"Sir, I beseech you, in the name of Jesus Christ, to entertain us as servants of the living God. We are ministers of the gospel, we travel without purse or scrip; we preach without hire, and are now without money; we are wet, weary, and hungry; we want refreshment, rest, and shelter."
The man sprang to his feet, but did not say a word. His wife said:
"Tell them to come in."
"We will do you no harm; we are friends, not enemies," I said.
We were invited in. Servants were called, a good fire was made and a warm supper placed before us. After eating we were shown to a good bed. We slept until near ten o'clock in the morning. When we did awaken our clothes were clean and dry, and breakfast was ready and waiting for us. In fact, we were as well treated as it was possible to ask.
This family had lately come from the State of Virginia, intending to try that climate for a year, and then, if they liked it, purchase land and stay there permanently. After breakfast the gentleman said:
"You had a severe time of it among the Christians yesterday and last night. As you are ministers, sent out to convert sinners, you cannot do better than to preach to these Christians, and seek to convert them."
He offered to send word all over the settlement and notify the people, if we would stay and preach that night. We accepted his offer, and remained, thus securing the rest that we so much needed, thanking God for still remembering and caring for us, His servants.
Agreeably to arrangements, we preached in the Methodist meeting- house to a very attentive audience upon the first principles of the gospel. We alluded to the treatment of Christ and His followers by the Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious sects of those days, and said that we preached the same gospel, and fared but little better. This meeting-house had been built conjointly by Methodists and Universalists. Members from both persuasions were present. Our neighbor who had fed and cared for us leaned to the latter faith.
At the close of our remarks the class leader who had set the hounds on our track was the first to the stand to invite us home with him. I told him that the claims of those who did not set their dogs on us, after they had turned us from their doors hungry, were first with me - that his claims were an after consideration. He said it was his negro boys that sent the hounds after us; he would not be bluffed. He said that one of us must go with him - that if I would not go Brother Frank must go. I told him that Elder Edwards could use his own pleasure, but I would hold a meeting that night with our Universalist brethren; and thus we parted.