Sunday, 24. -- I preached at Skinner's Alley at five; and on Oxmantown Green at eight. I was weak in body, but was greatly revived by the seriousness and earnestness of the congregation. Resolving to improve the opportunity, I gave notice of preaching there again in the afternoon; which I did to a congregation much more numerous and equally attentive. As I came home I was glad to lie down, having a quinsy attended with a fever. However, when the society met, I made a shift to creep in among them. Immediately my voice was restored. I spoke without pain for nearly an hour together. And great was our rejoicing over each other; knowing that God would order all things well.

Monday, 25. -- Finding my fever greatly increased, I judged it would be best to keep my bed and to live awhile on apples and apple-tea. On Tuesday I was quite well and should have preached but that Dr. Rutty (who had been with me twice) insisted on my resting for a time.

I read today what is accounted the most correct history of St. Patrick that is extant; and, on the maturest consideration, I was much inclined to believe that St. Patrick and St. George were of one family. The whole story smells strong of romance.