Monday, March 25, 1878. As several of the Welsh Saints had written asking me to spend a Sabbath with them, I got leave of a week's absence from President Jacobs and crossed the Bristol channel on the steamer Wye. I visited Brother Harris at Cardiff, and held meeting. Wednesday, the 27th, I also visited D. R. Gill. That day a collier was killed by the falling of a stone in a mine where several of the Saints are working. Poor fellows, spending their lives toiling down in the dark, foul pits, with blocks of death hanging over their heads! Hundreds die yearly, as this man died. In the morning the goodby is cheerfully spoken, for no shadow of death looms forward as a warning; at sunset the block has fallen, and the dying man is borne by his comrades to the heart-broken wife. The next day he is buried, and soon forgotten by all save those to whom his strong arm brought daily bread. On the 28th I visited Brother Jenkin Thomas, A. J. Jones, and Brother Edwin Street. The latter is still confined to his bed, suffering from the effects of the terrible bruises he received in a coal pit two years, ago; but he keeps in good spirits and is firm in the faith. I held meeting in his house, that he might hear the service. The room was crowded, many strangers being present. On Monday, the 30th, I visited Richard Wadley, gentleman, on his farm twelve miles from Cardiff, to help him in his work. I plowed while he sowed grain. This pleased him so much that he hitched his "cob" into the cart and drove me to his home in Cardiff. I spent the evening with the family, preaching the Gospel to them. Under this date, I wrote to an enquirer, not in the Church: "I know the idea generally prevails, that a man can love but one wife at a time; but a careful reading of the word of God forces the conviction that the idea is wrong; and my own experience confirms this view. I find in the scriptures of divine truth, that we are commanded to love the Lord with all our heart, and to love our neighbor as ourselves; what a terrible tax to place upon a man who can only love one wife! I am thankful to say that I have learned to govern love by principle; and I can truly say, that the bright and intelligent sons and daughters born to me by different wives, are alike beloved, and dear to me." On Wednesday, April 3, 1878, I returned to Bristol, and received the following letter from my wife Lydia: "Dear Husband: The day's work is done, the children are sweetly sleeping, and the nine o'clock bugle (curfew) is sounding, 'Hard times, come again no more!' "If I knew hard times would come no more to you, while you are in that land of poverty and wretchedness, I should be very thankful. I have been treated with much kindness by the brethren and sisters here in Orderville. Neither I, nor mine, have suffered for food or clothing.