Thus was God’s special providence made manifest in this fearfully alarming time of pestilence and death. Some two hundred thousand left the city in fearful alarm and dismay. At another appointment where our people were very poor and very much scattered, a rich man was saved and joined the feeble band. He agreed that if conference would let me stay with the poorest part of the circuit the second year, he would support the work, if it cost a thousand dollars, and beside, he would build a church for the pilgrims. This, doubtless he would have done, had he lived. He died soon after conference, having paid but one hundred dollars, leaving us to trust alone in God for our support. The house that we occupied was sold so that we were compelled to find another. There was just one house to be rented in the place for six months, the balance of the conference year, and this was owned by a hard-fisted landlord, and he wanted his rent monthly in advance. What could I do? I had nowhere to look for help, but to God alone. I must have a house, and get out of the one I then occupied, or be turned into the street. What a dilemma! How it would look to have a Free Methodist preacher, with wife and children, as good as ever graced the earth, turned into the street, because _why_? I seemed to be forced to bargain for the house, and agree to pay monthly in advance. The price was eight dollars per month. These were days of sore trial and anxious care. Much time we spent on our knees with strong crying and tears before God for the salvation of souls, food and shelter. Three days before we were to make our first payment, just the amount came, and we secured the house. Money came so that we were able to pay our rent always on time, and with two exceptions, it came three days before time. This has not always been the case, when we have trusted in boards, official or otherwise. But when we have been shut up alone with God, we have fed on the good of the land--the finest of wheat, with honey out of the Rock.
A few years later on, we were shut up for trust, to a large official board. They managed the parsonage, or hired one, and were responsible for the rent, and we supposed that everything was moving along grandly--when one morning I was called out by an officer of the law, and then he read a paper stating that three months rent was due, and unless it was paid immediately, I was to be thrown into the street, kit and cargo. This hard-hearted landlord said to me when the bargain was made for the house, “the garden is good for nothing.” It was a large one, but it had not been worked in ten years; it had grown up to weeds and thistles, year after year, so I need not expect anything from that source.” I thought, how bad it would look to have the preacher’s back yard covered with weeds and thistles. I made up my mind that I would not let the weeds grow. I would have it plowed and worked--if no more. After it was plowed, I was impressed to plant it, which I did. I spent quite a little time in working my garden. The Lord wonderfully blessed it, so that it was the best in the place. I worked it with hoe and axe. This I had to do right after it had rained. I made up my mind that my field could be made fruitful if well worked, with God’s blessing. I have often heard it said that such places were so hard, that nothing could be done. They meant Spiritually. All such expressions indicate a small amount of faith. They seem to forget that “_all things are possible with God_,” “_and to him that believeth_.”