Now， what ill-natured devil could bring Old Nic Grimshaw into my head in company with these innocent sheep？ Why， the truth is this： nothing is so swift as thought： it runs over a life-time in a moment； and， while I was writing the last sentence of the foregoing paragraph， thought took me up at the time when I used to wear a smock-frock and to carry a wooden bottle like that shepherd' s boy； and， in an instant， it hurried me along through my no very short life of adventure， of toil， of peril， of pleasure， of ardent friendship and not less ardent enmity； and after filling me with wonder， that a heart and mind so wrapped up in every thing belonging to the gardens， the field and the woods， should have been condemned to waste themselves away amidst the stench， the noise and the strife of cities， it brought me to the present moment， and sent my mind back to what I have yet to perform about Nicholas Grimshaw and his ditches！
My sons set off about three o' clock today， on their way to Heret fordshire， where I intend to join them， when I have had a pretty good ride in this country. There is no pleasure in traveling， except on horseback， or on foot. Carriages take your body from place to place； and， if you merely want to be conveyed， they are very good； but they enable you to see and to know nothing at all of the country.
INHERITANCE IN THE PUBLIC CARCASS
Heytesbury (Wilts)，
Thursday， 31 Aug.， 1826
A little further on， however， I came to a very famous inn， called DEPTFORD INN， which is in the parish of Wyty. I stayed at this inn till about four o' clock in the afternoon. I remembered Wyly very well， and thought it a gay place when I was a boy. I remembered a very beautiful garden belonging to a rich farmer and miller. I went to see it； but， alas！ Though the statues in the water and on the grass-plat were still remaining， every thing seemed to be in a state of perfect carelessness and neglect. The living of this parish of Wyly was lately owned by DAMPIER (a brother of the judge， who lived at， and I believe had the living of， MEON STOKE in Hampshire.) This fellow， I believe， never saw the parish of Wyly but once， though it must have yielded him a pretty good fleece. It is a Rectory， and the great tithes must be worth， I should think， six or seven hundred pounds a year， at the least. It is a part of our system to have certain families， who have no particular merit； but who are to be maintained， without why or wherefore， at the public expense， in some shape， or under some name， or other， it matters not much what shape or what name. If you look through the old list of pensioners， sinecurists， parsons， and the like， you will find the same names everlastingly recurring. They seem to be sort of creatures that have an inheritance in the public carcass， like the maggots that some people have in their skins. This family of DAMPIER seems to be one of those. What， in God' s name， should have made one of these a Bishop and the other a Judge！ I never heard of the smallest particle of talent that either of them possessed. This Rector of Wyly was another of them. There was no harm in them that I know of， beyond that of living upon the public； but， where were their merits？ They had none.