At Dover Castle

1756.—Monday, January 26.—I rode to Canterbury and preached in the evening to such a congregation as I never saw there before, in which were abundance of the soldiers and not a few of their officers.

Wednesday, 28.—I preached about noon at Dover to a very serious but small congregation. We afterwards walked up to the castle, on the top of a mountain. It is an amazingly fine situation; and from hence we had a clear view of that vast piece of the cliff which a few days ago divided from the rest and fell down upon the beach.

Friday, 30.—In returning to London, I read the life of the late Tsar, Peter the Great. Undoubtedly he was a soldier, a general, and a statesman, scarcely inferior to any. But why was he called a Christian? What has Christianity to do either with deep dissimulation or savage cruelty?

Friday, February 6.—The fast-day was a glorious day, such as London has scarcely seen since the Restoration. Every church in the city was more than full, and a solemn seriousness sat on every face. Surely God heareth the prayer, and there will yet be a lengthening of our tranquillity. [1]