CHAPTER XVI. Last Years, 1808-1820

LAST YEARS, 1808-1820

Gradual loss of sight—Illness and death of Mrs. Oakes—Daily routine—A disappointment—Riots—Death of Mrs. Young—Anecdotes of Napoleon—A story of the Terror—National distress—Close of diary—The end.

In February I was obliged to take a reader as my sight was failing fast.

February 27.—For some months past I have had the comfort of seeing my debts drawing to such a conclusion that I might consider myself as free; and I have certainly thought too much of it, and rested too much satisfaction in it, and not sufficiently been thankful to God for so great a blessing. If I am so ungrateful as not to thank God sufficiently for blessings, how can I expect to avoid misfortunes? My eyes! My eyes! Is not His hand upon me here, too, for the same reason?

What has been my gratitude to Him for their preservation during sixty-seven years? and what uses have I made of them?

April 4.—How employment can be carried further than with me I am at a loss to conceive. Notwithstanding the state of my eyes I am generally up at 4 A.M., though I do not call St. Croix [his reader] before five.

Last Tuesday I read the first lecture that was, I believe, ever read on agriculture in England, my subject ‘Tillage at the Board,’ The room was well filled, and several of much ability and more of rank; but the day was a bad one, which kept others away. I found that they were well satisfied.

So many years in the habit of incessant employment has made any idleness irksome to me. But my eyes force me to have time for contemplation; and I pray to God to enable me to fill it as a Christian ought to do whose conversation is in heaven; but my mind will run out too much on worldly objects, and sometimes on sinful ones.

How much in all things do I want washing in the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness!

May 13.—Much of my time has of late been lost by people calling on the malt business. I am tired of sugar and malt before the question comes into the House of Commons, which will not be till Monday. I sent another letter to Cobbett last Monday, but he did not insert it. I care little about it, and I wish that I cared less, for these questions only connect one more nearly with the world than a Christian ought to be connected with it.

However, it is in my vocation, and my conscience is not at all wounded by the part I take, for I am well persuaded that the consequences of this measure will be mischievous and tend to scarcity, which is so greatly to be guarded against for a thousand reasons. Sir John Sinclair spoke once against it in the House, and he tells me that Percival looked as black and indignant at him as if he had been talking treason.

July 25: Bradfield.—I am tired of the thoughts of such a journal; had I kept it of late it would have been employed on my departing sight. I can see to write a little, but can read scarcely anything.

Praised be the mercy of God that enables me to pay a reader; St. Croix is with me. And I have been hard at work on my ‘Elements’ to get those papers into such order as to want as little as possible my own sight in the future progress of completing them. Whenever it may be the will of God to make me quite blind, oh! may I receive His dispensation with the submission of a Christian!

1809. May 16.—April twelvemonth I read my own lectures by means of Baker’s great hand and black ink; but last month Mr. Cragg read the two, and one new one for me, for I am unable to do it; yet I can write a little, but cannot read when written. The Lord’s will be done, and may He sanctify the affliction and turn all my attention to Himself.

Mrs. Oakes arrived at Bury last Sunday fortnight; and on Sunday se’nnight she broke a blood-vessel and brought up two spoonfuls, and on Saturday evening last had another smaller attack. My own fear and opinion is that it will end fatally. Her fatigue coming from Bath and Bristol, and at London, contrary to advice, has caused it. I have prayed most earnestly for her. Oh! may the Lord of all mercy hear and grant my petitions. My thoughts are all employed on the state of her soul. The long intimacy and friendship I have had for her, and the kindness and attention I have ever received from her, now lacerate the heart with wounds that sink deep; and my conscience reproaches me that I have not done all that I might have done to turn her heart more to God.

May 18.—I am very, very unhappy, and cannot think of her without wretchedness. In every worldly respect what a loss will she be to me! A placid, sweet temper, with a good understanding; that ever rec^d. [received] me with kindness, and attention, and preference, with whom I was at my ease, and where I could be at any time; a resource in blindness fast coming on that would have been great. The hope has fled and a sad and dreary vacancy, which freezes me, is in its place.

May 19.—Good news though not of better health. Hastead has been with her, to be sure, by desire, which shows an attention to her soul.

Poor thing! she has been bled twice more, and the blood as highly inflamed as ever; bleeding gives relief to her lungs.

The Duke of Bedford and Mr. Coke [have written] desiring me to go to Woburn and Holkham; but all great meetings, and anything like festivity, have for some years become so insipid and disagreeable that I shall have done with them wholly. They, like so many other things, are links of that worldly harness which it is high time for me to throw down for ever.

June 1.—Read the ‘Edinburgh Review’ on ‘Cœlebs in Search of a Wife,’ by Sydney Smith. Wretched stuff; false and frivolous, reasoning on cards, assemblies, plays, &c.

June 3.—Yesterday, as the ‘Edinburgh Review’ was read to me, I was much struck with a reference to Necker on the finances, saying that 7,000 pedigrees of the nobility in the archives of the old Government were destroyed in the Revolution. It occurred at once to me that this was the exact number of names of men slain in Revelations. It is in the eleventh chapter: ‘The tenth part of the city fell in a great earthquake, and 7,000, &c.’ The commentators all seem to have reckoned France as the tenth part of the city; but of the names of men they knew not what to make, but 7,000 pedigrees answer to a wonderful degree, and the coincidence of numbers is truly amazing.

June 6.—Yesterday’s letter bad. Poor thing, she has been bled eight ounces, and much inflamed; had been out twice, and I suppose took cold. She wrote herself, and there are some comfortable expressions relative to the state of her mind with regard to religion. I have little hope of her recovery.

July 4.—Betsy continues just the same, whether better or worse, the cough does not go, and therefore I conclude the case bad. But, thanks to God, her mind, I hope, goes on; she has the Testament read to her by all the four children.

July 6.—I work at the ‘Elements’ every day, and find every time they are read to me something to cancel, something to add, and much to reconsider and correct.

July 8.—The gradual declension of my sight in viewing the scenery of this place, but especially in knowing faces, makes me surprised that I can manage to write; I cannot read in the least degree, or know anything of the views in Lord Valentia’s Travels. It is a very great deprivation, but much better than feeling the torture of very painful distempers, so that I am very thankful to God for the less affliction. It was, I doubt not, very necessary for me to have some heavy one, and what I am likely to suffer is comparatively a mercy to what might have been the dispensation of the Almighty.

Mrs. O. the same, and the weather as unfavourable to her; I drank tea there on Thursday.

July 19.—Drank tea with her last night. [She was] bled in the morning, and going to have a blister. All her symptoms worse, I suppose she has caught cold.

August 4.—I have been so provoked, my dear Jane, with so many of my letters miscarrying that I am determined to begin a book to use some safe opportunity of conveying it to you, for I know nothing so provoking as to write twenty letters for one or two that arrive safe. In your last you made many enquiries into what I was doing? How I passed my time, &c. &c. A very short account will answer this. I rise from four to five in the morning, pray to God for half an hour, more or less, according as He affords me the spirit to do it. At half-past five I call Mr. St. Croix, who comes to me at six, and reads a chapter in Scott’s Bible with notes. I then dictate such letters as want to be written, after which we sit down to my ‘Elements of Agriculture,’ which have been more than thirty years in hand, and at which I have worked for two years past with much assiduity, wishing to finish it before my sight is quite gone. At half-past eight the servant brings me the water to shave; from nine to ten we breakfast, and sit down again to work for two or three hours, as it may happen, as I take the opportunity of sunshine for a brisk walk of an hour, very often backwards and forwards on the gravel between yours and the round garden. I wish much to have my thoughts during that hour employed upon death and the other world, but my weakness and want of resolution are lamentable, so that I sometimes think on every subject except that which I intend should occupy me. We then sit down to work again, till the boy and his dicky arrive with the letters and newspapers. When they are read we work again, but usually catch half an hour for another walk before dinner. When alone we dine at four, and always at that hour in the height of summer, but if any person be in the house, as it prevents an evening work, five is the dinner hour. What is read afterwards is usually some book not immediately connected with work. At eight we drink tea and go to bed at ten, but the Sunday is an exception; you know there is service but once a day. At the church hour, whether morning or afternoon (when no service), about thirty children from Bradfield, Stanningfield, and Cuckfield come to read in the Testament and repeat their Catechism, and undergo some examination from Mrs. Trimmer’s ‘Teacher’s Assistant.’ Whatever is well done receives a mark against the name; the girl or boy that has fewest marks receives nothing, the next a halfpenny, next a penny, and so on, all which does not amount to more than two or three shillings. I cannot boast much of their progress, though I pay for most of them as constant scholars. In the evening, between six and seven o’clock, forms are set in the hall to receive all that please to come to hear a sermon read, and the numbers who attend amount from twenty to sixty or seventy, according to weather and other circumstances. Such, my dear Jane, is the tenor of my life both in summer and winter while I am in the country.

