Tuesday, 21. -- I rode on to Tiverton, and thence through Launceston, Camelford, Port Isaac, Cubert, St. Agnes, and Redruth, to St. Ives. Here God has made all our enemies to be at peace with us, so that I might have preached in any part of the town. But I rather chose a meadow, where such as would might sit down, either on the grass or on the hedges -- so the Cornish term their broad stone walls, which are usually covered with grass. Here I enforced, "Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man."

Saturday, September 1. -- I took a walk to the top of that celebrated hill, Carn Brae. Here are many monuments of remote antiquity, scarcely to be found in any other part of Europe: Druid altars of enormous size, being only huge rocks, strangely suspended one upon the other; and rock basins, followed on the surface of the rock, it is supposed, to contain the holy water. It is probable these are at least coeval with Pompey's theater, if not with the pyramids of Egypt. And what are they the better for this? Of what consequence is it either to the dead or the living whether they have withstood the wastes of time for three thousand or three hundred years?