1814

I preached at Rembert’s chapel.

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I preached in the chapel.

NORTH CAROLINA

On Monday we came away, in company with Myers and Norton,¹ to Fayetteville, one hundred and forty miles, visiting many families in our route.

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I received seven letters: the contents of some of them make me feel serious. We learn that Bishop Coke, with seven young preachers, have sailed for the East Indies.¹ The British Society is poor as well as ourselves, it would appear: this is a good sign. In less than one hundred years, Methodism has spread over three quarters of the globe; and it is now about to carry the Gospel of salvation into Asia. Amen. I am divinely impressed with a charge to preach sanctification in every sermon.

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We had rain. Bishop M’Kendree preached. I preached on Isaiah 64:7. We had a spiritual, heavenly, and united conference.¹ There were twenty deacons ordained, eighty-five preachers stationed: twelve have located, and one has died, suddenly; and fifteen are added.

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I preached. Thursday, we came away. On our way we called on Hughes, Shaw, and Saunderson, exhorting and praying with their families. I enjoy great peace of mind.

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I preached in our chapel, fifty by sixty feet, to a small congregation. Am I not a child, to have been looking for summer? William Glendenning and I met, and embraced each other in peace. I visited sister Perry, the former wife of John King, one of the first Methodist preachers. After all reasonable allowances for drawbacks, we cannot yet tell all the good that was done by our conference in Raleigh, in 1811. We started away northward. Not half a mile from Samuel Alston’s¹ we got entangled in the woods. We left the gig in the woods till morning, and found our way by torch light to the house. I preached at my kind host’s. On our way to Doctor Brodie’s, in Louisburg, we called to dine with our friend Thomas Alston, junior.

VIRGINIA

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I am at Norfolk. I have had a serious attack of pleuritic fever, with little intermission of pain until the fifteenth day. I have, during this illness, been moving about amongst the families of the Williamses, the Harrises, the widow Weavers, the Bennetts, and the Merediths; and O! what kindness and nursing. I preached at Henry Williams’s, quarter-meeting, and occasionally elsewhere. Our conference¹ in Norfolk rose on Tuesday, March 1. We have been mighty in talk this session. I dare not speak my mind on the state of this place—its Church or its ministry. I endure all things for the elect’s sake; and rejoice that peace is again happily restored to the society. Shall we not drop and locate more labourers than we receive? We had a great many sermons preached, as usual; and we have reason to hope souls were converted. I ordained deacons, and assisted my brethren in the ministration of the word.

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We came out of the borough: it was keen and cold to Shoulders hill.

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Came to Andrew Woodville’s. We reached Richmond on Saturday. Our journey hither has been through snows and excessive cold; I felt it deeply. We were careful to pray with the families where we stopped, exhorting all professors to holiness.

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I preached in the old chapel; our labour shall not all be in vain. Doctor Jennings has removed to Richmond; to be useful, we hope, to the society and to himself.

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA

A journey of suffering by bad roads, and exposure to excessive cold, brought us to Georgetown, Maryland. In the year 1774¹ I first visited Virginia and North Carolina; in the year 1780 I repeated my visit; and since that time, yearly. In the year 1785 I first visited South Carolina and Georgia; and to these States have since paid (except one year) an annual visit, until now (1814). I suppose I have crossed the Alleghany mountains sixty times.

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I preached in our church in Georgetown, and met the society. We do not labour in vain. My mind is deeply impressed with the worth of souls and value of time.

MARYLAND

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Baltimore Conference¹ hath been sitting in great order seven days. My strength and labour was to sit still. I was sick during the whole session: I preached in Old Town, and ordained nine deacons. We have stationed eighty-six members. By request, I discoursed on the character of the angel of the Church of Philadelphia, in allusion to P.W. Otterbein—the holy, the great Otterbein, whose funeral discourse it was intended to be. Solemnity marked the silent meeting in the German Church, where were assembled the members of our conference, and many of the clergy of the city. Forty years have I known the retiring modesty of this man of God; towering majestic above his fellows in learning, wisdom, and grace, yet seeking to be known only of God and the people of God; he had been sixty years a minister, fifty years a converted one.

