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.