Wesley's Conference met in 1769 in Leeds. Mr. Wesley put the question: "We have a pressing call from our brethren in New York, who have built a preaching house, to come over and help them. Who is willing to go?" When was ever such a question asked, or call made, and Methodist preachers not ready to respond, "Here I am, send me"? An answer came from Richard Boardman and Joseph Pilmore, who were willing to face the perils of sea and land to "save the wandering souls of men." The Conference took a collection of twenty pounds to pay their passage, and fifty pounds toward paying the debt on the "preaching house," as an expression of their love for the American brethren. Before these godly men had reached our shores Captain Webb, late from England, and barracks master at Albany, had heard of the work in New York, and, being a local preacher among the Wesleyans, joined Embury and his company and preached to the people in his military regimentals, full of faith and power--preached with a zeal which attracted hundreds to the Methodist faith. On the arrival of Boardman and Pilmore--men of God--the work prospered. Boardman preached in New York, extending his labors as far east as Boston. Pilmore went to Philadelphia, but extended his labors south as far as Charleston, S. C. The ministry of these holy men was greatly blessed to the people, and new societies were formed as the work extended. Two years later Wesley made another call, and a response came from Francis Asbury and Richard Wright. And never did Providence seem to overrule in a more manifest manner than in the selection of Mr. Asbury. But for him it does not seem that one vestige of Methodism would have survived the War of the Revolution. He navigated the Methodist ship through that fearful storm with consummate skill. It is true that he was arrested and fined twenty-five dollars for preaching, but he held his place. He was obliged to seek shelter in the hospitable home of Hon. Thomas White, of Delaware, where he remained, partly concealed, for nearly two years. The military authorities then discovered that he was a friend and not a foe to American independence, and he was thereafter allowed to exercise his ministry without annoyance. No peril could deter him from his purpose. "In passing through the Indian country, west of the mountains," he is said to have "often encamped in the wilderness, where no one ventured to sleep except under the protection of a trustworthy sentinel." He possessed the zeal, industry, and patience of an apostle. He may truly be said to be the father of American Methodism. He lived in the affections of a grateful people and walked in the constant light of perfect love.