As he now went from house to house, and neighborhood, to plant the cause of Christ, his zeal knew no bounds. His heart was all aglow with his new-born knowledge of the truth, and with tireless effort he sought to win men to respect and obey the simple claims of the Gospel. So intense was his desire that he scarcely allowed himself time to eat and sleep. After a busy day he would often spend a greater part of the night answering questions or meeting objections which his public discourses had aroused, or in helping some half-persuaded inquirer to a full acceptance of the Gospel; often going the same hour of the night to some near-by stream to administer baptism, when a surrender had been made. Or, if at home, the burden that was upon his heart, and his thirst for the knowledge of the Word of God, would often interfere with his sleep, and he would arise and light his candle at midnight “to examine some word or text not yet understood, and which, perhaps, had confused him in his dreams.” The preaching of John Smith, so different from that of the times, so far removed from the conventional forms, and so new and strange in doctrine, at once awakened new interest in languishing churches. Calls now came to him from so many quarters that he seldom had an opportunity to enjoy the fellowship of his family, to which he was warmly attached. He endeavored, if possible, to visit his home once a week; but this purpose he was not always able to accomplish. “He would tarry at some distant place, preaching and baptizing till the week was nearly gone, and then, dismissing the people at a late hour, ride hurriedly through the darkness, sometimes through mud and cold and tempest, in order to keep his promise with his wife. At other times, when going from one part of the district to another, he would pass along by his own house, but, too much hurried to stop and rest, would linger a while at the gate, and, gathering strength from her words of cheer, press on to his distant appointment.” On one occasion, as he thus hurried from one appointment to another, he stopped at home just long enough to change his soiled linen for clean. As he was about to leave his wife remarked with a touch of sadness in her tone, “Is it not time that you were having your washing done somewhere else? We have attended to it for you a long time.” “No, Nancy, I am pleased with your way of doing things, and I do not wish to make any change.” After a kind good-bye to her and a few playful words to the little ones, he passed on to meet the congregation that would wait for him that day in some young convert’s house, or perhaps, in some hospitable grove.