In South Carolina. 371 



three days about six hours a day on our private bus- 

 iness. We crossed Pacolet, Thicketty, and Broad 

 rivers, on our way to Josiah Smith's on Monday. On 

 Tuesday I preached for them, and Boelim and Hill 

 exhorted: it was a gracious season. Wednesday we 

 came through York to William Gassaway's. There 

 was heavy snow for about twelve hours. Brothei 

 Boehm preached at the dwelling-house, and I gave 

 them a sermon in the chapel. On Friday we took the 

 road to Waxhaws, and with some difficulty kept the 

 path, and the horses their feet. In about nine hours 

 we made our way, crossed Lenham's Ferry, and came 

 in to Robert Hancock's, stiff and chilled. O for pa 

 tience and courage! 



On Saturday we attended a small congregation of 

 thirty souls. 



Sunday, 26. At the Waxhaws Chapel I preached 

 to four hundred souls. An exhortation followed, and 

 the sacrament. Monday, a cold ride to William 

 Heath's, on Fishing Creek. I met a congregation on 

 Tuesday, in a log-cabin, scarcely fit for a stable. To 

 my surprise, a number of United States' officers came 

 up; I invited them in. These gentlemen are attached 

 to an establishment at Rocky Mount; they behaved 

 with all the propriety I expected of them. Wednes- 

 day brought us where a sermon was expected, and I 

 gave them one. I made an acquaintance with a ven- 

 erable pair — Mr. Buchanan and wife, Presbyterians, 

 and happy in the experience of religion. A brick 

 chapel is building at Winnsborough for the Meth- 

 odists. We lodged at William Lewis's, but late emerg- 

 ing into light. On Thursday we had a chilly ride of 

 twenty-five miles to Mr. Watson's. It rained excess- 

 ively on Friday, yet I visited James Jenkins, and 



