15 June 1761 – 21 June 1761

l rode to Durham, having appointed to preach there at noon. The meadow, near the riverside, was quite convenient, and the small rain neither disturbed me nor the congregation. In the afternoon I rode to Hartlepool. But I had much ado to preach; my strength was gone as well as my voice; and indeed, they generally go together. Three days in a week I can preach thrice a day without hurting myself; but I had now far exceeded this, besides meeting classes and exhorting the societies. I was obliged to lie down a good part of Tuesday. However, in the afternoon I preached at Cherington, and in the evening at Hartlepool again, though not without difficulty.

I rode to Stockton, where, a little before the time of preaching, my voice and strength were restored at once. The next evening it began to rain just as I began to preach; but it was suspended till the service was over; it then rained again till eight in the morning.

It was hard work to ride eight miles (so called) in two hours and a half, the rain beating upon us, and the by-road being exceedingly slippery. But we forgot all this when we came to the Grange, so greatly was God present with His people. Thence we rode to Darlington. Here we were under a difficulty again; not half the people could come in, and the rain forbade my preaching without. But at one (the hour of preaching) the rain stopped and did not begin again till past two; so the people stood very conveniently in the yard, and many did not care to go away. When I went in, they crowded to the door and windows, and stayed till I took horse. At seven I preached at Yarm, and desired one of our brethren to take my place in the morning.

I rode to Osmotherley, where the minister read prayers seriously and preached a useful sermon. After service I began in the churchyard: I believe many were wounded and many comforted. After dinner I called on Mr. Adams, who first invited me to Osmotherley. He was reading the strange account of the two missionaries who have lately made such a figure in the newspapers. I suppose the whole account is just such another gross imposition upon the public as the man's gathering the people together to see him go into the quart bottle. "Men seven hundred years old!" And why not seven yards high? He that can believe it, let him believe it.