December 1.—Here is a pretty breach in the continuance of this book letter, but you are not to fail to remember that during this period I have sent off two letters to you, not short ones, which, from Smirenove’s account of the conveyance, I hope may get to you safe. I have also received two short ones from you, and another from Arthur at Odessa, describing the severity of the winter, and an escape he had of being burnt in a Tartar combustion of old grass, but, most provokingly, saying not one word of his own intentions, or a syllable of what he is about. This is very mortifying to me, for what are frost and fire to me compared with his own plans and views? Nor does he say a word about coming to England; and the idea of the possibility of your coming in autumn is now all past by, and I am precluded from the possibility of seeing you till next summer, by which time I shall have no eyes to see you.

April 9, 1810.—The discovery lately made by your letter of the enormous expense of postage must limit my correspondence to private hands, and will not permit the communication of anything but topics the most immediately interesting to your future motions. My notes of the riots, therefore, are preserved for your eye by copying a letter to Mrs. Oakes:—

‘I know not what reports may have reached you relative to the state of London, nor what newspapers you read, but I have been witness to such a scene as I hope, through the blessing of God, will not occur again. On Friday night the mob was extremely agitated in Piccadilly, especially near Sir Francis Burdett’s, and they took the unaccountable whim of forcing everyone to illuminate. I lighted up as other people did, and when I went to bed left orders with the servant who sat up to be sure to keep the candles burning till daylight, instead of which, when others put out their candles, ours were extinguished also. At two o’clock the mob returned and broke many windows, and ours among the rest. The servant ran into my room and waked me out of my sleep to tell me the windows were smashing. We hurried the candles out again, and, upon examination, found the alarm exceeded the damage, for only three panes were broken. All Saturday passed in a very quiet manner, and in the evening the illumination was more general, but troops pouring into London from all quarters, we hoped to be secure without violence. The mob, however, were so determined, that by twelve o’clock we heard platoons firing in Piccadilly, and a few in other directions more remote, the Riot Act having been read. A person who saw much, and clearly, told me that orders being received by the commanding officer to fire with ball, about fifty cavalry fired twice over the heads of the people, that the whizzing of the balls might inform them what they had to expect; still, however, they were audacious, insomuch that the officer was forced to fire on them. In five minutes all Piccadilly was cleared. We afterwards heard a little more distant firing, and a party of horse scoured up Sackville Street, firing in a scattered manner at the flying mob; but, from the reports of the pieces, I believe with powder only. The reports relative to the mischief done are extremely vague and not to be depended on. Some say that one trooper was killed, others three or four; what was the loss suffered by the mob is, I believe, quite unknown, but certainly it was very inconsiderable. During Sunday the agitation of the streets threatened a bad night, but Government had brought in so many troops, that had we known it we need not have been alarmed. A train of artillery in the park, horses attached and matches lighted, two pieces of artillery in Berkeley Square, two others in Soho Square, and many more about the town, and doubtless many others of which I knew nothing, all ready at a moment’s warning, with parties of troops scouring the streets, showed such a state of preparation as effectually awed the mob, notwithstanding the efforts of Sir F. Burdett to inflame them. He was at his house ready to resist the Speaker’s warrant for commitment, and had the audacity to write to the sheriff to bring the posse comitatus to assist him in so doing, printing the letter in the Sunday’s newspaper. They say he is still at his house, and that he will not be seized before the House meets this day. It really is a tremendous moment, for if they do not carry it with a high hand, as a means of prevention, we shall have an organised mob and great mischief will follow. It is expected that the gallery of the House will to-day be cleared by acclamation and a Bill brought in to suspend the Habeas Corpus Act, and the rascally authors, printers, and publishers of those inflammatory papers which have done so much mischief seized and imprisoned; but whether the Ministry, with such a violent opposition, will have resolution enough for this will depend on the influence the Marquis of Wellesley has among his colleagues in the Cabinet. I am much inclined to expect that good will result by drawing close to the Ministry all the honest men in both Houses, with all others that might be wavering; for it is a question now whether we are to be governed by Parliament or the mob. Many circumstances, however, are unfortunate, and not the least, that though the public revenue amounts to 62,000,000l., yet the expenses of the year will rise to above 80,000,000l., and must be made good by means that will occasion the necessity of having additional taxes. This will cause a yell for peace—and such a peace as must be ruinous if made. We have also one adversary armed at all points, and whose depth of policy is such as ought ever to create alarm and the exertions of all the talents the country possesses to oppose him.’

May 3, 1811.—I do not think that for the last twenty years of my life my general health has been better than at the moment when discontent, I fear, with the will of God, induced me to oppose that will. In the most mild and merciful manner He had nearly deprived me of sight without my feeling the smallest pain. Heavy as this dreadful deprivation is and must remain to me, I feel, in proportion to my convalescence, that even blindness itself may be a temptation; as a dispensation from God, it must have been meant as a calamity, and a calamity to be deeply felt. Is there not danger then that a mind which has been accustomed to look upon the favourable side of objects, should gradually so accustom itself to its new situation as to deprive it in a good measure of the misery which might be the direct intention of the Almighty? The capacity of continuing the attention formerly given to old objects by means of the eyes of others, may leave the mind almost as full of the world as when by sight I could enjoy its visible objects; this is a circumstance which ought undoubtedly to be guarded against, that is, prayed against. For a man of seventy to be struck blind and to continue worldly-minded, with his head and heart full of objects which, though not of sight, command attention, is to tempt God to send some deeper affliction in order to bring his heart home to its true centre. This is a subject which merits great attention, and may the Lord of His mercy enable me to consider it as I ought to do!

May 8.—Twelve o’clock at noon my dear friend Mrs. Oakes breathed her last, after a long severe illness, and many and great sufferings. Thanks to God she was attentive throughout this sad period, as I am well informed, to the state of her soul with God. Thus is terminated in this world a very intimate friendship of twenty-six years, with a temper so mild and cheerful, with manners so gentle and persuasive, that had it pleased the Almighty to have spared her, she would have been the source of great comfort to me in my melancholy state.

May 16, 1812.—At this time a new oculist appeared in town, a desideratum much wanted. The highest accounts were universally circulated of his skill and success, and the most unequivocal good effects attended his new attempts at removing cataract. I was unwilling to go to him, cherished no hope of my own case, and considered this calamity as the appointment of Providence, concerning which I had but one wish—that of submitting to it with the most unaffected resignation. But the persuasions of my friends, more sanguine than myself, and the high reputation of Mr. Adams at length prevailed, and a day was appointed finally to decide my state—to give some expectation of recovery or to destroy all hope.

The feelings of the mind may be subdued, but they cannot be destroyed. From the reluctance I showed to name the day even after resolving to go, the dread of hearing my doom, and the natural desire to enjoy a little longer the precious glimmering of hope, may be inferred. At length the long-wished-for dreaded morning came. The sun shone brightly as I walked to the house; I felt its warmth, and the thought that perhaps his light may still, ere long, ‘revisit these sad eyes,’ lent new interest to his cheering beams.