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I am at Perry Hall, where I have been for three days very ill. The Sabbath was an awful and dumb day. I took an emetic.

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I crossed the Susquehanna. At North East I visited Daniel Sheridan, a son of deep affliction in body, mind, and circumstances. He is one of my spiritual children, and has remained a disciple forty years: we prayed together, and God was with us of a truth.

DELAWARE

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I preached in Wilmington. Monday, we had great consolation in visiting Mary Withy’s children and grandchildren: she, though dead, is yet spoken of. One of these last is in society. I baptized the children of Allan and Lewis McLane:¹ these people have not forgotten the holy living and dying of their mother, nor her early and constant friend, the writer of this journal. Joseph Pilmoor² is yet alive, and preaches three times every Sabbath.

PENNSYLVANIA.

Philadelphia, Tuesday, 5. This is the eve of conference.

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I preached in the Academy chapel, and at St. George’s. Our conference opened and progressed four days in great peace and Gospel order. We doubt not but that souls have been convinced, converted, comforted, and sanctified by the ministry of the word; we had crowded houses, both in the day and at night. The bishops wrote a serious letter to New England, remonstrating on the neglect of family worship.

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The Philadelphia Conference rose in the spirit, power, and peace of God, in which they had been sitting seven days. NEW JERSEY

Friday, crossed in a steamboat¹ to the Jersey shore. I am very unwell.

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I rode twenty miles from Woodbury¹ to Perkintown,² to see the people: we gave an exhortation in great weakness, but the power of truth was felt.

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I preached at Penns Neck, at Salem, and at Cohansey Bridge. I preached also at Pitts Grove. We may say, that when we are weak, we are strong in the strength of God: yea, Lord, thou art our strength! I preached at Union chapel, and the Lord gave power to his own truth. I preached at Bethel. We had a rainy day, and my flesh failed. I rested at Daniel Bates’s, greatly spent with labour. We should have failed in our march through Jersey, but we have received great kindness and attentions, and have had great accommodations. I return to my journal after an interval of twelve weeks.¹ I have been ill indeed, but medicine, nursing, and kindness, under God, have been so far effectual, that I have recovered strength enough to sit in my little covered wagon, into which they lift me.

PENNSYLVANIA

I have clambered over the rude mountains, passing through York and Chambersburg to Greensburg.²

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I would not be loved to death, and so came down from my sick room and took to the road, weak enough. Attentions constant, and kindness unceasing, have pursued me to this place, and my strength increases daily. I look back upon a martyr’s life of toil, and privation, and pain; and I am ready for a martyr’s death. The purity of my intentions; my diligence in the labours to which God has been pleased to call me; the unknown sufferings I have endured; what are all these?—the merit. atonement, and righteousness of Christ alone make my plea. My friends in Philadelphia gave me a light, little four-wheeled carriage; but God and the Baltimore Conference made me a richer present—they gave me John Wesley Bond for a travelling companion;¹ has he his equal on the earth for excellencies of every kind as an aid? I groan one minute with pain, and shout glory the next!

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Pittsburgh. We have made three hundred and fifty miles since we left Jersey. What roads! It was the mercy of Providence, or we should have been dashed to pieces. My body is, nevertheless, in better health; and my mind and soul happy and confident in God. Glory, glory, glory be to the Triune God!

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We bent our way down the west side of the Ohio to Sewickley:¹ here we were detained two days. John Wesley Bond preached to the people, and I added a few feeble words of exhortation. We having foundered one of our horses, bought a clever little mare for sixty dollars. Crossed Great and Little Beaver. At J. Hemphill’s we were told that no person would be more willing for prayer, did business permit— alas! On our way we got fast in a gully: Mr. Lyon, a merchant hereabouts, came up, dismounted in a moment, and sprang to my relief, lifted me out of the carriage, and bore me up the hill: there was something peculiarly engaging in this man’s face, whole appearance, and manners.

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We came to Thomas Fawcett’s, fasting. “Surely you may stay a night,” it was observed. But no—time presses—though sick and feeble, we started away at three o’clock. It might not be: about a hundred yards from the house crack went the pole. “It is all for the best,” said pious Gilpin, when his leg was broken; and he lived to prophesy in after times and better days, while the execrated Mary, who would have burnt him at the stake, was mouldering in the dust.

