But this was not her only method of doubling her diligence. Her experience and wisdom brought her many inquirers after the truth, and demands upon her conversational powers were many and imperative. Yet those busy, provident hands, long acquainted with needles, seemed to make them fly and click in about even race, with the mind and the tongue, "Diligence in business," "singing with grace in the heart," and "conversation seasoned with grace" mingled in her methods of "redeeming the time." PART III. _RETIREMENT_. * * * * * CHAPTER I. HOMES OF EARLY METHODISTS. From the earthly point of observation how sad is the breaking up of Christian homes! The genuinely hospitable homes of the early Methodists were peculiar. There were elements in their hospitality which do not quite find their equal in our day. The old circuit system set everything in motion. Not only were the "circuit riders" circulating everywhere, but quarterly meetings, "two days' meetings," and even regular circuit preaching, whether on a week day or Sunday, stirred up the people. And as they were scattered in residence, and traveling was slow, every comfortable, hospitable Methodist residence became not only a free stopping place, but a house of entertainment, where both soul and body found refreshment, and the one just as free and cordial as the other. The guest did not embarrass the host or hostess, for nothing but plain fare was expected; and as to spiritual refreshment, he left a blessing behind him, and with rekindled joy went on his way rejoicing. So also it was when his turn came to entertain. The homes of the early Methodists, especially in the country and in the rural villages, were much more permanent than in this day--not rented, but mostly owned by their occupants--and every year seemed to add to the sacredness of these hospitable old abodes. The trees, the watering trough, the well sweep, the plain old buildings, the very ground, seemed consecrated to God and his cause. But the kind host and hostess "have finished their course" and been called up higher. The honored old place is honorable no longer. The tenants or new owners, or, worse still, ungodly children, have desecrated everything. The old-time guests pass it with a sigh. The hill, the brook are there, but the aged horse looks in vain for the welcome open gate and watering place, and, drooping his head, walks slowly by in sadness. Ministers and church people tread that yard no more. The very ground seems backslidden. Sabbaths have fled. Prayers and praises are no longer echoed. That light is put out, and "how great is that darkness!" The time came for Joshua and Elizabeth to yield to infirmity, and retire from active life. The hard work of the new country told seriously upon even strong constitutions. Some of the members of their society older, and some even younger, than themselves had yielded and gone.