Brother Moul was an earnest worker in the Master's vineyard, generous in his contributions to support the Gospel, and eminently faithful to every trust committed to his keeping. At the end of twenty years, I made a visit to Mill Creek. I found Brother Moul had erected a fine house and was living in manifest comfort; but he retained a vivid recollection of the early days and their sacrifices. Two relics remained, both in a fair state of preservation, which he took great pleasure in showing to me. The first was the old class book that I had given him at the time of the organization of the class. It was a single sheet of foolscap paper, folded together in book form, and stitched. The names upon it were mostly in my own handwriting, and the Leader had carefully made his weekly entries of present and absent, until the pages were filled. The other object of interest was the old house, in which the first meetings were held. Here we had seen remarkable displays of Divine power. And as I now looked upon the old structure, the early scenes seemed to return. I could again see the wide room, filled with rude seats, Brother Moul at the door as usher, the crowds of people that thronged the place, the groups of seekers at the mourners' bench, and the lines of happy faces that were aglow with hallowed expressions of delight. I could again hear the songs of praise as they rang out in the olden time, full and sweet, filling the place with rarest melody. Nay, as I held communion with the past, I seemed to feel the hallowed influences, that pervaded the early worshippers, breathing through all my being, as of old, and even fancy myself young again, and standing before the multitude as an ambassador of the Master. But the scene, like the visions of the night, soon disappeared, and I turned sadly away, half regretting that I was no longer a pioneer, and permitted to feed the hungry sheep in the wilderness. Brother David Boynton, at this writing, remains on the old farm, which has been growing with the passing decades, until the paternal acres have become a large estate. Situated on a prominent highway, his house, until the days of railroads, was the stopping place of all the preachers who needed entertainment at either noon or night. Brother Boynton, in the person of his son, Rev. J.T. Boynton, of the Wisconsin Conference, has given to the Itinerant work, an efficient laborer.