Two months later he wrote—­“I have bought a book about drilling beans, and a greyhound puppy for the Malton Meeting.  It is thought I shall be an eminent rural character.”  The expense of removing his family and furniture from London to Yorkshire was considerable, so he published two volumes of sermons and paid for the journey with the L200 which he received for them.  The rectory-house at Foston was ruinous and uninhabitable, and it was necessary to rebuild it.  Meanwhile, the Rector hired a house some way off, in the village of Heslington, and there he established himself on the 21st of June 1809, “two hundred miles,” as he ruefully remarked, “from London.”  Three days later he wrote to Lady Holland that he had laid down two rules for his own guidance in the country:—­

“1.  Not to smite the partridge; for, if I fed the poor, and comforted the sick, and instructed the ignorant, yet I should be nothing worth, if I smote the partridge.  If anything ever endangers the Church, it will be the strong propensity to shooting for which the clergy are remarkable.  Ten thousand good shots dispersed over the country do more harm to the cause of religion than the arguments of Voltaire and Rousseau.[62]

“2.  I mean to come to town once a year, though of that, I suppose, I shall soon be weary, finding my mind growing weaker and weaker, and my acquaintances gradually falling off.  I shall by this time have taken myself again to shy tricks, pull about my watch-chain, and become (as I was before) your abomination....  Mrs. Sydney is all rural bustle, impatient for the parturition of hens and pigs; I wait patiently, knowing all will come in due season.”

To Jeffrey he wrote on the 3rd of September:—­

“Instead of being unamused by trifles, I am, as I well knew I should be, amused by them a great deal too much.  I feel an ungovernable interest about my horses, my pigs, and my plants.  I am forced, and always was forced, to task myself up into an interest for any higher objects.”

Six days later he wrote to Lady Holland:—­

“I hear you laugh at me for being happy in the country, and upon this I have a few words to say.  In the first place, whether one lives or dies I hold, and have always held, to be of infinitely less moment than is generally supposed.  But, if life is to be, then it is common sense to amuse yourself with the best you can find where you happen to be placed.  I am not leading precisely the life I should choose, but that which (all things considered, as well as I could consider them) appeared to me to be the most eligible.  I am resolved, therefore, to like it, and to reconcile myself to it; which is more manly than to feign myself above it, and to send up complaints by the post, of being thrown away, and being desolate, and such-like trash.  I am prepared, therefore, either way.  If the chances of life ever enable me to emerge, I will show you that I have not