“Too many dogs go to church. I am not much of a friend to the canine race at home, much less at church. Dogs piously inclined are the meanest dogs in existence. If they would go under the house or even under the benches in the house, it would not matter so much, but they will not do that. They walk up and down the aisle, and dare even to enter the pulpit where the presiding elder is. All this attracts attention, and detracts from the sermon. Once in a while a dog fight occurs during service, and two or three men have to interfere to adjust the difficulty. If the elder intimates that the congregation or neighborhood is a little too _doggish_ to suit him, somebody gets mad and calls him a ‘stuck up’ sort of a man. ‘Beware of dogs,’ said Paul. Many a good sermon has been spoiled by them. In West Virginia, especially, they are disturbing elements. I would favor a war of extermination. “But things are much better with us now than they were twenty-five years ago. We have larger and better houses of worship, and fewer dogs in proportion to population. We expect a great improvement in the next quarter of a century.” It was not an uncommon thing to see a glorious revival start at the quarterly meeting. The love-feast, which almost invariably occurred on Sunday morning before the sermon, was usually an occasion of deep interest. How the old veterans would talk! How eloquent some of them were in their simplicity! How they relished such spiritual feasts! for such they were; and no wonder they were enjoyed by some, for they had traveled, maybe on foot, twenty miles or more to get there. To such the day was a veritable Pentecost. Sometimes in the midst of the sermon or sacramental service, “hallelujahs” would be heard. Yes, once in a while the people shouted, and nobody objected to the noise or excitement. I am no prophet, but will risk the statement that when the church gets so far along that no more hosannah’s are heard, it will be about time to reconstruct things and start anew. A red-hot testimony-meeting in many of our city churches, on the quarterly communion occasion, would make the recurrence of the day and the coming of the elder an event of greater significance than it seems to be at present. Such a service would doubtless lubricate the machinery of the church, and make the work go better. The present plan of enlarging districts has its commendatory features, to be sure, and in some respects it works well, yet the old _régime_, which made it possible for the elder to be present at all the quarterlies, had its advantages.