most amiable,
and indulgent friend, nor shall I ever cease to lament the loss of
the best temper I ever met with; good humour seemed to spring from
a perennial source in his bosom. Pleasing and happy it is for his
lamented memory that all ranks and classes of the people have vied
in the expressions of grief for the loss of so able, sincere, and
unquestionable a patriot. It pleased him on several late occasions
to converse with me on his plans of those establishments he
meditated to connect with the employment of Mr. Cartwright.
Probably that gentleman has explained all or most of them to your
Grace. I shall be most happy to repeat them, and I am sure I need
not add that veneration for the memory of one who commanded the
regrets of a great nation, as well as the respect I owe to your
Grace’s character, will induce me most willingly to give you the
little assistance that is in my power to lessen the loss we have
all suffered.
‘I rejoice in hearing of your Grace’s determination to tread in
those steps which proved so direct a path to a well-earned and
most useful fame.
‘From eleven o’clock to-day till four, and from twelve till three
on Thursday, I am engaged with the Board, but will wait on your
Grace at any other time you are pleased to appoint.
‘I am, my Lord,
‘Most respectfully your Grace’s
‘Much obliged and most humble servant,
‘ARTHUR YOUNG.’
The Board has been busy in voting testimonies to the memory of the
Duke of Bedford, a race who should express most strongly their
veneration. The Bishop of Llandaff brought a dedication for the
volume now ready—a medal ordered and a bust. These people are carnal
and worldly, except, however, Mr. Wilberforce, who much promoted it,
and spoke often in favour of it. His example is authority, or I
should have considered the whole as a worldly-minded business, and
bad. This Duke, with vast powers and immense influence, set an
example to a town and populous neighbourhood in the country, and to
a great circle of friends and dependents, of an utter neglect, if
not contempt, of religion: all was worldly in his views; all his
motives tending that way, and his example mischievous to religion
and the souls of men. All this praise and veneration is therefore
very questionable, and, I think, unlawful; it is looking at objects
and judging of things with the herd, and therefore wrong; we cannot
go with them but to do mischief. Of what consequence is religion to
the world if farming and beneficence and good temper, and a life
highly useful in a worldly view, is to outweigh the evils of
irreligion, and so very bad an example in morals and want of piety?
I cannot approve of it, much as I liked the man in all worldly
respects.
Dr. Pearson talking of experiments observed that contrary
experiments to good ones are nothing. ‘I can get evidence for or
against anything: for the existence of angels and devils,’ &c. He is
a great infidel, one of the gang of philosophers of the Royal
Society, whose head, Sir J. B., is of the same mould, and whose
influence is all on the same side, and does much mischief. The
great, the wise, and the learned in this town, I fear, are nineteen
in twenty infidels. Shocking! dreadful to think of!!
Dined at the Duke of Grafton’s, Menil the Nimrod and Dr. Halifax
there. I never fail to combat his Unitarianism, but do no good; yet
his arguments are weak as water.
_20th._—At the Farmers’ Club. Carried with some difficulty a premium
of fifty guineas for the best plough; several voted against it,
because impossible to decide which of several should be the best!
These folks can hardly know the right end of a plough.
_25th._—Dined at the Bishop of Durham’s; Price, the
Vice-Chamberlain, there, and Mr. and Mrs. Bernard. I would have some
serious talk, and therefore asked the Bishop if he had read
Overton’s[214] book? He had, and highly approved it. He met with it
at York, and asked the Archbishop if he knew anything of the author,
and, to his surprise, found that he did not even know there was such
a man, and knew nothing of him. The Bishop promised to send me his
two charges and letters to the Deists. He was lately in company with
Otto,[215] and made enquiries what that minister conceived would be
the result of the present order of things in France relative to
religion. Otto thought that it would end in the establishment of
Protestantism;[216] this is remarkable and not improbable. The
Concordat will not be executed. I questioned the Bishop about Paley:
‘Mr. Y., I gave Dr. P. a living of 1,100_l._ a year for two great
works, the “Horæ Paulinæ” and “The Evidences,” and so I told him:
“But, Dr. P., as to your Moral Philosophy I disapprove of it, and
therefore do not mistake my motive”’!! He is engaged in a work now
at press on natural religion by the Bishop’s recommendation.
