ives it a peculiar appearance. It is much surrounded with heaths or
thin poor muirs covered with heather, very barren, yet capable of being
converted into rich arable and pasturage. I would [not] desire a better
estate than to have 2000 acres which would be worth 40 shillings an
acre.

_October_ 24.--My womankind are gone out with Walter and Captain Hall. I
wish they would be moderate in their demands on people's complaisance.
They little know how inconvenient are such seizures. A sailor is in
particular a bad refuser, and before he can turn three times round, he
is bound with a triple knot to all kinds of [engagements]. The wind is
west, that is to say contrary, so our sailing on the day after to-morrow
is highly doubtful.

_October_ 25.--A gloomy October day, the wind inflexibly constant in the
west, which is fatal. Sir James Graham proposes to wait upon us after
breakfast. A trouble occurs about my taking an oath before a
master-extraordinary in Chancery; but such cannot easily be found, as
they reside in chambers in town, and rusticate after business, so they
are difficult to catch as an eel. At ten my children set off to the
dockyard, which is a most prodigious effort of machinery, and they are
promised the sight of an anchor in the act of being forged, a most
cyclopean sight. Walter is to call upon the solicitor and appoint him to
be with [me] by twelve.

About the reign of Henry VIII. the French took the pile, as it was
called, of----,[479] but were beat off. About the end of the American
war, an individual named John Aitken, or John the Painter, undertook to
set the dockyard on fire, and in some degree accomplished his purpose.
He had no accomplice, and to support himself committed solitary
robberies. Being discovered, he long hung in chains near the outward
fortifications. Last night a deputation of the Literary and
Philosophical Society of [Portsmouth] came to present me with the
honorary freedom of their body, which I accepted with becoming
gratitude. There is little credit in gathering the name of a disabled
invalid. Here I am, going a long and curious tour without ability to
walk a quarter of a mile; quere, what hope of recovery? I think and
think in vain, when attempting to trace the progress of this disease and
so gradually has my health declined, that I believe it has been acting
upon me for ten years, gradually diminishing my strength. My mental
faculties may perhaps recover; my bodily strength canno