May 22.—I am entirely alone and not without melancholy. Worldly people have a thousand resources, as I had once, but every atom of them leads to mischief, and I am a thousand times better without them. Lord Carrington the other day, speaking to Sir C. Willoughby about his son going to school, said, ‘Oh, send him to a great one, which will give him a manly character fit for the world, make him a man of the world.’ So it is with these people; Jesus Christ tells us to hate the world, and that what is in high estimation amongst men is abomination in the eyes of God; but worldly men declare, and think, and feel, and act, directly hostile to Scripture; they urge one another and impress as respectable everything that God abhors. Words cannot express a character more in contradiction to the Christian than that which is meant by a man of the world.

23rd.—I was awake at 2 A.M. and laid without sleep till 3 A.M. My thoughts were not edifying, so I jumped out of bed, and having prayed to the Father of mercies, I began with business. But the train of thought I had been in came again and interrupted me; it was upon the event of what would befall me as secretary to the Board. I have many reasons for thinking that several of the members do not like me, and should anything happen that gave them any handle, would be glad to get rid of me. This was not the case when I was one of themselves, but they know that I associate with religious people, go to the Lock (a very black mark), and read the Bible, and now and then words drop which I understand. Should Sir J. Sinclair become president or Lord Carrington, they might make it very unpleasant to me. Sir John is as poor as a church mouse, and would like well to have his lodging here. Should my family lessen, it would be quite unbearable, and if the idea was started, I must resist it, the question would probably be lost, and then I should resign; this would fix me in repose at Bradfield, and I should be to the full as happy as at present, but my family would not, and then—all this is very wild. I will have done with it for so much as I am persuaded that everything is in the hands of God; nothing can be greater folly than pretending thus to look forward, it is equally useless and uncomfortable.

June 3.—Since the last entry I have had letters from Jane and Arthur at Berlin, where they seemed to have stayed a week. They had been received with great politeness and attention by the Princess of Holstein, Prince Baratinsky’s mother; had dined with her, and she carried them to her villa; they had dined also with the English and Russian Ambassadors, and been at Charlottenburg with Sir G. Rumbold.

I begin to be a little restless to get into the country.

15th.—Bradfield. I got here the 6th, earlier than ever before or since the institution of the Board, which is a great blessing. I have managed to escape both Woburn and Holkham.

I have missed Jane terribly, but I have endeavoured to turn it to a religious account. Poorly and weakly, but still better than not at all. The weather has been bad, which has caused my taking less exercise than is good for me, but blessed be God, my health is excellent.

I have stuck close to my great work the ‘Elements,’ and have gone through my own Norfolk report and the fourth volume of the Board ‘Communications.’ What an immense labour has it been, and for how many years to collect and arrange materials. I could not have conceived how much it is necessary to do before I can fairly say, Now all is before me and in order, ready to compare and draw conclusions.

I mean it to contain everything good that has ever been printed. Till all that is collected and before me, how can I know what is already done, and what wants to be added?

But the labour, when continued year after year, is what I never dreamt of when I began. I have worked hard at the first division—Soils, and brought it into some form; and it is a specimen of how much attention every division will demand. I have also began the second, on Vegetation. I fear making the work too voluminous, and that by-and-by I must curtail greatly. Success is pleasant, and I should fear that if it exceeded two large quartos.

Since I have been here I have read a little work of Flavel’s,[[229]] ‘A Saint indeed,’ which is truly admirable; some [passages] in Marshall[[230]] on ‘Sanctification,’ and very many of Cowper’s letters, all the religious ones.