_27th._—Our third volume Part I. of the ‘Communications’ is out, but
I have yet heard nothing of the public opinion. The mere printing
this thin quarto has been the whole business of the Board, that is,
of the President, from last November; nothing else done of any sort
or kind. This is pitiable. He corrected the proofs and made them
dance up and down to Wycombe, and wait as if time was of no
consequence, and a whole Session will pass with this for its only
employment. My ‘Hertford’ is ready for printing, Pitt’s ‘Leicester,’
Howlett’s ‘Essex,’ and Plymley’s ‘Salop,’ and all at a stand; not
one proof of the second part of the ‘Essays’ at press in a
fortnight, and nothing else thought of. He is as fit to be President
of the Board as Grand Llama of Thibet; such is the way that all
public business is conducted. If I saw as much of the Treasury, have
no doubt but similar though not equal neglect would appear. But what
a table of cyphers to meet week after week and urge nothing to
satisfy the public. The whole of this flows from the most fastidious
coxcombical pretension to purity of language: the time is spent in
making phrases, as the French express it, which ought to be employed
in devising and executing plans of improvement and pushing on the
county surveys. Lamentable! A fine folly, however, has taken place;
the President and two other members went to see Salisbury’s
botanical garden—there he agreed to hire six acres at rent and taxes
14_l._ an acre for Board experiments 1½ miles from Hyde Park Corner.
I was not consulted, and 60_l._ paid for a lease before I knew a
word of the matter; then I was ordered to view it, which I did, but
no opinion asked. Next I was directed to draw up a plan of
experiments, which I did, without corn, for myriads of sparrows from
nurseries would eat all up. These were partly accepted and partly
rejected, and potatoes scouted because _people are sick of the name
of potatoes_. ‘Suppose another famine, my Lord, what will those
persons then think who are now sick of potatoes?’
It stands over for the Board. The whole idea is stark, staring
folly; it will cost 250_l._ a year, and the harvest well deserved
ridicule.
_April 11._—Last Wednesday, Lord Carrington took me into his room
and told me that his brother having the loan, he had spoken to him
to write me down for 500_l._; and that the rise having been 4 per
cent. he had directed it to be sold, and it would produce me 200_l._
clear of charges. I thanked him much. Such a thing never entered my
thoughts, and consequently surprised me much. It was very kind and
considerate, and I am certainly much obliged to him for it. Next
evening he sent for me, and gave me a draft on Smith and Payne,
221_l._ 17_s._ 6_d._, for the rise was 4½ per cent. I was thankful
to God for this, and meditated much on it. If God had not been
willing it would not have entered his head, and I find it
comfortable to attribute everything to God, as, indeed, everything
ought certainly to be attributed, and the more we trust entirely to
Him the better I am persuaded it is for us. This is the first
lottery for many years that I have been out of, but meeting with a
passage in some of Scott’s things against lotteries I would not put
in, or have anything to do with it. If God pleases to give me money
He has a thousand ways of doing it, and in these reflections I have
had hard work to guard my mind against the temptation to consider it
in the light of a reward which would be vile where there is no
merit, no desert. I offend too daily and hourly to deserve anything
but wrath at His hands, and this I cannot dwell on too much or too
deeply. But for two years past of His infinite goodness He has made
all money matters very favourable to me, and I thank Him for an
uninterrupted stream of His bounty without let or hindrance, and
this notwithstanding my sensual mind and many offences. I cannot be
too grateful for so much goodness, and I pray Him to give me grace
to be kind and charitable to others while He is so good to me. I
think of these things with fear and trembling, lest they should
throw my mind and conduct into an improper train.
Of late I have been ruminating on a short publication against the
Deists, to consist merely of an attack on them to show the
difficulties and absurdities of their system; it will consist
chiefly of extracts. I have read Bogue,[217] and Fuller and
Berkeley’s[218] ‘Minute Philosopher,’ and Leslie,[219] but none of
them come up to my idea. It should be unmixed with a defence of
Christianity, which should come in by way of appendix. I cannot get
it out of my head, and shall certainly attempt it; the worst is I
must read their works (_i.e._ of the Deists, &c.), which is bad, but
I shall not do it without prayer to God to fortify me against their
sophistries and delusions.