The man who has never had his mind enlivened and his senses cheered by contemplating the scenes of nature or the employment of his fellow creatures, would feel much less at the thought of learning whether this would ever be his fate or not, than he who, once having felt in every variety the extent of the blessing, loses it, learns by experience the sadness of the contrast, and goes with a throbbing heart to enquire if any hope exists of again enjoying that power he would gladly forfeit all his possessions to recover.

I was shown into a room, where I waited a few minutes (they were painful ones), and Mr. Adams appeared. ‘I wish, sir, to be informed what is the state of my eyes,’ looking very attentively at him. ‘You have not, sir, undergone an extraction for cataract?’ ‘That you must decide.’ ‘Why, yes, and I fear unsuccessfully.’ ‘Is there any hope of recovery?’ Mr. Adams started, and looked down with evident marks of bitter disappointment the first instant he saw me. ‘I grieve, sir, to say that the eye itself is destroyed, the cornea gone, and there has been such an excessive discharge of the vitreous humour, that the coats are collapsed.’ ‘No chance, then, of course?’ ‘I fear, sir, none;’ then, after a pause, ‘I believe I am addressing Mr. A. Young?’ I bowed. ‘I have heard your case differently reported; it was the subject of much conversation, and excited unenviable interest last spring when it happened, and I had hoped that it would have been possible to relieve you, but I now see the contrary.’ ‘I am much obliged to you, sir, good morning,’ I replied, and came away.

Mr. Adams was a young man, his aspect was pleasing and intelligent, and there was a sorrowful look when I departed that well became the sad occasion. There were two things worth repeating on that morning, one was his liberality in clearing his brother professor from the character of carelesness, which he endeavoured to do. I complained that I was sure I could not have been well prepared. But Mr. Adams replied that preparation was not necessary for extraction, that people of the worst habits had been treated in that way with no preparation and complete success; that the fault was not of the operator, but of the operation, which must always be liable to failure. Mr. Adams’ own method of removing cataract was not this ill-fated scheme of extraction. The second remark is this. It had become much the custom to use hot water for the eyes when weak or inflamed. The author of this memoir had been afflicted with a transient indisposition of them, and on application to Phipps, hot water had been recommended and used for a twelvemonth without effect.

Mr. Adams, on being questioned with regard to the expedience of its continuance, decidedly answered, that by increasing the relaxation, hot water would only augment the disease; prescribed the frequent use of the citrine ointment (to be had at any druggist’s) and cold water constantly. On the way home, I was for a few moments depressed. ‘How happy,’ I cried, ‘are those beings who can see; no one can tell the misery of blindness, the dark gloom over that mind never cheered by the light of the sun, especially now with me, who am certain never to see again. If it were not for religion, I should wish to be the poor man who is to be hanged next Monday; but, thank God, I can consider the whole affair as His appointment, intended not for a curse but a blessing, and can reconcile my mind to it completely as His will. You will see,’ I added after a pause [presumably addressing Mr. Adams], smiling, ‘I shall be as cheerful and happy as ever,’ and so I was.

1814.—This year I paid much attention to the ‘Elements.’

My son came from Russia.

1815.—Arthur, Jane, and myself went post to London the last day of January, Mary remained at Bradfield with Mrs. Young, who was unable to move.

About this time ‘Baxteriana’ was published. Through the following spring I was, at various times, too apt to fall into reflections which tended, more than they ought to have done, to discontent; but in thirteen weeks to the present day I have not once entered the doors of any other person than those of Mr. Wilberforce, and I have not dined once with him, having been only at breakfast for the pleasure of hearing his Exposition and Prayer; for the conversation at and after breakfast has been entirely desultory, and not once on any religious question. And as to any Christian calling on me, John Babbington, from Peterborough, once breakfasted here, and is, I believe, never in town without calling. Mrs. Strachey, who was in town a month, was so kind as to call three or four times; Mrs. John Wayland twice, and here, I think, except Miss Francis, dining once a week, is the whole amount of my communication with those whose conversation would please me.

It would be natural to suppose that a poor old blind man who, through the blessing of God, retains his health and strength might have received something more of friendly attention than this, but such discontent should be banished, for let me not a single moment forget the great mercies of God to me; and while many are on beds of torment from dreadful diseases, I am free from bodily pain. These are points that should give a perpetual spring of gratitude in my bosom, and if the neglect which I have been apt to think of too much turns my attention more to the Lord Jesus, it is a benefit and not a misfortune. Let me only take care to be looking unto Jesus, and then I shall esteem, in the manner it deserves, all that the world can do for me.

Monday, March 6, most execrable riots began in London, on account of the Corn Bill, then in the House of Commons, attended with circumstances proving decisively the abominable effects (sufficiently proved before) of printing in all the newspapers those violent and mischievous speeches which are made as much to the Gallery as to the House, and can be intended for nothing else but to inflame the people, which they have done to a degree of desperation. Petitions from a multitude of cities and towns pour in to the Houses every day they meet, and, in fact, the prayer of them all is to beg that they, the petitioners, may be starved, which would probably be the result of granting their desire. 600,000 qrs. of French wheat of an excellent quality have been poured into our markets to meet a crop generally mildewed; this has reduced the price on an average of the kingdom to 59s. per quarter, and that average taken in so preposterous a way that the real price fairly ascertained would not amount to 50s.; 90s. per qr. [quarter] would not pay the farmer in so bad a year. If importation was to be continued, at least half the farmers in England would be ruined, and wheat consequently must rise in a year or two to scarcity, and if importation should be prevented, by many probable events to famine. Country labourers throughout the kingdom are in the greatest distress, as I know from many correspondents. For want of employment they go to the parish, but these poor families never petition, even when starving, and a Legislature which attended not to their interest would deserve the abuse now vomited forth by towns. From thirty to forty houses at London have had their windows broken, many their doors forced, and everything in them destroyed; and after much mischief, with general anxiety and apprehension, the military were called forth; but it was the last day of the week before their numbers were sufficient to secure any tolerable tranquillity.

Monday, March 13.—I breakfasted with Mr. Wilberforce: a file of soldiers in his house, because his servants had been violently threatened that it should be speedily attacked.

The bawler bearing last week, in the House, read a denunciation in a petition from Carlisle against the Board of Agriculture, which made it necessary for me to hire a bedchamber elsewhere, as blindness would not permit an escape by the roof of the house.

I wrote to Mr. Vansittart, transcribing a resolution of the Committee of 1774, proposing to lay the millers under an assize. The Bill for that purpose passed the Commons, but was lost in the Lords.

In Mr. Vansittart’s answer to me, he mentioned the difficulties in the way, but observed that as Mr. Franklin Lewis had taken up the business of bread and flour in the House, he would mention to him what I proposed. From Lord Sidmouth’s speech it seems they intend to remove the assize of bread, which will leave in case of scarcity the bakers without protection in case of riots, and also leave the millers in full possession of their rascality.

At Mr. Wilberforce’s I met Miss Francis and Mr. Legh Richmond, who read to us, with Lord Calthorpe and General Macaulay, a most interesting letter from a Russian Princess, describing her conversion to vital Christianity by Mr. Pinkerton instructing her children, and her translating into Russian the ‘Dairyman’s Daughter,’ and thanking Mr. Richmond for his other tracts sent her for the same purpose. Her English extremely good, and real Christianity, with expressions of the deepest humility, breathing in every line.

This was an eventful year, for my poor wife breathed her last after a long illness, and it gives me great comfort to be informed that she showed great marks of resignation and piety. My daughter was with her to the last.

May 12.—A few days ago, writing to Miss Francis, I used the expression, ‘If a Christian was to call on me it should be entered in a pocket-book with a mark of exclamation.’ Mr. Wilberforce saw this note, and yesterday morning Mr. Pakenham called on me, and introduced himself by saying that he came for some conversation with me, by desire of Mr. W. He was quite unknown to me, but I found that he was the grandson of that Lord Longford with whom I was in Ireland in 1776, forty years ago, which lord was in the Navy; and the present gentleman is also in that employment, about twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age; his father living and an admiral. I soon found that he was a firmly established Christian, ready to converse on the good subject, which he did with good sense and no inconsiderable energy.