OHIO

Sabbath. Brother Bond preached upon a mount crowned with sugar trees. I spoke a few words in exhortation. Had we not chained the wheel, we should have gone souse into Yellow Creek. Tuesday, we had crooked work—we splintered the axle tree, and stopped at the widow Pritchard’s. We held two meetings—one at noon, and again at night.

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Came to Steubenville. At Bezaleel Wells’s we have every accommodation that a president might wish for, with great kindness and polite attentions from all the members of the house. I keep my room, and listen to the storms of wind and rain abroad. My occupations are, reading Saurin, the oracles of God, and prayer. My health is better, although I still cough. I live in patience, in purity, and the perfect love of God. Being disappointed on the Sabbath, I must of necessity meet the people of Steubenville on Monday. I preached, and there were those who felt, beside the speaker.

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We made a valiant start forwards. It was racking work over Creek Hill. Here crack went the bolt; it had been badly mended before. Woe to us had it given way on the last hill. We lodged at Snyder’s. I spoke at Cadiz with a feeble voice, and addressed the society after preaching. We rode forward to a brother’s, where we found a large family and small house. Within eight miles of Cambridge we were glad to stop: here is a purgatory, if fleas can make one.

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We strove hard to get forward through the heat to Will’s Creek. It is as deep as ever, but this is not the first time I have tried it; it is better now, it is said: bad is the best, say I. We reached James Browne’s.

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At Zanesville brother Bond preached, and met about fifty souls in class. I gave an exhortation; it is my first, and may be my valedictory. We have a well-designed house here. This country is in a general state of improvement. Monday, to Middletown.

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To James Teel’s. My infant weakness, and entire dependence upon the aid of others; the excessive heat and rough roads; together with certain cases and things, are trying to body and mind: Lord, thou dost, and thou wilt support a worm, and no man! Make me, O Lord, make me perfect!

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To Jesse Spurgeon’s. Thursday, rest. I committed to paper some observations on a book written by B.J. Smith, an elected deacon, against our doctrine, discipline, and administration.

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We came through Circleville. What surprising mounds of earth! Who hath done this? The larger circle must have had water. Stopped at Jeffersonville. Saturday, to William M’Dowell’s; we found the family sick with the autumnal fever.

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I preached at M’Dowell’s. Tuesday, I preached in great weakness in Chilicothe; but my help was with me; in God will I make my boast. From the 24th to the 30th, we are at senator Worthington’s. I pay my mite of worship in this amiable family in great weakness. The kind attentions I receive are greatly beyond my deserts. Mrs. Worthington has taught her boys and girls, servants and children, to read the holy Scriptures, and they are well instructed: I heard them more than one lesson with much satisfaction. O that all mothers would do likewise! I presume the worship of God is kept up in this house, though neither of the heads thereof have attached themselves to any society of professing Christians: doubtless God will bless them, and their children after them. We, ever and anon, halt and listen for dear M’Kendree, but as yet we are without tidings: we are somewhat anxious to see him. Tuesday, we came away to Merchant’s.

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I made a feeble attempt at Lebanon, on 2 Peter 3:14. I also spoke last night. Tuesday, we arrived in Cincinnati. There is distress everywhere; in the Church, and abroad in the United States. I have discharged blood in coughing.

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I made an attempt to speak a few words on Philippians 2:2-5. We have progressed in our conference business very well, although deprived of the presence of the bishops to preside. Bishop M’Kendree had been thrown from his horse, and was severely wounded in the hip and ribs.¹ John Sale presided with great propriety. We lost two days by impeachment of elders; one of whom, in vindicating his character, injured as he thought, had not done it becomingly; there was a more excellent way. The other case was that of Samuel Parker, who had checked the administration of one whom he had employed for a time; these investigations were painful to our feelings, and gave rise to some sturdy debating. On Friday I retired to bed with a chill and fever. John Sale finished the plan of the stations from a general draft I furnished him. We closed our labours in peace. One thing I remark; our conferences are out of their infancy: their rulers can now be called from amongst themselves. The dividend of the Ohio Conference was seventy-four dollars to the unmarried, and one hundred and forty-four dollars to the married preachers and their wives. But two hundred dollars were drawn from the Book Concern, and fifty of that sum were returned. I have preached. We lodge at William Lines’s. The news has reached us of the descent of the British in Maryland, and the burning of the public buildings at Washington. KENTUCKY