Yesterday morning I hoped and expected to leave London, but Lord
Pelham, Secretary of State, has sent us the returns of acres cropped
last year from the clergy of the Kingdom, and so a Committee to-day,
and to-morrow Good Friday; for Saturday I have taken places. Thus,
after twelve weeks in London, I lose four days. Very unlucky, and
very disagreeable, and for such nonsense as disgraces common sense.
He wrote a circular letter to all the clergy of the Kingdom last
June for this purpose, and from 10,000 parishes received accounts
from about a half. Precious ones, to be sure! A very probable matter
that the farmers would give the number of acres sown with every sort
of grain to the parsons; such attempts degrade Government in the
eyes of the people. What opinion can they have of men’s abilities
who expect thus to gain such facts?
I was in danger of returning to London without one entry in this
Journal, but going up to wipe my dear Bobbin’s book has thrown my
mind into a fit of melancholy that I know not how easily to get rid
of; yet will it go too soon? I have been whitewashing the house,
cleaning about it, and keeping all things in pretty good order to do
justice to the place as well as I am able; but my dear child’s
recollection brings forcibly to my heart the impression that it is
the will of God I should have hardly any chance of this prosperity
being kept in my family. My son has no children, nor likely to have
any. Mary, no chance of marrying, so that my posterity ends with the
next generation. The will of God be done, but human vanity and
feelings will rise in the bosom, and they cannot rise without these
unpleasant ideas forcing themselves into my mind. Bradfield has been
ours 200 years, and I should have liked that my name and family
might here have continued. But God has punished me for my sins; I
can have nothing at His hands that I do not deserve. Blessed be His
holy Name, be it my endeavour to submit to His will with resignation
and cheerfulness.
Betsy and O. dined with me on Tuesday, but the day so bad I could
not show her the round garden, which was got in very neat order. I
have had a letter from the Duke of Liancourt in which he speaks of
coming to England. I wrote to advise him against it, for he would, I
fear, be very ill received. The Duke of Grafton read me a letter
expressed in most indignant terms on the passage relative to him and
his family in Mons. de Liancourt’s travels.[220] The new Duke of
Bedford writes to desire me, in very kind terms, to go to the Woburn
sheep-shearing; asks it as a sort of favour. I had some very fine
days on coming down, but of late the weather has been cold, damp,
and melancholy, but I never come without wishing to live here
constantly. I cannot help wishing it, but I hope without
discontent—that would be black ingratitude to God. He fixes me where
I am; all, all things I am well persuaded come from His Almighty
hand, and therefore a cheerful submission is one great article of a
religious life. I brought down linen for the poor, but the number
that want, and I cannot relieve, is melancholy: I think I have fixed
straw work here, for above twenty-five have learned, and my
splitting machines are all distributed. Some days since I sent off
to Dunstable the first product of their work, and hope I shall have
a good sale for the poor children.
_June 1: London._—I keep this Journal as I do everything else, lest
good purposes be turned aside by trifles and want of resolution.
This is the thanksgiving-day; and last night was the Union
masquerade, and the coaches are now (5 A.M. in the morning)
rattling, and one fool in some monkey dress has walked by my
windows.
A letter from the Duke of Bedford asking me to go to Woburn, which I
shall do, and then I hope to Holkham, where Mr. Coke will take me in
his coach——and there I am on my ground for the survey of Norfolk;
but it is not yet decided whether I am to do it. It is a duty I owe
to God to use the vacation in the best manner I can, but I can ill
afford to travel at my own expense, determined as I am, if possible,
to pay 700_l._ of debts.
I should like to make a long journey in enquiries concerning the
poor; I know not what would be best, and have prayed to God to guide
me, but I am utterly displeased with myself in my religious
pursuits. My mind is sensual, and my progress slow; may the mercy of
the Almighty be shed on me in grace to mend. I have planned a new
work, ‘Deism Delineated,’ and made some progress, but do not please
myself. It must be done gradually as I read, and my time is fully
occupied with many pursuits.