He is in mourning for General Pakenham, and the Duchess of Wellington is his first cousin. Mentioning Miss Francis, he said he met her twice at Mr. Wilberforce’s, and speaking in commendation of her, I told him that she was to dine with me at five o’clock, and that it would give me much pleasure if he would meet her; this he readily complied with, and came accordingly.

I have not had so much religious conversation for an age past; and had not Dr. Halliday from Moscow called between seven and eight, expecting to see my son, this conversation would have been uninterrupted. I wish he had come on some other day. Remarking that I had some apprehension of the ensuing war, because we should be, in fact, fighting for the restoration of the Pope, the Jesuits, and the Inquisition, Mr. P. replied, that Lord Liverpool had informed Mr. Wilberforce that Bonaparte was reconciled to the Pope, pretending to be a most dutiful son of the Church. It seems agreed by all that the first victory gained on either side will have most decisive consequences. I hope I shall hear more of this young man, whose determined avowal of his religious principles pleases me much.

May 15.—Breakfasted at Mr. Wilberforce’s. General Macaulay there; he told me that in his late tour in France, travelling from Lyons to Geneva, he met with a Monsieur Michaud, who, speaking much of his farm and offering to show it, the general accompanied him to view it, and found everything in the highest state of management, and so much superior to all the rest of the country, that he enquired into the origin of such great superiority. The answer was, ‘My cultivation is entirely that of Monsieur Arthur Young, whose recommendations I have carried into practice with the success you see.’

Much conversation about Bonaparte; the general is well persuaded that the allies will be entirely successful, as B. is, and must be, very badly provided to resist them, and that the first campaign will carry them to Paris.

May 17.—Last night, being at West Street Chapel, Mr. Gurney, after the sermon, came into the pew, when I told him he had not performed his promise, by calling, on which he came home with me, and gave us a long account of his life and conversion, beginning at four years old with a magpie which his father found in a nest, in a haunted wood, where he went at night in search of a reputed ghost, and which proved to be only a white pony. This magpie was, by a strange series of little events, his introduction to Drummond, the banker, and to procuring himself a school and college education, a knowledge of several of the nobility, and eventually, through Lord Exeter, the appointment to the Rectory of St. Clement Danes; and all this from having been no more than a poor country labourer’s son, and one of twenty-two children. The detail was very interesting, from being not only well told, but, from the providence of God, clearly marked in many little circumstances, and attended by what to him were great events. These were so remarkable as to induce him to make many memoranda, and to think at times that they ought to be published, but on this point he does not seem to be at all determined. I urged it strongly as a sort of duty. He is uncommonly lively and animated in conversation, and contrived to talk with little interruption, from drinking tea and smoking several pipes, till twelve o’clock at night. I much hope that we shall see him often.

1816.—This was a very barren year, for the memoranda made are uncommonly few, but among them is the preparation for the publication of ‘Oweniana.’ The extraction from my religious papers of those published under the titles of ‘Baxteriana’ and ‘Oweniana’ has greatly diminished the mass, but the remainder is considerable, and increases every year.

February.—Last Tuesday se’nnight Sir John Seabright, coming up to me, said: ‘Mr. Young, the Archdukes of Austria desire to be introduced to you,’ and the Archduke John, who Seabright said was the farmer, began a conversation on agriculture which, as many persons were around, was very short. Some days afterwards Mr. Ackerman, of the Strand, called to inform me that his Imperial Highness Archduke John desired to have more conversation with me, and in three or four days he called and made many enquiries into those points upon which, I suppose, he had most doubts, contrasting many circumstances with the system of Austrian peasants, who, by his account, are in general the proprietors of their little farms even to the amount of as little as three or four acres. In the conversation I took occasion to mention my son being in the Crimea, and intending to return to England by Vienna. In a most obliging manner he desired me to write to him to tell him to be sure not to pass Vienna without making himself known to him (the Archduke), as he would show him everything worth attending to in agriculture. The conversation was in French, for he speaks no English. It is a pity that he will go away without seeing anything of Norfolk or Suffolk.

Sir J. Sinclair just come from Paris. He saw Sylvestre there, the secretary to the Royal Society of Agriculture, who told him that agriculture saved his life in the Revolution. He was in prison and brought to trial, and told that his life should be saved if he could show that he had ever done anything really useful to the Republic. He replied that he had unquestionably done good, for Arthur Young’s ‘Travels through France’ contained much highly important information, and in order to spread it through the Republic in a cheap form, ‘I published a useful abridgement,’ he said, ‘which has been much read, and has had important effects. I was pardoned and set at liberty,’ and then, turning to Sir John, he said, ‘Tell your friend, Mr. Young, that he was thus the means of saving my life.’

February 17.—The Board met for the first time last Tuesday, but had no business whatever before them. I suggested the propriety of sending a circular letter throughout the kingdom, in order to ascertain by facts the real state of the farming world. They approved the proposal, observing that not a moment should be lost, and I retired in order to draw out a letter with Queries. This they examined and altered to their mind; it was immediately despatched to the printer, and all the rest of the week has been employed in drawing out lists of persons from the reports, to whom these letters have been addressed, post paid, to the amount of 12l., and many yet to despatch on Monday.

The replies have just begun to come in; by two valuable ones from Maxwell, near Peterborough, and from Page, of Cobham, the probability is that much important information will be gained, and a basis laid for a very interesting publication, but I greatly question whether they will permit any public use to be made of the information, and I suspect that it will disclose so lamentable a state of distress, that it may prove somewhat dangerous, or, at least, questionable to make it public. What are we to think of the infatuation of Government in laying on a property tax at such a moment, rather than borrow a few millions to avoid the necessity, one of the great evils resulting from our Government being in all money matters little better than a Committee of the Bank?

Answers to the circular letter of the Board, which was despatched throughout the kingdom the first week in February, flowed in rapidly till about April 10, and they describe such a state of agricultural misery and ruin as to be almost inconceivable to those who do not connect such a defect with the utter want of circulating medium; the ruin of the country banks, and the great want of confidence in those that remain, with an issue of Bank of England notes utterly insufficient to fill up the vacuity thus occasioned, has made the want of money so great as to cripple every species of demand.

It is difficult to pronounce what the consequence of the present ruined state of agriculture will prove, but I must confess that I dread a scarcity, which must have dreadful effects, coming at a period when such multitudes are almost starving for want of employment, even with such cheap bread. What must be their situation should it be dear? To my astonishment, Government seems utterly insensible of the danger, and has not taken one single step to prevent it, or to meet it should it come.

March.—Lord Winchilsea, who I have not seen for some time, called on me yesterday and mentioned his having been long absent in France, Spain, &c. He was at Marseilles when Bonaparte landed from Elba, in Provence; every circumstance was previously arranged. Messina, at Marseilles, kept everything quiet on his left, and the [garrison?] at Grenoble was prepared to receive him; of all this there was no doubt. Uncertain of what might be the event in France, his lordship embarked instantly for Barcelona; from thence he crossed Spain to Lisbon, and throughout the whole of his Spanish journey he did not pass through a town that was not in a state of ruin and desolation. He everywhere enquired the cause, and was always told ‘that the French had done all the mischief,’ with many expressions of cordial detestation. He would not have conceived a country to be in a more wretched and deplorable state.

April 24.—Miss Way and Miss Neve, daughter of the late Sir Richard Neve, both high Calvinists and constant hearers of Mr. Wilkinson, called on me the other day in order to converse on religion. They appear to me to be perfectly sincere, but seem wedded to the high Calvinistic notions of that preacher. Miss Way lent me two manuscript sermons of his full of predestination, and the impossibility of falling from grace; her sister took them in shorthand. This day Miss Neve called on me again, bringing with her a Miss Johnson, another Calvinistic lady, who, being in Italy with some relations, went to Elba to see Bonaparte, and had much conversation with him. He had told somebody, who told the Johnsons, that he wanted to see my ‘Travels in France,’ which he had often thought of reading, but came to Elba without them. Mr. Johnson had these ‘Travels,’ and took them with him to Elba and presented them to the Emperor, who expressed much pleasure at receiving them, and Mr. Johnson afterwards heard that he had read them eagerly and with much approbation. His countenance indicates a steadfast, resolute, determined mind, and he is known to abhor all doubtful and hesitating answers that do not come immediately to the point in question. In the very short interview that took place he was standing with his hands in his breeches pockets clinking the money in them; but she observed that his nails as well as his teeth were dirty. He enquired, when they were in Provence, and especially on the coast, whether there were troops at Antibes or at Nice. This conversation took place on the Thursday, and he left the island on the Sunday following. He asked her name, and on the reply of Helen, ‘Oh! I am to be sent to St. Helena, this is ominous of my voyage.’ The interview was very short with him, but with the Bertrands the conversation was rather longer.