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We hasted away, as the river was still rising; night and necessity housed us at Norton’s. Next day to Fisher’s. We dined in Georgetown at the Eagle Tavern, and after our meal called the family to prayer: the landlady was a finished lady in her manners, and kind as she was clever; peace, peace, peace, be upon her!

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I gave a serious charge to the widow Ratcliffe and her family; the venerable man of the house has gone to rest. Thursday, at Edward Talbot’s.¹ The gloomy days of J. B——r, B——m, William Burke are over; peace is restored, a society increased, a family blessed with a son a preacher; a house is built, and a society united in Shelbyville:² for all these we give glory unto thee, O God!

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To Miller’s in haste. Saturday, we came through Bardstown to Elizabethton, Hardin county; so called after my serious friend Colonel Hardin.¹ I travelled many miles with brother Hardin towards Lexington, when he was going up to take his command: he was very solemn; a martyr to Indian massacre, I doubt not but that he went to glory. We lodged at the house of Stephen Rawlings, son of Stephen, formerly of Back Creek, Berkley county, Virginia; in 1776 I preached in the grandfather’s house.

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I preached the funeral sermon of the wife of Stephen Rawlings. In this family of Rawlings, I have officiated for three generations, and have witnessed their profession of religion: may they continue to be in Christ to the latest posterity! We reached M’Gatchin’s on Monday; it is all love and union here: two of the children have joined the society. The Woodsons, at the ferry, were very friendly: they are Anti-pedobaptists.

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We were kindly entreated to stop by our sister Gatwood, and were well entertained. The dust and heat are oppressive, and I am sick.

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At Major Bibb’s. Twenty-six years past I was at a brother Williams’s, Prince Edward county, Virginia—a brand plucked from the burning.

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We came upon the camp ground, where we are to hold our conference.¹

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I ordained about twenty deacons, and gave a sermon and an exhortation. Our encampment cook is brother Douglass.¹ We are two hours in the chapel, four hours at the preaching-stand, and then come home. We sit six hours a day in conference. Poor bishops—sick, lame, and in poverty! I had wished to visit Mississippi, but the injury received by Bishop M’Kendree being so great that it is yet doubtful whether he will so far recover as to be present at the South Carolina Conference, I must decline going: I live in God.

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We closed our labours in great peace and love. The families have been kind to us, but we were much crowded. We have lost members from the society, and gained, perhaps, one preacher in the itinerancy in two years; the local ministry is enriched: may we expect more help? Ah! the labour is too hard, and the wages too low. We cannot, like the Quakers, take abroad when we get tired of home, and go feasting about from one rich friend’s table to another’s, and bark or be dumb, as the fit may take us. Our discipline is too strict: we cannot leave four or five thousand congregations unsought, like the Church of England, the Presbyterian, Independent, and Baptist Churches. Go, says the command; go into all the world—go to the highway and hedges. Go out—seek them. Christ came seeking the lost sheep. Seek me out, says the parson; or advertise and offer a church and a good salary, and I will seek you. And is this all these pretenders can do? If we send but one travelling preacher into a four weeks’ circuit, we aid him by the labour of our local ministry, good men, and some of them great men.

TENNESSEE

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I would have preached to-day at Fountain Head,¹ but I was bed sick. Thomas Logan Douglass supplied my place. We came away to Doctor Porter’s on Monday, forty-six miles.

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We reached Harvey’s, thirty-five miles. The families of Shaw and Walton were visited as we came along. O, the heat, the dust!

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We called upon the weeping widow Quarles, whose husband was beaten to death: the supposed murderer, Phillips, is condemned to death; it was a sad scene. Lodged at Terry’s, and were pleased with our entertainment.

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At Holt’s, junior; I preached and baptized an infant. Forward we jolted over the turnpike (for which they made us pay a dollar) to Dunlap’s.