Post to Chesterford, and having received a letter from the present
Duke of Bedford requesting me to meet Lord Somerville and Mr. Coke
at Woburn in order to consult upon the best means of carrying the
late Duke’s intentions into execution, especially in relation to the
sheep-shearing, I set off accordingly, and got to Woburn at night,
where I found Lord Somerville and Mr. Coke, and we considered the
matter as well as the late Duke’s proposals to breeders. At the
meeting the Duke’s attention was very pleasing, for he had great
solicitude to arrange everything down to the minutest trifles in
exactly the same manner as his brother had done on former occasions.
Before dinner, the first day, he came up to me and said, ‘Mr. Y., I
beg you will take your old seat, and preside at one end of the
table, for which purpose I have ordered a servant to keep your
chair.’ Everyone remarked the extreme attention of the duke that all
the business of the meeting should be well conducted.
_12th._—Heartily tired of London, and the scenes I have endured at
home. I left town, and took Betsy’s new chaise, which I had bought
for her (170 guineas) for Chesterfield, where her whole family were.
It was a hurrying day.
Next morning, Sunday, to church, and in the afternoon, contrary to
many feelings, to Baldock. No post-chaise to be had, so went on in
my whisky to Shefford, then post to Woburn by particular desire of
the Duke of Bedford, to concert matters with Lord Somerville and Mr.
Coke for the shearing business. It was 11 P.M. at night before I
arrived; nobody there except they and Cartwright.
On the Thursday, with Mr. Coke and Mr. Talbot, in Coke’s chaise to
Brandon, and on Friday morning to Holkham.
Farmed on Saturday and too much on Sunday, so here have been two
Lord’s days profaned. How difficult it is to be in the world and
preserve oneself uncontaminated by common practices! At church,
however, in the morning.
The sheep-shearing the four following days, at which I had never
been before. He does it handsomely; 200 dined on plate.
The dinner better than at Woburn, I think from vicinity to the sea,
which gives plenty of fish.
At the Holkham meeting, had I entertained my former feelings of
pride and discontent, I should not have been too well pleased, for
Mr. C. was personally civil and attentive; and yet he took not the
smallest public opportunity of mentioning me, the Board, my report,
or anything about it, though the occasion certainly called in reason
for it. Once this would have mortified me, but now I value such
matters not a straw. May God permit me to do my duty to Him, and as
to what men think of me, I regard it less than the idle wind. I went
to bed every night directly after coffee, between 9 and 10 P.M., and
was up between 3 and 4 A.M.
[In London] at Mrs. Montagu’s.—Sir Sidney not there; Ryder, the
Privy Councillor, and his brother and Montagu, had been at Paris,
and we had little conversation except on Bonaparte, &c. They
contended that every scrap of land is cultivated and much that was
waste. Sir F. combated the idea, and urged reports of prefects,
speeches, &c., as proving rents sunk, price of land fallen, produce
as four to six, population lessened, and the price of labour risen,
&c. &c. The last no proof of decline.
Ryder, on corn, observed that the same fact of wheat being dearer in
peace than in war is found in the French prices annexed to
Arnold.[221]
They would not be introduced to Bonaparte. Fox had much conversation
with him, and he plainly urged the fact that Wyndham was concerned
in the infernal machine, asserting that he had the proof. Sir F.
says that this proof was one George, being much with W., and
afterwards going on the expedition to Quiberon. A party was taken
amongst whose papers (on the arrests for the infernal machine) were
letters on that conspiracy to or from George, which combination was
Bonaparte’s _proof_. The Government, [he says, is] the completest
military despotism that ever was in the world.
At the theatre some Frenchmen finding Montagu was English, spoke
much of me; and said they wanted of all things that I should come
and examine France a second time under the new _régime_.
Dined with Swirenove, the Russian chaplain of the embassy, greatly
employed by the nobility of that Empire in agricultural commissions.
