by a colony
of Yankees. At the time of my appointment I had never seen a Yankee, and
I had heard dismal stories about them. It was said they lived almost
entirely on pumpkins, molasses, fat meat, and bohea tea; moreover, that
they could not bear loud and zealous sermons, and they had brought on
their learned preachers with them, and they read their sermons and were
always criticising us poor backwoods preachers. When my appointment was
read out it distressed me greatly. I went to Bishop Asbury and begged
him to supply my place and let me go home. The old father took me in
his arms and said: 'O, no, my son; go in the name of the Lord. It will
make a man of you.'

"Ah, thought I, if this is the way to make men, I do not want to be a
man. I cried over it bitterly, and prayed, too. But on I started,
cheered by my presiding elder, Brother J. Sale. If I ever saw hard
times, surely it was this year; yet many of the people were kind and
treated me friendly. I had hard work to keep soul and body together. The
first Methodist house I came to the brother was a Universalist. I
crossed over the Muskingum River to Marietta. The first Methodist family
I stopped with there, the lady was a member of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, but a thorough Universalist. She was a thin-faced, Roman-nosed,
loquacious Yankee, glib on the tongue, and you may depend upon it I had
a hard race to keep up with her, though I found it a good school, for it
set me to reading my Bible. And here permit me to say, of all the isms I
ever heard of, they were here. These descendants of the Puritans were
generally educated, but their ancestors were rigid predestinarians, and
as they were sometimes favored with a little light on their moral
powers, and could just 'see men as trees walking,' they jumped into
Deism, Universalism, Unitarianism, etc., etc. I verily believe it was
the best school I ever entered. They waked me up on all sides; Methodism
was feeble, and I had to battle or run, and I resolved on the former."

Just before he was made an elder, Mr. Cartwright left his circuit, and
went home on a visit to recruit. He had made a good fight with poverty
during his labors, and at the time of his departure for home he was in a
condition sufficiently hard to test any man's fortitude. "I had been
from my father's house for three years," says he; "was five hundred
miles from home, my horse had gone blind, my saddle was worn out, my
bridle reins had been eaten up an