and as I could neither preach in Tennessee nor Mississippi without endangering my life, I felt a strong inclination to make the change. After much prayer and meditation my mind was made up, and I thank God yet for the decision.

CHAPTER III.

THE WILDERNESS SHALL BLOSSOM AS THE ROSE.-1836.

ONE can tell, except a husband and father who has experienced the emotion, the feelings with which I mounted my animal, that I hoped would carry me to my loved ones in the east. On the tenth day of January, 1836, Deacon Hunt and the writer were homeward bound." In the evening we were back at brother Webb's. Near the place where Wheelock is now located we found a garden full of vegetables, presenting more the appearance of spring than winter. I had just left wild rye and grass in the Brazos River bottom over knee high, and here the potato-vines were not killed in the fields. While Texas has changed from a savage to a civilized state during these thirty-six years, its climate has, in many respects, undergone material changes.

January, 1836, wore the garments of spring at the Falls of the Brazos. I am now writing in Washington County, two degrees south; it is January, 1872, and, as I look through my window, the earth, the trees and houses are clad in garments of snow. It is much colder in winter now, more sultry in summer, and, as a rule, rains more now in one year than it did then in three.

Nothing of special importance occurred until we reached the old town of Nacogdoches in the east. Having an important engagement to be at a point beyond Nacogdoches

on Sunday night, that must be met "if the Lord will," and being twenty miles west of the town when the sun of Sunday morning rose, I felt compelled to violate my former custom and travel on the Lord's day. My mind was by no means at ease. Several Sundays had come and gone while we were in the wilderness, and only one sermon had been preached, and that on an evening during the week. This was by no means the course I had pursued for fourteen years in Tennessee. My very soul burned within me to preach Jesus.

An election was in progress when I reached the town. This was the law and custom of the country in that day. Here was a large crowd of Americans, Mexicans, and Indians of several different tribes. My mule was soon tied, and after consultation with my great Master—for I had no one else to consult with — I decided to preach, and began looking around for a suitable place. Near by the vast crowd I saw the foundation timbers of a large framed building already laid. No floor had been laid, nor upright pieces raised. No sooner discovered than I selected one corner of this for a pulpit, the sills and sleepers already laid and well adjusted would answer for seats. I held up my watch in my hand, and cried at the top of my voice, "O-yes! o-yes! o-yes! everybody that wants to buy, without money and without price, come this way,"- and commenced singing the old battle-song: "Am I a soldier of the cross?" Before I finished my song there was around me a large crowd of all sorts and sizes and colors. A brief prayer was offered, and the two verses sung, "Tis religion that can give," amidst profound silence. Astonishment, rather than reverence, was stamped upon their features. Across the street was a large upper gallery, and

by this time it was full of ladies and gentlemen. Just at this point some wagons and a carriage, evidently belonging to movers, drove up close to where I was standing, and I recognized brother Wm. Whitaker and family, from Hardiman County, Tennessee, three of whose daughters I had baptized in the old State. The preacher who reads this will understand the effect this produced upon the speaker. My text was announced from Isaiah xxxv. 1: "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose." Never did the cane-brake preacher receive better attention. God blessed me with great liberty for one hour, amid many tears shed all around me. The congregation was dismissed in due form, and there were many hearty shakes given the strange preacher's hand. My soul was full to overflowing, and at that moment I believed the text. God has not disappointed me.

We took a Red River steamer at Nachitoches for Natchez, and reshipping there landed at Memphis. Passing through the western district of Tennessee, I preached to my old churches, having been absent from them, amid very many trials, for about six months. My business was closed up as rapidly as possible; arriving in Mississippi, found my loved ones all well and willing to share with me the fortunes of Texas, be they good or bad.

REPARATIONS preceding a removal from an old country to a new one remind me very much of the preparation necessary to be made in going from time to eternity. A great many articles formerly of use must now be dispensed with, and other articles at a great price must be obtained. Preparation necessary being made, we were all soon on board the steamer "Statesman," about the first of April, 1836. After a smooth and quick voyage we were landed at Nachitoches, Louisiana; teams. were purchased and provisions laid in for the long overland journey.

On the first day and every day till we reached the Sabine, we met families running away from Texas. On the second day of March the declaration of independence was signed by the convention in session at Washington, Texas, declaring Texas a sovereign, free and independent Republic. Exasperated by this bold stand of the people, and in view of the defiance of Travis, Crockett, and Bowie at San Antonio, the Alamo under the eye of Santa Anna had been surrounded on Sunday morning, March 6th, by the entire Mexican army, and one hundred and eighty-eight brave men put to the sword, and the Texans were at this time in full retreat under Sam. Houston, and the Mexicans in full pursuit under Santa Anna. I was upbraided by everybody I met, and by some cursed as a fool, declaring that my family would