I have finished reading the first volume of ‘Gibbon’s Miscellaneous Works,’ published by Lord Sheffield. Of mere worldly production, it is the most interesting that I have read for many years, more especially Gibbon’s own memoirs of himself. I have been acquainted with Lord Sheffield above forty years, and more than once met Gibbon at his house; and, if I remember rightly, the first time I was at Sheffield Place, which, I think, was in 1770, being invited by him on my advertising the intentions of the Eastern tour. Mr. Foster and Lady Elizabeth his wife, daughter of the Earl of Bristol, were there. I thought her a most fascinating woman—an opinion many times afterwards confirmed by often meeting her at Ickworth. I was not therefore surprised to find such advantageous mention made of her by Gibbon, but, alas! the whole volume has not one word of Christianity in it, though many which mark the infidelity of the whole gang. Lord Sheffield never had a grain of religion, and his intimate connections with Gibbon would alone account for it. Of course he took no pains to instil it into his family, and if Mrs. Clinton and Lady Stanley have any, they are not indebted for it to their father or to his friend. A great number of persons of high rank, extraordinary talents, and great celebrity thus passing in review, and all of them (Burke alone excepted) without the least suspicion of religion attaching to their characters, yield a melancholy impression on the mind of a Christian. Nineteen in twenty of the persons mentioned are gone to their eternal state, and of what account is it at present whether they were celebrated authors, splendid orators, great ministers, or successful generals or admirals? Whatever might be their worldly greatness how little are they to be compared at present to the case of a poor Christian whose employment was sweeping the streets! Without doubt the propriety of such observations depends entirely on Christianity being true; but what a dreadful situation is that man in whose safety is attached solely to the falsehood of that religion. The reflection makes my blood almost run cold, and old and blind as I am, and scarcely exchanging in six weeks a single word with more than one or two persons out of my family, I feel a comfort and consolation, and I will add a measure of happiness, not one atom of which would be found in my bosom if I were not most perfectly convinced of the absolute truth and importance of that blessed religion which forms the sole enjoyment of my life.

June.—Lord Winchilsea called here and chatted with me upon cottagers’ land for cows, which he is well persuaded, and most justly, is the only remedy for the evil of poor rates.

1817.—The death of the Princess Charlotte this year created the greatest sensation ever known.

1818.—On coming to London in February, five-and-twenty claims for the premium on the [summary of] the state of the poor, the causes of their distress, and the means of remedying it, were received, and it afforded me continued employment for many weeks in reading and giving a character of them. Much the greater part of the authors who drew up these memoirs were of the same opinion as to the cause of the national distress, attributing it to the peace having thrown a vast number of men out of employment who were in the Army or Navy, or working in the manufactures immediately supported by military demands; and this evil concurring with a general stagnation from the failure of a multitude of country banks, had materially affected the industry of the whole kingdom. The remedies proposed were various, and many of them visionary; the most rational advised the issuing of Exchequer Bills in payment of various sorts of public works, such as canals, roads, harbours, fisheries, and many other employments. Such suggestions had been proposed to Government, but unfortunately the ministers in England have very rarely indeed listened to any such propositions. My friend Mr. Attwood, of Birmingham, in a work publicly addressed to me, wrote upon the subject with great ability, and most justly remarked upon dismissing at once both the Army and the Navy, and turning such numbers loose upon the public when it was perfectly well known that they could not find employment was highly mischievous. This ought to have been done slowly and gradually, as the expense would have been an evil far less deplorable than that which was insured by a contrary conduct. It was the beginning of 1818 before the kingdom was decidedly found to be in a reviving state, and in the mean time the infinite number of offences against the peace and property of the people arose to an alarming height in every part of the kingdom. The first week in January I received half a year’s rents, and it was a great comfort to me to find that the tenants continued their regular payments without running the least in arrears, and this at a time when complaints on the non-payment of rents were very general over the greater part of the kingdom. I attributed this effect, which was very general around Bury and through all Suffolk, to the stability and flourishing state of our country banks, whose paper passed readily current, and formed a perfect contrast to the deficiencies and distress so generally felt in various other countries; nor can anything be more lamentable than for gentlemen of small estates finding their tenants running in arrears of rent.

This was much experienced in the counties of Cambridge, Huntingdon, and part of Bedford. Sir George Leeds informed me that he had farms in the former counties abandoned and lying absolutely waste.

Here ends the diary. Arthur Young died in Sackville Street on April 20, 1820, and was buried at Bradfield. The following letter from Mary Young to her brother in Russia gives some details about his last years. The letter (undated) apparently belongs to 1818: ‘My father talks of going to Bradfield in June with Miss Francis and Mr. St. Croix. He is fearful lest Miss Francis (who is a granddaughter of Dr. Burney, and a daughter of Mrs. Broom by her first husband) will join the Wilberforces at Brighton, and leave him. When at Bradfield she sleeps over the servants’ hall, with a packthread tied round her wrist, and placed through the keyhole, which he pulls at four or five times, till he awakens her, when she gets up and accompanies him in a two hours’ walk on the turnpike road to some cottage or other, and they take milk at some farmhouse; and she distributes tracts (religious ones), and questions the people about their principles, and reads to them and catechises them. They return at half-past six, as that is the hour Mr. St. Croix gets up (his secretary), who finds it quite enough to read and write two hours and a half before breakfast. After breakfast they all three adjourn to the library till one, when Mr. St. Croix takes his walk for an hour; she and my father read, or write, or walk till three. Before she went to Bradfield, Mr. St. Croix had but one hour. She has a table and great chair filled with books in all languages, as she reads in every language every day to keep them up—Greek, Latin, Italian, Hebrew, Arabic, German, Spanish, French, Dutch, &c. &c. &c.

‘My father puts children to school at Cuckfield, Stanningfield, and Bradfield. Every morning, summer or winter, she inspects and teaches at these schools. Every Sunday they all meet in the hall and read, and are catechised; and every Sunday night a hundred meet, when St. Croix reads a sermon and a chapter, and my father explains for an hour, after which a prayer dismisses them! Last summer they went to church at Acton or Ampton every Sunday, each church ten miles out and ten home, besides teaching the schools and the meeting at night in the hall.

‘He has taken out a licence for the hall, as there is an assembly of people which would have been otherwise liable to an information.

‘Adieu, my dear Arthur. Are we ever to meet any more?

‘Yours affectionately, ‘M. Y.’

The following is added by Mr. St. Croix:—

‘Mr. Young’s benevolent exertions for the poor in his own and the adjoining parishes, and constant plan for welfare and relief of their necessities, was very beautiful, and I believe and fear very uncommon. To women this attention is natural.

‘H. More truly says, “Charity is the employment of a female; the care of the poor is her profession;” but to see this extend to the other sex, to witness the same solicitude for the distresses of the ignorant, unextinguished by business or by ingratitude, in a man of such activity of genius as Mr. Y., was indeed an impressive sight. At one time he established spinning matches; a cap was the prize, and several young girls contended for it, the best spinner being victorious. This occasioned industry and emulation, certainly; but even this was not without its attendant evil, and Mr. Y. finally abandoned it, from the dread of encouraging vanity, and appropriated the money to winter feasts.