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We had heat in the extreme to Holt’s senior, forty-six miles. Saturday, I had a very painful colic. In the families of Holt we have served four generations.

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Heating there was a Presbyterian congregation, we asked to preach and hear: we did both. Mr. Nelson spoke first, and I addressed Methodists and others, on John 8:31, 32: “Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” How to know the truth? By continuing under Gospel ministry, and using Gospel means. Ye shall know the truth— of the Gospel; feelingly, experimentally, practically. Make you free. What the freedom wrought consists in. It is an entire deliverance from sin—from its guilt, power, and inbeing. A freedom embracing the privileges of pardon, peace, patience, meekness, perfect love, joy on earth, and everlasting glory in heaven. We hasted away, after meeting, to William Cunningham’s.¹

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We came rapidly through Dandridge to William Turnley’s:¹ here are kind souls. I was sick, and soon in bed, but John Bond preached for them.

NORTH CAROLINA

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Our ride brought us to Jarratt’s, on Pigeon River. O my excellent son, John Bond! A tree had fallen across our way—what was to be done? Brother Bond sprung to the axe fastened under our carriage. mounted upon the large limbs, hewing and hacking, stroke after strike, without intermission, until he had cut away five of them, hauling them on one side as he severed them, so that we passed without difficulty. Is there his equal to be found in the United States? He drives me along with the utmost care and tenderness, he fills my appointments by preaching for me when I am disabled, he watches over me at night after the fatigue of driving all day, and if, when he is in bed and asleep, I call, he is awake and up in the instant to give me medicine, or to perform any other services his sick father may require of him; and this is done so readily, and with so much patience, when my constant infirmities and ill health require so many and oft-repeated attentions! We have had a great drought—I think I never saw the rivers so low. The asthma presses sorely upon my panting breast: Lord, sanctify all my afflictions! The work of God groweth in the neighbourhood; there is a house thirty-five by forty feet built in the fork of Pigeon River. Ought we not to have a Holston Conference, and unite with the circuits west of the Blue Ridge, Bottetourt and New River, the circuits in North Carolina?

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Rode to Bollen’s.¹ Behold! Richard Bird came one hundred miles to hasten us to camp meeting away on the bleak hills of Haywood.² I was forced by misery to retire to my room and bed at Bollen’s; but son John held a meeting and preached.

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We came by Nelson Spring’s¹ to Barnett’s gate, for, poor man! some wicked people had burnt his barn; his house escaped. Does Hootenpile pray? I asked. You called upon him; and God did bless the word and prayer to his soul: this was the answer in remembrance he sent me by Richard Bird. We came on the camp ground, Friday, 21. Saturday, I preached and ordained W. Span and J. Evans deacons.

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Ordained two elders, Thomas Bird and Samuel Edney, after preaching. In our tent we contrived a hearth, and had a fire. Monday, we visited Richard Bird’s.

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I preached in the house of the father, Benjamin Bird;¹ there was much feeling manifested. We collected liberally on the mite subscription, to help the suffering ministry. I had for twenty years past wished to visit the Cove; it is done, and I have seen my old, tried friends, dear Richard and Jonah Bird, and William Fulwood, who sheltered me when, during the war of independence, I was compelled to retire to the swamps and thickets for safety.

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Our ride brought us to Rutherford’s. I paid them as well as I could, for their kindness and attentions, by exhortation and prayer.

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To M’Hathing’s, forty-one miles. Daniel Asbury¹ wished me to take Catawba, above Ladies’ Ford, and crossed at the Horse Ford, where a former journal will show my life to have been in danger some years ago. I preached in the evening at Daniel Asbury’s, Lincoln county, near Sherwell’s Ford. These are kind spirits, who say, “You make your rides too long”; yet they will scarcely be denied when invited to their houses, making my rides longer still; here am I, ten miles out of my way, to see these dear people. And now that limbs, lungs, strength, and teeth fail, I must still go my round of six thousand miles within the year.

