Dr Crisp once advised I should maintain a journal, therein recording musings (idle and otherwise), thoughts, struggles against the residue of Adam, despair, temptation etc; an exercise that lasted appx two weeks, when it occurred to me, should it ever happen my foot shall slide toward grave Error, God would to me indicate in a manner other than my own Scribblings. And more important, it is likely the preference of God that I be up and doing, and not sit idle like some Cistercian, chewing on the dry crusts of imagined Sin and the husks of the Old Law, with all of the great Waste of time attendant thereunto.

But this morning it occurred to me, while pondering the great deeds of the Israelites in the days of Joshua, and the Judges, and their struggles to establish a Governance that would withstand Tyranny, et al; that such a journal, or daybook, setting forth in a manner clear and unadorned, the Events of these times, and my observations and understandings thereof, might be of some Value; a sort of first draft of History, an aggregation of facts that might reveal, how God is trampling the things of Man underfoot, as He works His Will in England.

Too, there is the more Prosaical matter of my enforced Idleness, that is, ensconced in my House, somewhat Leery of venturing into the potential Grip of Ruffians in the employee of Halpenny and the Merchant Adventurers, or whoever else in this Wide World that can think of nothing better to do with his Time than gnaw at my mental Ankles; to wit, those two Strange people I met at Parliament, under the pretence of a visit to Mr John Pym. I finally met with Mr Pym this morning.

Pym denies all knowledge, says he had nothing to do with the Note inviting me to Parliament ("'tis not even my Secretary's handwriting.'") We met at Bedford House near Covent Garden, and I escorted to him through the servant's entrance. Could not Conclude, it's best for his designs if he not be seen with me, Disreputable as I am in the eyes of the M.A.'s, and Pym must needs keep them quiescent, or at least Unannoyed. Particularly in light of the unpleasant fact (as he told me) that soon a new Levy, perhaps again called a "voluntary loan" to support the War, will be imposed on the Kingdom, particularly the City. I made clear that all that's mine, was his, at 7 percent (one percent less than offered the City), should I find Remedy from my legal Difficulties; he harrumphed around that, and I did not press the matter but will so in the future.

Pym's face is chalky, his eyes bloodshot; he coughs much, and often loses his train of though; it's more than the Cares of the War, considerable though they be. He is, I fear, quite Sick; which is worrisome with Col Hampden with the Army.

He explained the Scots business to me; once the undergrowth of Platitudes are stripped away, that is "brotherly affection between those Christians dedicated to purifying the worship of God &c", it would seem that what the Scots seek, is Money, and the reformation of the churches in England along Presbyterian lines. Or put another way, the Scots wish to impose their System upon us, and be paid for it.

He said the Commissioners of Scotland should arrive mid-Month, and was it possible, "as a service to EnglandI would quarter one or several in my House. Denying this was of course an impossibility; I will Mrs Beale to learn the preparation of the dish of Oats cooked in sheep's bladder, that I understand is a delicacy in the northern Kingdom.

LATER: Hewitt has obtained for me, and my house, a Bodyguard. They are a Troupe of Actors (the Theaters having been closed in September); I know not their actual skill at Arms, but Hewitt assures me they can give the Similitude of ferocity. One, named Overton, seems more clever than most; he claims to have some skill at writing. We shall see. 

LATER: Some mail. From Kent, Wine successfully landed. From Paige, the Shirtings from the Bristol cloth sold to the Klasskojens. From Mother, Edmund (with Cromwell's troop rising toward Essex) established a sort of Trust for Father ("and the woman Anne," as Mother put it; there is potential for much ruin in those four words). From Edmund, some long vituperation on how poorly father treated &c; I could not bother to read beyond the second sentence, such was the misinformed froth and nonsense. From Firth, King near Shrewbury, bickering on the direction of the March. Deserters from Parliament increasing. Essex said near Worcester.

QUESTION, is it possible to join Hampden for a fortnight or so, to observe the movements of Essex; tis strange that our best Information is from the Camp of the King.

EVEN LATER: Gus hath captured a great Mouse, to the delight of Emma and Peter. I relieved him of the nasty thing, to his considerable annoyance, and threw it into the Yard.

QUESTION, if I join Hampden can the Cats come, as baggage -- no, that would be Cruel, they being creatures of Routine, for whom the chaos of War would be Unpleasant. Still tis a nice thought.