Patterson, bailiff to Lord Hardwicke, is going to Russia, and left
me to make a bargain for him, which I did. He is to have 100 guineas
first year, and increasing 20 yearly till 200 guineas; 60 for his
son-in-law, and 20 for his daughter, and 25 for a ploughman. Count
Rostopchin, at Woronowo, near Moscow, who has an immense estate, is
the man. A Russian count there, Benwakin, I think, [he named] whose
peasants pay him 30 roubles a year; but paper money so multiplied
and at 50 per cent. discount, that all prices are greatly risen
nominally. The Emperor’s going to farm so largely has already had a
great effect in turning the attention of the nobility to it. My
annuity yesterday remitted from Ireland, 72_l._[222] Thank God for
that uninterrupted stream of His bounty which I have enjoyed of late
years without let or hindrance, and which my vile ingratitude
returns so badly.
Lord Winchilsea called yesterday, and sat an hour with me. He is, I
believe, one of the very best of the nobility, and a really
respectable moral character, and benevolent to the poor.
_August 22: Bradfield._—Here is a blank of many weeks, which shows
once more how difficult it is to keep journal resolutions. After a
long tour in Norfolk, which would have afforded much pleasure had
not business occupied all my time, I met Betsy and O. at Harleston,
on the 9th.
War much talked of. The militia calling out. These things, whatever
the event, are certainly God’s providences. His will be done. But
when I consider the almost universal vice and iniquity of the
kingdom, the amazing protection and blessings which have been
showered down on us, and the vile ingratitude to God which pervades
all ranks in an utter forgetfulness of Him, or contempt of His
judgments, I must own I tremble at the thought.
I have lived some time without making a will, which has been very
wrong. I am under such complex settlements that I do not understand
what power I have; and Gotobed’s draft was so full of law jargon,
that I understand nothing of it. I wait no longer, but have made one
plain and simple, and such as I hope, with the blessing of God, will
not nor can be misunderstood. I have disposed of what I have to the
best of my conscience, that is, if I was to die at Christmas. Here
is only 300_l._ to be made up by sale of timber, ‘Annals,’ &c. &c.,
but a farm auction would produce more than 900_l._, and rents are
always behind, some over due. I pray to God for better economy, and
much hope, by a fresh and careful attention to my farm and ‘Annals,’
to bring things speedily to a better account.
I forgot 100_l._ due to me from the Board for Norfolk Report, so
that I evidently leave enough for all demands, probably without
cutting any timber.
I have never lived so well with Mrs. Young as for five weeks past.
War! To look into futurity is idle. The event is in the Lord’s hand,
and will depend on the number and piety of true Christians amongst
us, and not be governed by fleets and armies. France is so
unprepared at sea, that no war ever opened in that respect with
better prospects. But this is the arm of flesh, and may mark the
vanity of all trust in such circumstances.
The following letter to A. Y. may fitly close the chronicle of this
year:
‘Drinkstone: Dec. 8, 1803.
‘Sir,—A letter from Lord Euston to Sir Charles Davers recommends
that in case of invasion all horses and draft cattle that cannot
be driven out of the reach of the enemy be shot; and that all the
axle-trees or wheels of all carriages likely to fall into the
enemy’s hands be broken, the fullest assurance being given of
complete indemnification, provided no horses, draft cattle, or
carriages of any description fall into their hands through
negligence or want of proper exertion on the part of the owners.
‘All other stock is to be left for the use of the troops, unless
there be evident danger it may fall into the invader’s hands, in
which case the measures formerly determined upon must be resorted
to.
‘I am, Sir,
‘Your obedient humble servant,
‘JOSHUA GRIGBY.’
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Footnote 200:
_The Elements of Agriculture._
Footnote 201:
Mrs. Oakes, _née_ Betsy Plampin.
Footnote 202:
_A Collection of Theological Tracts_, by the Bishop of Llandaff, 6
vols.
Footnote 203:
This seems to have been an anticipation of table-turning.
Footnote 204:
Samuel Horsley, born 1733, died 1806, Bishop of St. Asaph’s, St.
David’s, and Rochester; celebrated for his controversy with Dr.
Priestley.
Footnote 205:
The _Anti-Jacobin_, or _Weekly Examiner_, was started by Canning,
J. H. Frere, and others; the editor was W. Gifford. It ran from
November 20, 1797, to July 9, 1798.
Footnote 206:
I print this as written, but can find no allusion in works of
reference to the circumstance mentioned.
