On Wednesday the bishop preached in the school-house on a bluff opposite Blennerhassett’s Island. I saw the beautiful island where Harman Blennerhassett and his beautiful wife dwelt in most surpassing loveliness, till a blight came over this terrestrial Eden and destroyed it. The reader must be familiar with the melancholy history of this most unfortunate family. On Tuesday we crossed the Ohio into Belpre, and put up at Mr. Browning’s. The lady of the house, who was from Old Connecticut, was delighted in entertaining a Methodist bishop. She conversed with him readily, and lamented the destitution of the West in regard to able preachers, and spoke of the elegant meeting-houses, pews, organs, singing, and the charming preachers of the East. “O bishop,” said she, “you can’t tell!” The bishop, delighted with her enthusiastic descriptions, exclaimed, “O yes, yes, Old Connecticut for all the world! “A fine house and a high steeple, A learned priest and a gay people.” After considerable further conversation she inquired, “Bishop, where do you live?” With the utmost solemnity, and with a countenance and tone that showed the deep emotion of his soul, he replied, “No foot of land do I possess, No cottage in the wilderness, A poor wayfaring man.” The bishop preached in Belpre school-house from Luke xix, 10. Colonel Putnam, son of Israel Putnam, who bearded the wolf in his den, and who also bearded the British lion, invited the bishop, Brother Quin, and myself to the house of Mr. Waldo, grandson of the old veteran. We had a hearty welcome and were treated like princes. In the evening six or eight gentlemen, revolutionary officers, with their ladies, were invited in, and we spent a most agreeable evening. The conversation was very entertaining and instructing, and the bishop took a very active part in it. But he would often manage to give the conversation a religious turn, to which the company would bow assent. The bishop prayed before the company retired. We lodged that night in a splendid ball-room. “Here,” said the bishop, as he kneeled down, “they used to worship the devil; let us worship God.” Early next morning we bade adieu to our polite host and were on our way to Athens, and on Thursday we arrived at the camp-meeting near that town. We had now traveled five hundred and forty-two miles since we left my father’s, and three thousand four hundred and sixty-seven miles since we left Charleston. Much good was done at this camp-meeting. We had four sermons on Sunday, Bishop Asbury preaching twice. I preached in German.