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Editorial note: The supplied edition cites “Acts 30:32” (ASB_VOL2.PDF, PDF page 669), but this is not a valid reference in the library’s KJV numbering. The source’s own footnote discusses the difficulty: This book has only twenty-eight chapters. There is no indication as to what the passage may have been. The 1821 printed journal also reads “Acts xxx. 32”; that older witness does not remove the citation difficulty. Francis Asbury, Journal (1821), PDF page 373.

I passed a restless, feverish night; yet as I was expected to preach on the camp ground, I discoursed to a large, simple-hearted congregation, on Acts 30:32.¹ I sat in the end of my little Jersey wagon, screened by the drawn curtain behind me. It was no common time to either speaker or hearers. We retired after meeting to Jonathan Jackson’s.² What a rich table was provided! not for me; I retired to bed with a high fever. My spiritual consolations flow from God in rich abundance; my soul rejoices exceedingly in God.

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To Robey’s, near Catawba springs.

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I preached to a very attentive people: surely the speaker and hearers felt the power of the word of God. After a hasty dinner, we rode on to Nathan Sadler’s, steward of the Lincoln circuit.

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I spoke with very unpleasant feelings on Luke 11:13. We hasted to Featherstone Wells’s.¹ Here were all comforts for a sick man; good food, beds, and nursing. This family is blest. Sister Wells² is the granddaughter of my ancient friend, father May, of Amelia, and her children are in the way to heaven: here is the fruit of my labours. What a comfort is it to see the fourth generation growing up under our eyes, living in the fear of God, and following in the same path those who are gone to glory!

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Crossed the north fork of Catawba to Bethesda chapel:¹ the day was damp, and there was a damp upon preacher and people. We went forward to John Dameron’s,² where I was expected to preach, and I did try, but the people were so wonderfully taken up with the novel sight of the little carriage, and still more of the strange-looking old man who was addressing them, that the speaker made little impression on his hearers. Who neglects me? Not the kind, loving Damerons.

SOUTH CAROLINA

We came to John Watson’s, Allison’s creek,³ on Friday.

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At Sardis chapel.¹ The weather was unpleasant. My congregation might have tried my patience.

Monday, we came to Henry Smith’s,² an Israelite; he is a native of East Jersey. Tuesday, to Winnsboro.

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I am here since last Tuesday. I enjoy constant peace and consolation.

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Editorial note: The supplied edition cites “1 Peter 14:17” (ASB_VOL2.PDF, PDF page 670), but this is not a valid reference in the library’s KJV numbering. The source’s own footnote discusses the difficulty: This book has only five chapters. The text does not indicate what the passage may have been. The 1821 printed journal also reads “1 Pet. xiv. 17”; that older witness does not remove the citation difficulty. Francis Asbury, Journal (1821), PDF page 373.

I preached at Winnsboro a long discourse on 1 Peter 14:17.¹ Monday, to widow Means’s. We shall ride about two hundred and twenty miles out of the way to Georgia, but in the way of our duty. Tuesday, I preached at Bethel:² we hope good was done. Edward Finch, a son of affliction, is still on crutches.

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Dined with elder Stephen Shell.¹ Lodged with Frederick Foster. Thursday, we had a crowded house at Hopewell chapel:² the speaker stood in weakness, but truth came in power to the hearts of the people. Ordained John Molineaux a deacon. Lodged at John Leak’s:³ the master, a local labourer, is gone to his rest and reward.

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Rain. We got bewildered, and were glad to stop with Mr. Morrow,¹ a Presbyterian, who kindly received and entertained us. Saturday, we came to Staunton bridge.

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Bishop M’Kendree preached and J.W. Bond. I spoke a few words from my carriage: we hope the testimony of three men will be believed. God is with me in all my feebleness. We have visited North Carolina to Catawba, South Carolina; and Fairfield, Newberry, Laurens, and Greenville districts. Monday and Tuesday, we are at rest at father Staunton’s,¹ an active and holy man; an Israelite indeed of seventy-seven years.

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We gave an evening lecture at Talliaferro’s;¹ the night was damp, and few people attended. Nights of suffering are appointed to me; but God is with us. Thursday, rested.

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Rode twenty-five miles to widow King’s, Pendleton district. I am reading Saurin’s¹ fifth volume: he is great in his way, but it is not Wesley’s way, which I take to be the more excellent way. Saturday, damp, rainy day. I enjoy my private devotions.