Footnote 207:
C. de l’Héritier, born 1746, died 1800; botanist, and member of
the Académie des Sciences.
Footnote 208:
Cornelia Knight, author of _Dinarbas_, a continuation of
_Rasselas_, 1790, and other works.
Footnote 209:
Celebrated French geologist. Accompanied Napoleon to Egypt; on his
return was taken prisoner and confined at Messina by the King of
Sicily; on peace being made with Naples was liberated.
Footnote 210:
Robert Smith, son of a banker at Nottingham; M.P. for that town
from 1770 to 1796; supporter and friend of Pitt; raised to the
Irish peerage in 1796, to the English peerage in 1797.
Footnote 211:
Mrs. Orbell Oakes, the beautiful Betty Plampin of former
flirtations, is ‘the friend’ henceforth constantly alluded to.
Footnote 212:
Isaac Milner, 1751-1820, son of a poor weaver (brother of the no
less remarkable Joseph Milner), Dean of Carlisle, and Professor of
Mathematics at Cambridge.
Footnote 213:
John Russell, sixth Duke, ‘the great Duke of Bedford,’ who did
so much for agriculture, and in 1830 rebuilt Covent Garden
Market at a cost of 40,000_l._ Died 1839.
Footnote 214:
J. Overton, officer in the Excise; made telescopes, and had a
private press, where he printed books, mostly theological. Died
1838. See _Annual Register_ for that year.
Footnote 215:
L. W. Otto, Count of Morlay, was a German diplomatist in the
French service, and lived 1752-1817. See Didot, _Biographie
Universelle_.
Footnote 216:
This was not, perhaps, impossible. See the following note from the
_Daily News_ Paris correspondent three or four years ago:
‘An account of Napoleon I.’s visit to Breda in 1810 is now
appearing, for the first time, in the _Débats_, and is deeply
interesting. It will be seen that Napoleon I. at the zenith of his
power was on the point of becoming a Protestant.
‘The Emperor, after receiving several Deputies, went up to the
Catholic Vicar, who had written a speech, and proceeded to read
it. The Emperor, without replying, asked where were the Protestant
ministers. Then M. Ten Oever, in his robes, followed by the entire
Protestant clergy, was presented by the Prince de Wagram, and read
an address. The Emperor remarked with satisfaction that the
Protestant ministers wore their robes. Then, turning to the Roman
Catholic clergy, he asked, “How is it that you are not wearing
your frocks? What! I come to a Department [Holland had been
annexed to France] where the majority are Catholics, who were
formerly oppressed, and who have received more liberty from the
King, my brother, and myself, and your first act is to show me
disrespect! I have always found my Protestants faithful subjects.
I have six thousand at Paris and eight hundred thousand in my
empire, and I have no cause for complaint against a single one.
Fools that you are! _If the Concordat had not been accepted by the
Pope, I should have turned Protestant, and thirty million
Frenchmen would have followed my example._ [The italics are my
own.] You have calumniated Protestants, representing them as men
teaching principles contrary to the rights of sovereigns. I have
no better subjects. They serve in my palace in Paris. It was not
Luther, nor Calvin, but the German princes who declined to submit
to your fanatical yoke. The English were quite right to part
company with you. You would like to set up scaffolds and stakes,
but I will prevent you. All authority comes from God.”’
Footnote 217:
D. Bogue, D.D., _On the Divine Authority of the New Testament_,
1801.
Footnote 218:
Bishop of Cloyne, _Alciphron; or, the Minute Philosopher_, 1732.
Footnote 219:
C. Leslie, died 1722, author of _The Rehearsals: Tracts against
the Deists and Socinians_, 4 vols.
Footnote 220:
_Voyage en Amérique_, 2 vols. 1800. It seems that the French
_émigrés_, after being most hospitably treated in England, showed
little return in the way of graciousness. See _Letters of Maria
Josepha Holroyd_; also the _Jerningham Letters_.
Footnote 221:
Ambrose Marie Arnault, French economist, 1750-1812. See Vapereau.
Footnote 222:
See Chap. IV. ‘Ireland,’ for this curious bargain, by which A. Y.,
instead of a sum total of 700_l._, in 1776 was to receive 72_l._
per annum!
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