‘In this cold, unproductive season, there were amongst the poor constant endeavours and constant failure at repletion. Every Sunday after church a set of poor people, chiefly children, were invited, and a plentiful dinner provided for them, Mr. Y. waiting on them and carving himself.

‘But this he was at last obliged to relinquish. The Sunday cooking was certainly a grand objection; and some neighbouring ladies who had (charity) schools remonstrated at the absence of the children, who were crazy if they were not allowed to forsake everything in order to attend Mr. Y.’s dinners. But another scheme, more extensive and more useful, succeeded this—namely, the introduction of straw-plaiting among the young cottagers.’

INDEX

Abercorn, Marquis of, 347 Aldworth, Richard, 72 Allen, Alderman (father-in-law of Arthur Young), 32 — —(son of the above), 60 — Mrs., 36, 38 Althorp, Lord, 313 Amorette, Abate, 176 Anson, Mr., 394 Arblay, Madame d’, 23 note 12, 32 note 29, 61 note 52, 100 note 74, 135 note 99, 196, 214, 216 Arbuthnot, Mr. (son of Viscount Arbuthnot), 66, 92, 97, 98, 124 Armstead, Mrs., 260 Ashby, Rev. George, 104 and note 79, 114, 129 Aspin, Miss, 15 Attwood, Mr., 471 Auckland, Lord, 314 Augusta of Saxe Gotha (Princess of Wales), 16

B., Countess of, 29 Baker, Whyman, 88, 111 Bakewell, Robert, 135 and note 101 Balgrave, Rev. —, 355 Banks, Sir Joseph, 150, 151, 163, 165, 167, 174, 201, 224, 321, 339, 350 Baroude, A. F., 464 note Barrington, Dr. (Bishop of Durham), 254, 348, 352, 358, 376 Barry, James (painter), 115-118 Bayley, Butterworth, 59 Bedford, fifth Duke of, 172, 206, 244, 245, 246, 254, 256, 273, 276, 301, 313, 318, 330, 351, 360, 363, 372, 374, 375 Bedford, sixth Duke of, 372, 373 note, 374, 383, 384, 396, 444 Bentham, Jeremy, 247, 249, 308, 341 Bentinck, Lady Mary, 327 — Lord Charles, 328 Berchtold, Count Leopold, 167 and note, 168-170, 180 Bernard, Mr., 376 Berry, Edward, 323 — Miss Jane. See Young, Mrs. Arthur, daughter-in-law of Arthur Young Bolton, M.P., Cornelius, 75, 80 Boswell, 191 Boulainvilliers, Comte de, 32 and note 30 Boyd, Hugh, 92-97 Bristol (Bishop of Derry), Earl of, 101, 102, 103-105, 113, 128-131, 228 — Countess of, 225, 227, 243 Brudenell, Mr., 18 Brunswick, Duke of, 355, 356 Bryant, Jacob, 245 and note, 291 Buccleugh, Duke of, 245, 256, 261 Bukaty, M., 159, 180 and note Bulkeley, Lady Frances, 52 Bunbury, Sir C., 412 Burdett, Sir Francis, 345, 449, 451 Burgoyne, Montague, 418, 419 Burke, Edmund, 67, 93, 174, 232, 256-261, 302, 345, 428 — W., 257, 428 Burney, Dr. Charles, 23 and note 12, 51, 65, 92, 100, 101, 115, 144, 181, 194, 196, 197, 214, 232, 250, 299, 326 — Fanny. See Arblay, Madame d’ Burney, Hester, 51, 100 note 74 —Sarah, 215 and note Burrell, Sir Peter, 164 Burton, Colonel (afterwards Lord Cunningham), 67, 68 Bute, Lord, 192, 355, 412

Cadell (the publisher), 395 Cadogan, Lady, 313 Caldwell, Sir James, 69, 70, 75 Camden, Lord, 304 Canham, the elder, Bartholomew, 2 Canning, Mr., 327, 362 note Carew, Pole, 202 Carnot, M., 307 and note Carrington, Lord, 314, 315, 319, 333 note, 351, 356, 360, 361, 363, 370, 379, 393, 407, 413 Cartier, M., 157 Cartwright, Dr., 367, 373, 374, 396 Castiglioni, Count di, 176 Castries, Marshal de, 240 Catherine, Empress, 124 Charlemont, Earl of, 75 Chester, Bishop of, 97, 98 Chesterfield, Lord, 33, 34, 49 Chevalier, Rev. M., 14 Cibber, Mrs., 15 Clermont, Lord, 211 Clive, Lord, 49 Cobbett, William, 442 Cocks, Sir Charles (afterwards Lord Somers), 52 Coke, J. W., 212, 384, 385, 386, 400, 432, 444 Cole, Charles, 243, 245, 255, 290, 297, 304, 368 Colhoun, Mr., 363 Collier, Joseph and Mary, 27 and note 15 Cornwallis, Archbishop, 139 — Marquis of, 205 Cotton, Lady, 338 Coulter, Rev. Mr. (Master of Lavenham School), 7, 8, 23 Courtenay, Sir W., 192 Cousmaker, John, 103 — John de, 3, 126 — Miss, 102, 103 — — Anne Lucretia de. See Young, Mrs. (mother of Arthur Young) Coventry, Lady, 20 Cowper’s ‘Letters,’ quoted, 410 Coxe, Archdeacon, 236 Crewe, Mrs., 214, 233, 259, 260, 327 — Mr., 326 Crosse, Lady, 17 Cullum, Sir John, 104 and note 78, 114, 134 Cumberland, Duke of, 4, 6, 16 note 10

Danby, Mr., 50, 55, 76 Darnley, Earl of, 245 Dartmouth, Lord, 236 Day, Thomas (author of ‘Sandford and Merton’), 166 and note Derry, Bishop of. See Bristol, Earl of Doddington, George Bubb, 12, 161 Dolmein (geologist), 368 and note 209 Douglas, Bishop, 236, 304 Dryden (quoted), 35 Ducket, Mr., 172 Dundas, Lady Jane, 327 — Mr., 261, 327 Dundonald, Lord, 160 Dunstanville, Lord de, 245 Durham, Bishop of. See Barrington, Dr.

Edward Augustus, Prince. See York, Duke of Egremont, Lord, 111, 179, 244, 245, 275, 299, 313, 315, 317, 324, 352, 358, 360, 363, 434 Elizabeth, Princess (daughter of George II.), 16 Ellerton, Mr., 50 Erne, Lady, 267 Estissac, Duchess d’, 175 Euston, Lord, 365

Fawcett, Sir William, 329 Fielding, Sir John, 69 Fife, Lord, 112 Folkes, Sir Martin, 2, 11 Folkestone, Lord, 59 note 49 Forbes, Mrs., 252, 253 Fordyce, Lady Margaret, 338 — Sir William, 147 Forster, Lord Chief Baron, 75 Foster, Lady Elizabeth, 468, 469 Fox, Charles James, 202, 227, 233, 234, 259, 424, 425 — Henry (afterwards Lord Holland), 16, 134, 164 Francis, Miss, 457 and note 247, 460, 461, 472 Freeman, Miss, 20 Frere, J. H., 362 note Fry, Mr., 391, 395, 398, 407

Gage, Sir Thomas, 191 Garrick, 10, 15, 22, 31, 32 — Mrs., 245 George II., 16 — III., 112, 132, 138, 160, 178, 190, 224, 237, 268, 321, 322 George, Prince (afterwards George III.), 16 — — (afterwards George IV.), 192 Gibbon, Edward, 258, 259, 468 Gifford, W., 362 note Gloucester, Duke of, 371 Gordon, Duchess of, 334 Gough, Captain, 5 Grafton, Duchess of, 139, 140 — Duke of, 139, 140, 141, 193, 201, 211, 239, 254, 305, 325, 361, 362, 372, 382, 426, 438, 454 note Granby, Marquis of, 355 Gray, Thomas (the poet), quoted, 89, 90 Green, Valentine, 59 Grenville, Lord, 360, 435 Grey, Sir Charles (afterwards first Earl Grey), 327 — — — (afterwards second Earl Grey), 233, 234, 235, 424 Grigby, Joshua, 390 Guerchy, Comtesse de, 186, 187 Gurney, Rev. Mr., 462