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It broke away clear for a while, and I took a stand outside of the door, and spoke to the people on Galatians 5:6. Monday, to John Power’s; here are new disciples, and they are all love. Tuesday, to Benjamin Glover’s.

GEORGIA

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I preached at Samuel Rembert’s:¹ I was feeble, and could not speak with much energy. Here I met with Thomas Asbury, born in Burslem, Stafford, Old England, formerly a member of the British conference. God is gracious to us. Alas! we cannot tell the people of so many things which they do not know, as we can of those which they neither feel nor do. On inquiry of Joseph Tarpley of the work of God in the Ogechee district, of which he is presiding elder, he gave me the following account:—At Little River camp meeting, the number which attended were thought to be three thousand, the converts about thirty. At Appalachee, number attending two thousand five hundred, the converts twenty-five. At Grove camp meeting two thousand attended, the converts might be twenty. At Louisville camp meeting there were scarcely more than one thousand, there might be ten converts. At the Warren two thousand five hundred persons to hear, and but few converts: each camp meeting continued four days.

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I preached in Thompson’s chapel: the Lord was present. We collected the official brethren into the school-house, where I gave them a talk on the doctrines and discipline of our Church.

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I preached at Thompson’s chapel. Monday, rode from J. Alston’s to James Mark’s, Elbert county. Tuesday, I preached in the chapel: widow Gilmore received us under her roof for the night. Wednesday, we reached Prospect, and I preached; the speaker’s mind is too strong for his body. It was a sacramental day. Thursday, resting at Archibald Pope’s. The weather has occasioned me much suffering, notwithstanding the kindness and good dinners of friends, and the convenience of my covered cradle on wheels.

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I preached at Bethlehem to about three hundred souls: the house was unfinished, and damp, and cold. Lodged at the house of the widow of Henry Pope.¹ By letter from John Earley² we have great accounts of the work of God at camp meetings in Amelia and Prince Edward.³ Saturday, came to Athens, accompanied by Hope Hull.

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Preached in the college chapel;¹ the people were very attentive in that open penance house. The state of things is strangely changed since Doctor Brown² has had the presidency: he is a man of piety and order, and will render unto all their due. Monday, to Joseph Floyd’s, on Appalachee. Tuesday I preached at J. Floyd’s house: the people appeared somewhat like the preacher, sickly and slender. I ordained Samuel Patallo a deacon, and baptized three children. The lands here are good; but the price paid for quiet possession has been great—sickness, deaths, and murders by Indians.

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Rode twenty miles to Nicholas Ware’s. When I see mother Steward’s children I rejoice. Holy woman! thou didst not believe, and live, and weep, and pray, and die in vain; neither for thyself, nor for thy children, nor thy children’s children. Verily, there is a reward for the righteous.

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To Thomas Scott’s; a brand re-plucked from the burning.

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At the new chapel, called after me, I preached, and hope the word of truth was not lost. Lodged at John Turner’s.¹ Saturday at brother Holt’s.

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Great rain. Every post almost is a messenger of the tidings which ought to make me serious. John M’Claskey is no more.¹ He was a native of Ireland, born in Londonderry—a man of strong mind, a plain but useful preacher, and laboured with us about thirty years. Mother Kent is dead—forty years a subject of grace. My aged friends, Henry and Kesia Moss, have gone to their reward, but they leave me their daughter Freeman to receive me; I trust she will fill her parents’ place here, and follow them as they followed Christ. Henry Boehm sends me great accounts of the work of God at camp meetings.

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Our conference began and continued until the 27th.¹ There were nearly one hundred characters examined and six admitted upon trial. Twelve are located. Ten elders have been ordained, and twenty-two deacons; eighty-two preachers have been stationed: none are dead, and none have been expelled. I preached at the ordinations, but with so feeble a voice that many did not hear: I had coughed much and expectorated blood. We had great peace, union, and love in our session. Wednesday, we rode to Sparta in the afternoon. Thursday, we had crowded lodging, and I passed a painful night. Friday, to Sweet Water. Saturday, to Augusta.

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