I took occasion to lecture him for telling slanderous tales about the living or the dead on mere hearsay. Mr. Taylor took me to Richmond, where I spoke twice. Two men came to me at the close of one of the meetings; their hearts were full. They thanked God that the scales had fallen from their eyes, and that they beheld the gospel in all its heavenly beauty. I also preached in Paris, Flemingsburg, and many other places in Kentucky. In one place, I remember that in the middle of a sermon I had a hard ague chill, and had to stop half an hour, when I resumed my discourse.

The new meeting-house in Patriot, Ind., was to be dedicated, and a large party of Cincinnatians employed a boat to take them down and back. It was a delightful excursion. We had music and dancing, talking and promenading. George Rogers and E. M. Pingree were of the party—both are now in heaven, I trust. We three did the preaching. J. L. Johnson was installed pastor of the church. He had been a Methodist, his faith was now enlarged, but he retained many of his old notions, and all his Orthodox phraseology, and consequently he had poor success. He soon left us and returned to his mother church. About this time I attended a discussion in New Richmond, Ohio, between Robert Smith, and a Mr. Fisher, a Methodist layman. Mr. F. was an able man, and better qualified to defend his cause than three fourths of the preachers of his order. Both being strong men, the discussion was very interesting. Daniel Parker resided there, and had long been in the ministry. He called himself a Restorationist, and would not associate with Universalists. I suppose his views corresponded with those of Elhanan Winchester. He was a disorganizer, would not form societies, but was a very sincere, devout and good man. He preached one evening, and in the midst of his sermon he buried his face in his hands, and wept like a child. I recollect that he said in his sermon, that he had never believed in Universalism one minute in all his life. In his old age, I have understood, he joined the Baptist church.

My health continued feeble, not having recovered from the ague engendered in the South, but it did not confine me in-doors a day. I had a slight chill every day, succeeded by an inward fever, which kept me in a debilitated condition. Occasionally though I had a violent shake. Often when riding, I would have an attack of the ague, when I would stop two or three hours, and then resume my journey. I took all sorts of medicines, but nothing did me any good. It finally occurred to me that breakfast might have some connection with my ague, as it returned every morning soon after eating. I refrained from partaking of breakfast for a week, and the ague did not trouble me. Two or three times afterwards my morning ague returned, but abstaining from breakfast always prevented a relapse. I was soon entirely free from it, and since then, with the exception of two attacks of bilious fever, one in St. Louis, and one in Chicago, brought on in both cases by walking and riding in the blazing sun, and preaching too much, I have enjoyed perfect health. I certainly have reason to be thankful for the good health I have enjoyed, and for innumerable other blessings, temporal and spiritual.

CHAPTER VI.

A Journey East—Talk with a Baptist Minister—Preached in Delaware and Centerville, Ohio—W. Y. Emmett—Doors Closed—A. Bond—A. B. Grosh—In New England—On the Sea—A Storm—Methodist Preacher Frightened—Blow the Trumpet—In Philadelphia—In Delaware—In Pittsburg—Returned to Cincinnati—Go to Chicago—Bad Roads—In Richmond—Talk with a Quaker—A Spirit Returns to Earth—A Spirit Out of the Body—A Strange Sight—Preach in God’s Temple—Preach in Chicago—Preach in Joliet—Aaron Kinney, an Early Preacher—Bill of Fare—Hard Luck in Magnolia—Why Preach—In Hennepin—Political Humbugs—Opposition in Washington—Justice of God—In Pekin and Tremont—Frozen—A Preacher Replies.

George Rogers had traveled in the Southern states, and was urged either to return or send some one to preach to the people. He could not go, and at his solicitation, I consented to journey in Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, North and South Carolina; and from thence I purposed going by sea to Boston, Mass. February, 1840, with horse and buggy, I started from Cincinnati on what I expected would be a long and hard journey, through a thinly settled region, and among strangers. Crossed the Ohio river, and traveled about ten miles on a splendid pike. But at the end of the pike the sublime and ridiculous joined hands. Horse and buggy plunged from the hard, dry and smooth road into an ocean of mud and water. This enlightened me concerning the condition of the roads generally, and after floundering in the mud awhile, I succeeded in getting back to dry land, and returned to Cincinnati, and abandoned my contemplated southern journey.

I then resolved to go East through Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and Massachusetts, and in a few days after I recrossed the Ohio river, I was on my way, on horseback, to the noted city of Boston. I performed the whole journey, about one thousand miles, on horseback, and it occupied six weeks. I went East to visit my mother, and hurried through as fast as possible. But I could not travel very fast, as the roads were in a bad condition, and the weather was often stormy. Preached in Woodstock, to large assemblies. Spent three days very pleasantly in visiting kind friends, and in talking to the people. A society was subsequently formed and a meeting-house erected. Cyrus F. Wait, then a youth, attended my meetings. He soon after commenced preaching, and labored faithfully in the ministry till 1865, when he laid down his armor and ascended to his God. He lived and labored in Woodstock most of the time he was in the ministry, was an efficient preacher and an excellent man. I delivered several sermons in Delaware, and had the following conversation with a Baptist clergyman:

“You preached in town last night, did you?”

“Yes.”

“If you are right, I cannot be wrong.”