March 26.—I am very sure that I do not give to poor Christians so much as I ought to do, but I am in doubt whether I do not give more than I ought to do to others. Here is a German, Behrens, once a merchant in good circumstances, whom Sir John received papers from and sent to me. He translated a paper for the Board, and made known such poverty that I promised him a pair of boots; but writing to him on the translation, I took occasion to enquire what religion he was of; he was educated a Lutheran, but I see plainly he has none. He shall have the boots, but I shall give him nothing else. I can do nothing for Christians if I give to all others that apply.

April 6.—At Bradfield. There is a poor fellow in the gaol condemned to die next Wednesday for forging or uttering bank notes. I heard some bad accounts of him, and as I came from Bury early in the morning, yesterday called to see him. I found that he had been attended by the minister, Mr. Hastead, and also by a Methodist, recommended by a brother of his. I had a good deal of conversation with him, and prayed with him. He was very ignorant, and had no feeling of religion till he was condemned, but has since been instructed and spoke properly enough, lamenting his want of faith at times, and at others being full of faith. I gave him the best instruction I could, and urged little more than (which is his only possible hope) faith in the Lord Jesus. He prayed aloud for some minutes, and more to the purpose than I should have expected. He thanked me much for coming, and as he begged me to come again I promised, and accordingly this morning went on purpose. It comforted him much. I prayed earnestly and fervently for him, and his amens and ejaculations seemed to come quite from his heart. I left him tranquil, and, blessed be a merciful God, I think he may without presumption hope strongly for pardon at the throne of mercy.

I am planting lands, and forming an experiment on the application of vegetable substances as manure.

29th.—London. At eight o’clock at night I received the following note from Sir John Sinclair. I hurried away to the place named in the cover, Great Shire Lane, where I found Sir John; and Dr. Garthshore on the same errand as myself.

We signed a bail bond.

Sir John’s regiment has been disbanded nine or ten years, and consequently this rascally saddler has been at least so long kept out of his money. What can these people think of themselves! To live quietly while thus depriving tradesmen of their right for such a number of years!

May 16.—This is the first fine day that has occurred since I left town; the lilacs are coming fast into blossom, and the fresh verdure of the grass and trees is highly pleasing.

August 29.—As the time approaches to go this Oxford journey, I dislike it more and more, and wish I had firmly rejected it. I am not in a situation at all comfortable here, and have only one maid—no man or boy—and only the carpenter to put my horse in the whisky; but with a little exertion all this could be arranged. Mrs. Y. going to the sea for seven weeks, and therefore seven weeks’ peace here if I stayed. I am in a regular habitual application to my ‘Elements,’ and have made a good progress in them, so that if I kept here I should have gone through many meetings of the Board; and then if it pleased the Lord to take me, they would at least be in a state to be serviceable to mankind, and the great collection I have made in divinity would gradually be brought into order.

All around here is a region dead in iniquity and sins, as far as ladies and gentlemen are concerned. Amongst the Sectaries there is Christianity, and nowhere else, which is a horrible thing to think of. The clergy are, if possible, more dead than any others; many of them very profligate, many thoroughly worldly minded, but some of very respectable moral characters, but without a spark of vital religion.

I associate only with Mrs. O. Oakes. Having written till I am tired, I go once or twice a week to relax with the mild green (sic) of her soul, because I can be free and do as I like, and I try hard to make her a Christian, but hitherto in vain. If evil ideas at any time plague me, then I keep away, and, thanks to God, I have of late had an unusual command over my imagination, which for years plagued me terribly. Prayer is my refuge.

November 23.—The 17th, 18th, and 19th at Euston, and I had much conversation with the duke, in which I earnestly endeavoured to impress on his mind the fact, that by his tenets he placed himself entirely under the covenant of works, and that he must be tried for them, and that I would not be in such a situation for ten thousand worlds. He was mild and more patient than I expected.

He lent me, and I read it there, Priestley’s Life, by himself. He asked me what I thought of it? My reply was that through the whole it was the recital of a man perfectly well satisfied with himself, not the confessions of a sinner lamenting what has been wrong in him. He seems to have had no feeling of the sort; as if, when tried by the test of his own merit, it would be a great injustice in God not to be satisfied with him, and that I had no conception of any man having it in his power to review or detail his life with any religious aspect without much self-condemnation, and beseeching God to try him in any way rather than by an appeal to his life or his own merit, but (if he be really a Christian) by the merits only of the blood of his Redeemer. He said it was my view of things, and not that of the doctor, whom he believed was undoubtedly a very good man. The conversation continued, but we were as far as the poles asunder. The duke has drawn up memoirs of his life, and he and Lady Augusta read to me that part which concerned his own administration, which is very satisfactory, as it consists much of original letters. He appears to much more advantage in it than I conceived he would have done, and it was certainly a wise step to leave such a memorial in justification of himself. Lord Templeton there one day. They seem to me to grow more and more economical, and to descend to minute attentions which are below their rank and fortune.

I do not feel comfortable, though he always receives me well, and desires me to come again. It is long since I was there before, and will be long before I go again; such visits, however, have very little of dissipation in them, and so much the better.

The less we like them the safer they are.

[Note, probably by Mary, Arthur Young’s only surviving daughter]: ‘1807. It was upon this journey [into Oxfordshire] that Mr. Y. first perceived the approach of that dimness of sight which afterwards terminated in its total eclipse. His first suspicion arose from looking at the planet Jupiter, and perceiving what appeared to him to be two very small stars near him, at which he was much surprised, as he knew that the satellites were invisible to the naked eye, and nobody saw these stars but himself. This multiplication of bright objects increased the following year, till at last one lamp appeared to him to be five. Objects became by degrees more and more confused, and at last totally disappeared.’

(Total blindness appears to have resulted from the failure of an operation for cataract, as will be seen later on.)