Blomfield, grandfather of the Bishop of London, kept a school here, and Crabbe Robinson was one of his pupils. The preacher at that time at the Independent chapel was Mr. Waldegrave. Crabbe Robinson describes him as “an ignorant, noisy, ranting preacher; he bawled loud, thumped the cushion, and sometimes cried; he was, however, a kind man, and of course he was a favourite of mine.” As an illustration of the state of religion among the Independents a hundred years ago, it is curious to notice Robinson’s mother’s experience, which he quotes. “There was no allusion to the Trinity,” he writes, “in it, or any other disputed doctrine. Indeed, the word belief scarcely occurs. The one sentiment which runs throughout is a consciousness of personal unworthiness, with which are combined a desire to be united to the Church, and a reliance on the merits of Christ.” One of the great men who lived later on at Bury was Capel Lofft, a gentleman of good family, an author also on an infinity of subjects. Capel Lofft is chiefly remembered now as the earliest patron of the poet Blomfield. He was acting as Magistrate at Bury, and was a leader among the Liberals of the place. Another distinguished East Anglian, who lived near Bury at that time was the celebrated agricultural writer, Arthur Young. It was to Bury Madame de Genlis fled for safety on the outbreak of the French Revolution. The celebrated Pamela escaped with her. Another French refugee who found temporary shelter at Bury was the Duke de Liancourt. It was he who brought the news of the capture of the Bastille to the unfortunate Louis, who exclaimed, “Why, that is a revolt.” “Sire,” answered Liancourt, “it is not a revolt—it is a revolution.” A Miss Bude, of Bury, who afterwards became the wife of Clarkson, the philanthropist, Mr. Robinson mentions as “the most eloquent woman I have ever known, with the exception of Madame de Staël.” It was at Bury that Robinson, who had been called to the bar, made his _debut_. At his first dinner with the barristers at the Angel Inn, among the company was Hart, one of the most remarkable men of the circuit. He was originally a preacher among the Calvinistic Methodists. It was said to him once, “Mr. Hart, when I hear you in the pulpit I wish you were never out of it; when I see you out of it, I wish you were never in it.” Bury Gaol had acquired some celebrity for the superior way in which its criminal population were looked after. Bury St. Edmunds may claim to have given shelter to the immortal Daniel Defoe. He had been in the pillory before the Royal Exchange, in London, near the Conduit at Cheapside, and the third day at Temple Bar. He was the hero of the people, who garlanded him with flowers, repeating as they did so, with special gusto, the lines:— Tell them the men that placed him here Are scandals to the times, Are at a loss to find his guilt, And can’t commit his crimes.