In South Carolina. 381 



No passage at Clemnions's Ferry. We found a lodg- 

 ing with Mr. Brindley; our host has buried one Meth- 

 odist wife, and is now happy with another. I am con- 

 soled to know that our dear departed sister, ever kind 

 to me, died in the Lord. Tuesday evening, lodged at 

 the widow Boone's: this family have received Meth- 

 odist preachers for the last six and twenty years. 



Wednesday, 8. We reached Georgetown. I preached 

 in our enlarged chapel, on 1 Cor. vii. 29. 



Thursday, 9. We came away to James Green's, 

 where I preached, and then rode over to Francis 

 Green's; here William Capers preached on "Blessed 

 art thou, Simon Barjona," etc. We took the road on 

 Friday in a driving snow, but missing our path, we 

 got back to James Green's, and there, upon entreaty, 

 consented to stay. We were told on Saturday morn- 

 ing that we could not travel; we tried it, nevertheless, 

 and made thirty-five miles in nine hours. The cold 

 was piercing. 



Sabbath, 12. No rest for us. We toiled over Pedee 

 swamp toward Mary Port's; she had gone to rest. 

 The snow was about a foot deep, and I could not see 

 where they had laid her. We came to Mr. Newson's 

 five hours after my time, so I delivered a message to 

 the family — thirty-one miles to-day. On Monday, at 

 General Benjamin Lee's, I spoke to a few people. 

 Tuesday we dined at Lumberton, and went forward to 

 Mark Russell's, where I spoke to a few people. Wed- 

 nesday, came to Fayetteville. We have had a rude 

 ride of great bodily suffering from Georgetown, but my 

 mind has enjoyed perfect peace, and constant prayer. 



Thursday, 16. We made this a sacramental day. 

 What will not perseverance and management do? 

 Here we have built a neat little chapel, costing but 



