I then went to that famous house where the first sermon was preached in Dorchester County by Freeborn Garrettson, where the widow of Squire Airey resided. The old squire was dead and gone. By his position and character he was enabled to do noble service for Methodism, and he deserves a conspicuous place in the gallery of portraits of the distinguished laymen of the early Methodist Church in America. His widow still lived in the old homestead, and the itinerant ministers were made as welcome as when he was alive. She lived but a short distance from Mr. Ennalls. In family prayer we had a gracious time. The Holy Ghost descended in copious effusions, and the widow was so baptized she shouted aloud for joy and was greatly strengthened and encouraged. I retired to my couch feeling that my soul was resting in God. It was in the month of March, and the snow had mantled the earth with its sheet of white. I went to sleep sweetly and had a most singular dream. I have never attached much importance to dreams, but this was so strange that I will relate it; it will do no harm if it does no good. I dreamed of seeing a large field of wheat, ripe, waving before the wind, ready for the sickle, and the reapers were cutting it down and binding up the golden sheaves. And there was a large field of green wheat, so extensive I saw no end. This beautiful dream was a benefit to me; the idea of such scenery at that time of the year, when the snow was on the ground, caused me to rejoice, and the rejoicing to awake, and lo, it was but a dream. I concluded this dream could not have come from an evil source, otherwise I could not have been in such a happy state of mind; and if it was from a good source, it was for some good purpose, and accordingly I thanked God and took courage, and “went forth weeping, bearing precious seed,” not doubting that I should “come again with rejoicing, bringing my sheaves with me.” We had a number of appointments on Dorchester circuit. I have preserved the names of all the classes and of all the members, both colored and white, and of those who died during the year, and of those who married out of the society, and all who were expelled. The record is singular; it would be still more so if we knew the destiny of each of the persons whose name is recorded; but they are all written in God’s book. Most of them, no doubt, are in their graves. A prominent appointment was Cambridge. It was here that the noble Garrettson was imprisoned. But the days of persecution were passed, and Methodism was respected. Here resided Dr. Edward White, who helped give tone and character to Methodism. Among the names I find on the class-book in Cambridge are Dr. Edward White, Mary Ann White, his wife, and Eliza White, Sarah White, and Mary White, his three daughters.