the roots. My feet and legs were wet and cold, but by the mercy of God I arrived 
     
     safely at the end of my journey. On the next day, Mr. Meggison promised two 
     
     canoes to take my horse across the river, but we found it impossible to get the 
     
     horse into them, and after two hours of fruitless toil, we had to make him swim 
     
     over. On the other side, I rode towards the main road, but sometimes I had to 
     
     keep in shore, at other times to keep out several yards in the water, to avoid 
     
     bogs. In order to get to one of my appointments, I had to pass three miles 
     
     through a path in the woods. Two friends went with me with an axe, and 
     
     sometimes cut a tree out of the way, which obstructed the road. I followed, 
     
     leading the horse the greater part of the way, as I did not consider it safe to ride. 
     
     After we had walked some distance on dry ground, the road not being blocked 
     
     up by wind-falls, one of my companions remarked, ‘This is a proper road,’ 
     
     where I suppose to get through with a carriage would be impossible. To ride on 
     
     horseback appeared dangerous, and a person walking must be particularly careful 
     
     in some places, or he would be half way to the knees in mud and water, and yet 
     
     this ’is a proper road’. At another time he says, ‘I left home for Kildare about 
     
     noon; on the way my horse fell among the roots in the portage, and threw me 
     
     over his head; but I received no bodily hurt.’ 
     
    
   
   
    
     On July 15, 1845, we removed into our new habitation. It is but a humble 
     
     cot; but I dare not murmur. The great missionary, Paul, had no certain dwelling- 
     
     place, but we have, and with the love of Christ in our hearts, we can live here 
     
    
   
   
    
     comfortably. 
     
    
   
   
    
     My last circuit round in July was a very encouraging one. I experienced the 
     
     burning influences of the Holy Ghost in my own breast, and I would not part 
     
     with the confidence I have in Christ for all the fading toys of earth. While I 
     
     write, the precious seasons I have enjoyed among my beloved friends at home are 
     
     quite fresh in my mind. I thought, during the time the Conference was sitting, I 
     
     would gladly take a long journey through Prince Edward Island roads, if I could 
     
     have the privilege to be with the Conference one day. The preachers are a body 
     
     of men I sincerely love, and there are many among my senior brethren in the 
     
     ministry I very much esteem. I have frequently been profited by their counsel, 
     
     but as my lot is cast in America, and the Atlantic Ocean rolls between us, several 
     
     Annual Conferences must pass away before I can expect to see my dear brethren 
     
     again. Blessed be God, I feel resigned to His will, and am resolved to pray and 
     
     labour on till my work on earth is done.’ 
     
    
   
   
    
     In the following February, the society at Lot 7, under the leadership of Rev. 
     
     William Harris, resolved to ‘lay aside their worldly affairs, and devote a week to 
     
     the all important business of eternity! There were preaching services twice every 
     
     day: at 10:30 A.M., and 5:00 P.M. James Kinley, Lidstone, Fish, Dalton, and 
     
     James Grigg were his helpers in preaching and exhortation. Showers of divine 
     
     grace were experienced; hearts were cheered, and hands strengthened. In one of 
     
     these services the friends prayed heartily; the Lord worked powerfully; sinners 
     
     were constrained to pray for mercy; mercy was realized; salvation obtained; five 
     
     persons were enabled to rejoice. The Lord turned their captivity, and they were 
     
    
   
   
    
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