31 August 1778 – 6 September 1778

I went to Tiverton. I was musing here on what I heard a good man say long since--"Once in seven years I burn all my sermons; for it is a shame if I cannot write better sermons now than I could seven years ago." Whatever others can do, I really cannot. I cannot write a better sermon on the Good Steward than I did seven years ago; I cannot write a better on the Great Assize than I did twenty years ago; I cannot write a better on the Use of Money, than I did nearly thirty years ago; nay, I know not that I can write a better on the Circumcision of the Heart than I did five-and-forty years ago. Perhaps, indeed, I may have read five or six hundred books more than I had then, and may know a little more history, or natural philosophy, than I did; but I am not sensible that this has made any essential addition to my knowledge in divinity. Forty years ago I knew and preached every Christian doctrine which I preach now.

About noon I preached at Cathanger, about eight miles from Taunton. It was an exceedingly large house, built (as the inscription over the gate testifies) in the year 1555 by Sergeant Walsh, who had then eight thousand pounds a year; perhaps more than equal to twenty thousand now. But the once famous family is now forgotten; the estate is moldered almost into nothing, and three quarters of the magnificent buildings lie level with the dust. I preached in the great hall, like that of Lincoln College, to a very serious congregation. In the evening I preached at South Petherton, once a place of renown and the capital of a Saxon kingdom, as is vouched by a palace of King Ina still remaining and a very large and ancient church. I suppose the last blow given to it was by Judge Jefferies who, after Monmouth's rebellion, hanged so many of the inhabitants and drove so many away that it is never likely to lift up its head again.