Halifax, Dr., 372, 376 Hanger, Colonel George (afterwards Lord Coleraine), 192 and note 141 Harcourt, Countess of, 50 note 39, 358 — Earl of, 67, 75 Hardwicke, Lord, 338 Hardy, Professor, 238 Harte, Rev. Walter, 32 and note 31, 33, 35-43, 49 Harvey, Fenton, 20 Hastings, Warren, 164 Hawke, Lord, 241 Hawkesbury, Lady, 267 Hawksworth, Dr., 343 Héritier, C. de l’, 367 and note Hertford, Marquis of, 427 Hervey, General, 105, 106 — Lady Mary, 267 and note Hesketh, Lady, 233 Hill, Rev. Rowland, 359 Hoar, Captain, 350, 352 Holdernesse, Lord, 56 Holroyd, John Baker (afterwards Lord Sheffield, q.v.), 58 Hoole, Mrs., 189, 198, 246, 250, 252 — John, 189 — Rev. Samuel, 189, 246, 251, 252, 361, 362 Horsley, Bishop, 359 and note 204 Howard, Sir Charles, 28 — John, 59, 60, 248 Howlett, Rev. —, 97, 285 Hunter, Dr. Alexander, 61 and note 53 Hutchinson, Rev. Mr., 336 Huthhausen, Baron, 173

Ingoldsby, Dr., 19 — General, 4, 5, 6, 7 — Mrs., 6, 10

Jarré, General, 123 Jarvis, Lord, 267 Jefferys, Mr. and Mrs., 73 Jenkinson, Mr., 256 Jenyns, Soame, 244, 245 Jermyn, Sir Thomas, 2 Jobson, Rev. Mr., 337 John of Austria, Archduke, 463, 464 Johnson, Dr., 26, 27, 32 note 31, 285 note 177, 353, 421, 422 Joy, Mrs., 19

Kalaskowski, Count, 144 Kames, Lord, 84 and note 63 Keene, Mr. and Mrs., 3 Kennon, Mrs. Sidney, 10, 11, 12, 13 Kenrick, Dr., 27 and note 14 Keppel, Lord, 108 Kingsborough, Lord, 76, 77-80 Kinsman, Mr. (master of Bury St. Edmunds School), 7 Knight, Cornelia, 368 and note 208

Lafayette, 191 Lamb, Mr. (King’s Messenger), 45 Lambert, Captain, 29 Langford, Dr., 142 Latrobe, B. H., 172 Lauderdale, Lord, 314, 397 Law, Thomas, 229 Lawrence, Dr., 345 Lazowski, M. de, 119 and note 91, 120-124, 154, 175 Leeds, Duke of, 51 — Sir George, 472 Leigh, Mr. (Clerk of the House of Commons), 261, 262 Liancourt, Duke of, 119 and note 90, 120-123, 154, 259, 382 Liverpool, Lord, 339 Llandaff, Bishop of. See Watson, Richard Lofft, Capel, 101 and note 75, 102, 276, 291, 317, 318 Longford, Lord, 71 Loughborough, Lord, 86, 98, 207, 208, 219 Louisa, Princess (daughter of George II.), 16 Luther, Mr., 179

Macartney, Lord, 196 Macaulay, General, 460, 462 Macklin, Rev. Mr., 154, 267, 274 Macpherson, Sir John, 224, 225, 239 Macro, Mr., 170 Magellan, Mr., 150 Manchester, Duke of, 367, 395 March, Lord, 140, 141 Marlborough, Duke of, 26 Marshall, W., 427 and note 234, 429 Martin, Professor, 147 Massalski, Prince (Bishop of Wilna), 52 Mauduit, Israel, 255 and note Medlicott, Mr., 71 Milbank, Lady, 350 Mildmay, Sir A. St. John, 348 Milner, Dean, 371 and note, 372 — Professor, 150 Miripoix, M. de (French Ambassador), 17 Moira, Lord, 243, 304 Moncrief, Sir Henry, 238 Montagu, Mrs., 233, 243, 244, 245, 312, 349, 358, 386 Montrose, Duke of, 245, 347 Mordaunt, Lady Mary, 52 More, Hannah, 233, 245, 246, 473 Mouron, M., 124 Murray, General, 171

Nepean, Mr., 341, 342 Neve, Miss, 467 Neville, Mr., 134 Newcastle, Duke of, 16 North, Lord, 60, 107, 201 — Rev. Mr., 344 Northey, Mr., 363

Oakes, Orbell Ray, 154, 266, 382, 388, 406 — Mrs. Orbell Ray, 266 and note, 270, 320, 321, 354, 359, 370 note 211, 382, 385, 388, 392, 438, 443, 444, 445, 446, 453 O’Connor, A., 317 and note Oliver, Right Hon. Silver, 74 Onslow, Dr., 191 — General, 4, 15, 16, 191 — Lady, 20 — Mr. Speaker, 4, 20, 28 Orde, Mrs., 245 Orford, Earl of, 60, 206, 207, 233 Orwell, Lord, 16 note 9 Ossory, Lord, 331, 332, 395 Otto, L. W., Count of Morlay, 377 and note 215 Overton, J., 376 and note

Pakenham, Mr., 460, 461 Paley, Dr., 378 Parkyn, Mr., 367 Partridge, Rev. S., 280 Patulle, M., 36, 40, 42 Pearson, Dr., 376 Pelham, Lord, 381 Peterborough, Bishop of, 147 Peterson, Lady, 20 Petty, Lord Henry, 370 Phillips, Sir John, 17 Pigot, Admiral, 193 Pitt, William, 134, 137, 161, 166, 201, 203, 219, 221, 254, 255, 306, 314, 315, 327, 345, 346, 363, 371, 424, 427 Plampin, Betsy. See Oakes, Mrs. — Captain John, 154, 423 Polignac, Prince and Princess de, 162 and note Pope, Alexander (quoted), 136 note 102 Popple, Mr. (Governor of Bermuda), 13 Porteus, Bishop, 178, 179 Portland, Duke of, 51, 326 Potemkin, Prince, 102, 125 Poulett, Mr., 246 Preston, Lord, 367, 368 Priestley, Dr., 99, 150-153, 439

Queensberry, Duke of, 192

Radnor, Lord, 161 Richardson, Samuel, 192 Richmond, Legh, 460 Roberts, Dr., Provost of Eton, 142 — Lewis, 91 and note 67 Robertson, Messrs. (of Lynn), 22, 23 Rochefoucault, Counts de la, 119-121, 154 Rochester, Bishop of, 4, 28 Rockingham, Marquis of, 42, 50 Roper, Dr., 52 Rose, George (President of the Board of Trade), 132 and note 97, 137, 221, 241, 242 Ross, Bishop, 160 Rosslyn, Lord, 360 Rossmore, Lord, 347 Rostopchin, Count, 387, 401 Ruggles, Th., 194 and note 143 Rumford, Count, 323 Ryder, Lady Susan, 327, 328 — Mr., 327, 386

St. Vincent, Earl of, 418, 419 Sambosky, Rev. —, 124, 125 Saunderson, Dr. Nicholas, 14 note 8 Scott, Rev. Thomas, 349, 359, 391, 392 Seabright, Sir John, 463 Sheffield, Lord, 132, 220, 245, 258, 344 and note 199, 393, 395, 402, 407, 468, 469 Shelburne, Earl of (afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne), 67, 69, 102 Shelley, Mr., 20 Sheridan, R. B., 164 and note, 234 Shipley, Mr., 59 note 49 Sidmouth, Lord, 419, 434, 460 Simeon, Rev. Charles, 369, 395, 397, 398, 399, 400 Sinclair, Sir J., 159 and note 119, 160, 219, 220, 224, 241, 242, 243, 245, 247, 256, 299, 314, 315, 316, 413, 414, 437, 443, 464 Smirenove, Mr., 387, 400 Smith, Sydney (quoted), 445 note 239 Somers, Lord, 359 Somerville, Lord, 245, 315, 316, 318, 347, 361, 363, 384, 385, 404 Souga, Anthony (Austrian Consul), 169 Spencer, Lord, 313, 367 Stafford, Lord, 161 Stanhope, Lady, 313 — Philip, 33 Stanislas, King, 119 Stonehewer, Mr., 193, 346 Sturton, Sir Thomas, 344 Sutton, Dr. Robert, 8 and note 4 Symonds, Professor John, 103, 114 and note 84, 120-124, 129, 140, 144, 146, 154, 160, 184, 192, 201, 210, 236, 239, 253, 283, 295, 304, 344, 355, 362, 368, 400, 412, 419-421

