For a week there is no record made in his journal. He was unable to write a line. But I kept an account of each day. After filling several appointments during the week, I went to Pittsburgh to fill the appointment of the bishop there. I lodged at Brother Wrenshall’s, a local preacher. He was an Englishman, of excellent education and fine mind. He preached a great deal, and preached well, and helped give tone and character to Methodism in that section. There were few Methodists in Pittsburgh, and they had no house of worship, so I preached in the Court-house to about a thousand people who had come out to hear the bishop and saw but a plain German youth from their own State. They listened with attention while I expounded Matt. v, 20. In the afternoon I preached in the jury-room, in German, to one hundred hearers, from Acts x, 35. Some felt the weight of truth. Thus for the benefit of the Germans in Pittsburgh I preached the Gospel in their own vernacular fifty-seven years ago. Then, at six o’clock, in Brother Wrenshall’s door-yard, I preached “deliverance to the captives.” This was my first visit to Pittsburgh, a place so full of historic interest. And here, for the first time, I beheld the Ohio. In after years I became very familiar with it by crossing it so frequently with the pioneer bishop. Leaving Pittsburgh, I returned to see how the bishop was getting on. I was accompanied by Betsy Farley and her son-in-law. She was the daughter of Edward Bailey, an excellent man, and one of Bishop Asbury’s traveling companions. He died in October 1780, when on a tour with the bishop, and here, eighteen years afterward, was one of his daughters traveling many miles to see the bishop to converse with him about her father. On Tuesday we reached Brother Brightwell’s, the bishop’s host, and to our great joy we found him much better. Mr. Asbury makes this entry: “How am I honored! Thornton Fleming paid me a visit, and with him came Mrs. Hebert and a daughter of Edward Bailey of Amherst, Virginia. These dear souls came sixty miles to see me. I suppose I must get a four-wheeled carriage. Wednesday was a serious day, but prepare to move we must; pain and death are nothing when opposed to duty.” This is a noble sentiment of a noble man. I wrote thus in my journal: “Thursday, 28, past human expectation we started for West Liberty, crossed the Monongahela at Freeport, then to Mr. Thomas M’Faddin’s, Washington, a little before night, very wet on my part and very full of pain on the part of Father Asbury. The family were exceeding kind.” Is it not marvelous that the old sick man should travel in the rain under such circumstances? What but love for the Church and for souls could have induced him?