|Taught by a Chaise Boy|

Monday, July 21. -- Having been much pressed to preach at Jatterson, a colliery six or seven miles from Pembroke, I began soon after seven. The house was presently filled and all the space about the doors and windows; the poor people drank in every word. I had finished my sermon when a gentleman, violently pressing in, bade the people get home and mind their business. As he used some bad words, my driver spoke to him. He fiercely said, "Do you think I need to be taught by a chaise-boy?" The lad replying, "Really, sir, I do think so," the conversation ended.

Tuesday, August 5. -- Our yearly Conference began. I now particularly inquired (as that report had been spread far and wide) of every assistant, "Have you reason to believe, from your own observation, that the Methodists are a fallen people? Is there a decay or an increase in the work of God where you have been?

Are the societies in general more dead, or more alive to God, than they were some years ago?" The almost universal answer was, "If we must know them by their fruits,' there is no decay in the work of God among the people in general. The societies are not dead to God: they are as much alive as they have been for many years. And we look on this report as a mere device of Satan to make our hands hang down."