Thornhill, Major, 78, 79 Thurlow, Lord, 161 Tillet, Mr. de, 170 Tomlinson, Mr., 22 — Mrs. (sister of Arthur Young), 20, 22, 126 Tour du Pin, Count de la, 257 Townsend, Rev. J., 407 and note 227 Townshend, Lord, 136 Trant, Mr. and Mrs., 73 Tuam, Archbishop of, 75 Turner, Miss, 15 Turton, Dr., 264, 273, 274

Valpy, Dr. Richard, 106 and note 81, 133, 297 Vancouver, 426 and note 232 Vansittart, Nicholas, (afterwards Lord Bexley), 426 and note 233, 435, 459 Vary, Mr., 140, 141, 193 Vassy, Governor, 4 Voltaire (quoted), 39

Wakefield, Edward, 75 and note Washington, General, 189, 191, 360 Watson, Richard (afterwards Bishop of Llandaff), 97, 123, 124, 147, 150, 177-180, 236, 237, 254, 375 Way, Miss, 467 Wedderburn, Alexander (afterwards Earl of Rosslyn), 97 and note 70 — Colonel, 16 note 9 Wellesley, Marquis of, 451 Wentworth, Lord, 245 Whitbread, Samuel, 52, 59, 161 Wight, Alexander, 84 and note Wilberforce, William, 201, 287 and note 180, 288, 289, 297, 307, 325 and note, 326, 345, 348, 359, 371, 375, 407, 454 note, 457, 459 Wilkes, John, 10 Willes, Mr. Justice, 52 Willoughby, Sir C., 351, 413 Winchester, Earl of, 245 Winchilsea, Earl of, 244, 315, 351, 363, 388, 466, 470 Windham, William, 161 Wollaston, Dr., 277 Wurtemburg, Queen of, 425 Wyndham, M.P., Mr., 259

Yeldham, John, 47 York, Duke of, 16, 266, 327 York, Mrs., 245 Young, Rev. Dr. (father of Arthur Young, writer of the Autobiography), 2-6, 8, 9, 10, 13, 14, 24 — Mrs. (mother of Arthur Young), 3, 22, 24, 28, 56, 57, 61, 77, 81, 126 — Arthur (son of Arthur Young), 51, 139, 143, 299, 317, 318, 323, 352, 363, 382, 402, 403, 406, 408, 415, 418, 428, 429, 432, 448, 456, 457, 464 — — (last descendant of Arthur Young), 127 note 94 — Mrs. Arthur (wife of Arthur Young), 32 and note 29, 46, 81, 142, 146, 319, 339, 389, 413, 424, 429, 438, 457, 460 — — — (daughter-in-law of Arthur Young), 323, 397, 398, 399, 404, 409, 415, 429, 446, 448, 457 — Bartholomew (grandfather of Arthur Young), 2 — Elizabeth (‘Bessy’) (second daughter of Arthur Young), 51, 146, 181, 189. See also Hoole, Mrs. — Elizabeth Mary (‘Elisa Maria’) (sister of Arthur Young), 1, 15, 19, 20. See also Tomlinson, Mrs. — Rev. Dr. John (brother of Arthur Young), 2, 9, 57, 107, 127, 132, 138-143 — Martha Ann (‘Bobbin’) (youngest daughter of Arthur Young), 110 and note 83, 158, 159 note 118, 184, 185, 263-284, 286, 287, 290, 294, 295, 298, 323, 382, 423 — Mary (eldest daughter of Arthur Young), 43, 184, 382, 425, 440, 454 note 244, 457, 472

PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON

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Transcriber’s Note

In the Table of Contents, the page for Chapter I was missing and has been supplied. The page given for Chapter III was ‘4’ and has been replaced by the correct page 44.

The Index has frequent references to footnotes, mentioning the page and number on those pages. Since all footnotes have been renumbered sequentially, for uniqueness, across the text, the Index references have been modified to reflect the new numbers.

On p. 223, Young includes a memorandum from August 21, opening with a quotation mark which is never closed. Judging from the tone of the memorandum, it is likely that it closes at the end of a long paragraph on p. 224 (see below).

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.

32.23 [I ]shall make the tea Added.

58.13 were the numbers ascertained.[’] Removed.

187.30 quoted particulars o yearly expenses Restored.

211.11 ‘Last night, intead of reading Inserted.

213.13 on the p[oli/la]ce of corn and capital Probable. employed

224.22 secretaryship of the Board.[’] Added.

284.26 dwells upon the present.[’] Added.

306 the study of polite letters[.] Added.

315.27 the same answer was eturned Restored.

381.16 I have taken places[.] Added.

393.31 ‘Der Augenblick ist Ewigkeit.[’] Added.

459.12 general anxiety and appehension Inserted.

Transcription of Manuscript Letter after p. 188

The following is a transcription of a letter from Arthur Young to his wife Mary. There are several place names that resist transcription in indicated with bracketed dashes.

No 82

Besançon July 27. 89

Dear Mary

I expected a L^r here, but was disappointed How comes y^t: I hope not to be so at Dijon.

I think I wrote you fr^o Strasbourg: the day after at y^t place 20,000 mob pillaged the Hotel d. Ville a house 3 times as big as the Angel & almost tore it in pieces: It was well furnished, but all turn’d out of windows in sight of 6 Regim.^{ts} who could not or w’d not do anything to save it. From y^t time to this moment all has been riot in every place I have been at. I spent a day at Schelestad with the Ct. de la Rochefoucauld who was very civil & obliging but on y^e qui vive for populace who are every where in motion At one place I was near being knocked on the head for want of a Tiers etat Cockade; and at another saved by self being an english^n. by explaining how y^e Tiers etat p^d no taxes but the Seigneurs all in England; proposing to them to do the same in France, they relished this, and believed y^t I was not a Seigneur, but an honest fellow.

In this country worse & worse—they are burning and plundering chateaus, & hunt down the Seigneurs like wild beasts—some have been shot, others hanged, and hundreds driven out of the Country & ruined. You see by y^e papers I suppose that the King is at Versailles bereft of Guards power, family & all but claps and huzzas: the Queen shut up at St Cyr; the Count d’Artois gone to Spain it is said but first to [————]; and all the Queen’s friends fled the Kingdom to escape halters. Never was such a revolution known or heard off. The towns are every where arming the tiers etat, so it will very soon be too late for the nobility to stir in their defence.

Pray tell Hyde to take Care that the acre in Grav P.field y^t is to be inclosed be well dunged & sowed with cabbage seed I ordered fr^o [——] thro Bess—with^t fail by the 20^{th}. august in fine order. Write me how the Cabbages are, fr^o a little bed in [——] past Round garden; How does Cooper go on? I desire that Arthur may lose no time at home, but take M^r Symonds directions when to go to C. I have not had a L^r from him of 11 months; I suppose because I expressly desired one once a fortnight: But nothing surprizes me that come fr^o him; Eton has I hope has done so much for his head that it leaves nothing for his heart—God send it may prove so; & y^t I have not impoverished myself for nothing.

Give my dear Bobbin a Kiss for me & tell her I shall write her a L^r next.

Adieu Y^r affect^t AY

Rem^r me to y^r Mother

Say nothing to Arth. ab^t writing; I had much rather have no L^r than such as those hints bring: observe this:

Miss Young Bradfield Hall Bury Suffolk Angleterre