Sunday, February 22 1761

In the morning rode over to Framfield, but did not stay. Came home and breakfasted and then set out for Lewes, where I dined at Mr Madgwick’s on a neck of veal roasted, and currant butter pudding cake boiled and greens (my family at home dining on a leg of mutton roasted, and potatoes).

I paid Mr John Madgwick in cash 2.13.2 in full for goods bought of him today, and also gave him in cash 1.18.6 in order for him to pay Mr Stephen Fletcher, servant to Mr Sam Ridings, in full on my account.

I called on Mr George Verral and Mr Thomas Scrase, and came home about 6:30 and, Oh, could I say sober — but my frail resolution and weak brain frustrated my intentions in that particular. Oh, how does the thought of it torment my conscience; well might the wise man say: a wounded spirit who can bear? So many times… [80 words omitted] …Drunkenness is only as an inlet to all other vices, for when reason is laid asleep, then, then! sense and passion ride triumphant, so weak is nature (or at least corrupt and fallen nature), but what I most stand aghast at is to think how miserable (nay, even past description) must my unhappy lot assuredly be should I asleep never to open my eyes again in this world (whenever I am in liquor). No, my portion must be that of the wicked person who knows not God, ab! and possibly more severe, nothing but wailing md weeping and gnashing of teeth… [47 words omitted].

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