In coming north with Bishop Asbury in 1810, at the south of Washington we met John Randolph, that peculiar genius and unequaled orator of Roanoke. He was riding, and had his dogs with him in the carriage. He always thought much of his dogs, and took them with him to Washington. His complexion was very dark, and his eyes were black. On Saturday, February 24, we reached Baltimore, and put up with Sister Dickins. Then I went to see my father, and he went with me to the Baltimore Conference. He loved to attend the conference, and wished another interview with his life-time friends, Bishops Asbury and Otterbein. On Lord’s day I heard my aged father preach in Otterbein’s Church from 1 Cor. iv, 20, “For the kingdom of God is not in word,” etc. Of course it was in German. At three o’clock my colleague, Jacob Gruber, preached in Otterbein’s Church, from John v, 25, on the spiritual resurrection. It was a lovely sight to behold the venerable Otterbein, my aged father, and Newcomber, all together worshiping in such delightful harmony. On Wednesday evening I preached at Otterbein’s Church, on Matt. xi, 28, 29, in my mother tongue. My father concluded with an impressive exhortation and prayer. This was my father’s last visit to Baltimore, his last interview with Otterbein, and the last time he ever attended an annual conference. Twelve were received on trial at this conference; among them John Davis, long an ornament to the Baltimore Conference and a pillar in the temple of Methodism; and John W. Bond, the last traveling companion of Bishop Asbury. Among the elders ordained were Gerard Morgan, (father of N. J. B. and L. F. Morgan,) Job Guest, and Alfred Griffith, who has recently retired from the work. The bishop wrote thus: “If we want plenty of good eating and new suits of clothes, let us come to Baltimore; but we want souls.”[27] This will give an idea of our entertainment in Baltimore. The conference adjourned on Saturday, March 17, and Bishops Asbury and M’Kendree, and my father and Thomas Lasley, immediately left for Perry Hall, where Sister Gough treated us with the usual kindness. On Monday we rode to Henry Watters’s at Deer Creek. He was seventy-two years old when we were there. He was a brother of William Watters, and in this house William was born and converted. One of the earliest Methodist churches in Maryland was erected on the farm of Henry Watters. It was in this chapel the famous conference was held in 1777,[28] when the English preachers, with the exception of Mr. Asbury, gave up the field, and returned to their native country. The old homestead is still in possession of the family of Henry Watters, Esq., the oldest son. He is a class-leader in the Church. What imperishable memories cluster around the sweet rural mansion where Pilmoor and Boardman, Coke and Asbury, so often lodged and prayed![29]