E. C. continued to travel for a few succeeding years after leaving Saratoga circuit, and was exceedingly popular wherever he went. But in those days we had no "garden spots," as stations, except in a few of the larger cities. Our circuits were extensive, and the labor and suffering great, when compared with what it now is in the same territory. And though E. C. had health, and a good constitution, yet he considered the labors and privations too great to be endured. The writer has distinctly in his recollection the lecture or advice given him by the same E. C. when he first mounted his horse with his portmanteau under him to commence the work of

an itinerant preacher. The interview was on the highway where we happened to meet on horseback, and was closed by E. C. saying, "The itinerant life is a good school, but it is a severe one you have but a gloomy prospect before you for the present life-I think a young man in your circumstances can do better." It may well be supposed, after receiving such advice from one to whom I had formerly looked as to a father, that a gloom, at least for a time, overspread my mind as I passed onward in my solitary way. But I will here state, that after trying the itinerant life for thirty-six years, and passing over some of the rough, as well as some

of the smooth paths, had I my life to live over again, I know of no employment or situation this side of heaven that I would prefer before that of an itinerant Methodist preacher, though it should be in Oregon, Africa, or China.

But I will return to the history of E. C. After traveling a few years, he located and entered into the mercantile business, and, as was the custom of the times, sold, with other commodities, spirituous liquors. But it was not long before he learned, or professed to have learned, that a glass of brandy was an excellent thing to give an appetite for his meals. But his discoveries did not end in this; he found, as he professed, that a glass of brandy after meals was an excellent thing to promote digestion. Proceeding in this course, he soon saw that he must be liable to be arraigned by the discipline of the church. He, therefore, before any charge was preferred against him, formally withdrew from the church, soon failed in business, and got an appointment as chaplain in the army, it being in the time of our last war with Great Britain. Here he went swiftly down the declivity of intemperance; and when in 1814 the writer was stationed at Paris, and on a certain sabbath morning was proceeding to open the religious exercises of the hour, this same E. C. staggered

into the house, and threw himself into a seat near the door. But O! how wofully changed! The gentleman, the Christian, the minister, were all lost in the bloated, filthy, and brutalized drunkard. So overpowering was the sight that I was obliged to suspend the services for some time, before I could recover strength and composure sufficient to proceed. When the services were concluded, he blundered out of the house -I followed him into the street-spoke kindly to him-led him to a seat by the side of the walk-sat down with him, and threw my arms around his neck, filthy and disgusting as he was, and gave vent to my feelings in a flood of tears which could not, for a long time, be restrained. But, alas! no heart but that of a drunkard was there; my tears and entreaties only met with the reply, in a crusty voice, "Every man must be his own judge of the course he thinks proper to pursue." The remainder of this sad tale shall be briefly told. He was shortly after this visited with a paralytic stroke, and was carried from town to town, in a helpless condition, back to the place of his nativity, where he soon died without any visible token of a change of mind for the better.

NUMBER VI.

IN the summer of 1801 Zenas Covel and Alexander Morton were appointed to Saratoga circuit, and soon after their arrival a quarterly meeting was held in the north part of Johnstown, then Montgomery county, in a neighborhood called Kingsborough. And, as was the custom of those days, the brethren from abroad were entertained by the families in the vicinity of the meeting, not in pairs but by dozens. Some thirty or forty (including the writer) were on this occasion invited to the house of William Bentley. After the evening prayer meeting, the male portion of the company retired to the chamber for lodging, where what are sometimes called field-beds were prepared, being spread along upon the floor. When all had lain down, and each was probably breathing out a silent prayer, suddenly there was such a manifestation of the divine presence, that nearly, if not quite every individual in the chamber started from his pillow, and in some way gave evidence that he felt the heavenly influence that seemed to pervade the entire chamber. Bursts of praise to God broke forth, though in a gentle and subdued tone, which seemed to say, God is here.

In the love-feast, on sabbath morning, there were some shouts of praise to God, mingled with the relation of Christian experience, in which many were ready and even anxious to bear a part. In the midst of this exercise, brother Covel, our new minister, arose and stated, that in the place where he first united with the church, the practice of saying Amen, and of praising God audibly, except in singing, was very rare. That after he had commenced traveling as an itinerant preacher, he attended a love-feast, where many became, as he thought, indecently noisy, which gave him great dissatisfaction, and as soon as the love-feast closed, he retired to a grove, a short distance from the place of the meeting, and, with a heavy heart and weeping eyes, pondered upon the scene which he had just witnessed, and came to the conclusion that Methodism was ruined for ever for him that though he loved her doctrines, he could no longer remain a member of the church, and must seek a home with some other denomination, or strive to get to heaven alone. With these views and feelings, he started to get his bridle, catch his horse, and leave the meeting. But he concluded he would first kneel down and pray that God would direct him, and if he was wrong, to show him the right