As was most natural, my parents immediately connected themselves with the church of their choice in their new home. The little band composing the Methodist Episcopal church, which answered to the Wesleyan they had left at home, had at that time no church edifice and were holding Sabbath services in the schoolhouses, mostly at West Weatogue, about a mile from our house. I well remember pleasant Sabbath morning walks down the village street, through the "River Lane," bordered by a tall row of Normandy poplars, over the bridge and by the sheep-fold of Squire Owen Pettibone at the corner, where we were allowed, much to our delight, to stop to look at the young lambs with their soft white coats and bright eyes. I remember, too, the weekly evening prayer-meetings held at our own schoolhouse at "early candle-light," when lamps and chairs were brought in by the neighbors, and the simple service, generally conducted by my father, was often as "the house of God and the gate of heaven" to the earnest worshippers. It sometimes happened in the spring-time, when the swollen river flooded the meadows and made the roads along its banks impassable, that the brook which crossed our street was raised to a small river, and the street could be crossed only by boats. When this occurred on a Sabbath the young men would bring a boat, and to our great delight we were rowed over, and the neighbors gathered at the schoolhouse for a Sabbath service at which my father preached. His talents as a preacher and religious leader were soon perceived and appreciated by the people, and his services were in much demand. It is said that he preached in the schoolhouse at West Weatogue on the evening after his arrival in Simsbury. In those early days he preached frequently, supplying every alternate Sabbath for many of the weaker churches in the vicinity which could not afford a regular pastor. He preached in this way at North Canton, Granby, Bloomfield, Washington Hill, Newfield, Burlington, and many other places. He would often start off on Saturday afternoon for a drive of ten or fifteen miles, leaving his little family to get to church on Sunday as best they could. In cold weather he would wrap himself in his long cloak brought over from England, and with the faithful white horse, go forth to wrestle with the wintry winds and snows, often not returning till Monday. In 1840 the Methodist Episcopal church edifice was built, on land donated by Squire Ensign, a Congregationalist. My father, J. O. Phelps, Esquire, and Mr. Edward C. Vining were appointed building-committee. Through their earnest efforts, it was finally located at Hopmeadow, in spite of strong opposition from some of the most influential members, who resided at "Cases' Farms," now West Simsbury, and who favored its erection there. It was said of my father by his pastor, Rev. I. Simmons, "He was one of the most efficient workers and liberal givers in the erection of the