One Sunday, toward the close of his life, he said to me: "Brother B----, would it suit you to go with me over to Pendleton and Hardy? I have a line of meetings in view; and if it would suit you to go with me I will be very glad of your company. I want to gather some medicines by the way, and as you are fond of rambling among the mountains you may enjoy the trip and make yourself useful at the same time."
I agreed to go. So on Thursday morning about the latter part of July, very early, we mounted our horses. "Old Nell"--as he called his favorite riding mare, that had up to that time, as his Diary will show, carried him on her back over _thirty thousand miles_--seemed to understand where we were starting for, and how fast she ought to go. In the early part of the day she walked very moderately; but as the hours went by she quickened her gait, and really walked with a livelier step in the evening than she had in the fore part of the day. Soon after our arrival the people began to come together for night meeting at the house where we staid.
After a most refreshing supper and a little rest we were ready to engage in the sacred duties of worship. Brother Kline very kindly took the lead in the services, and in a very plain way delivered one of the best discourses I have ever heard on Col. 1:12. This is the TEXT: "_Giving thanks to the Father, who hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light._"
He showed, in a very impressive way, that if an heir to an estate is not qualified to appreciate that estate, to enjoy it by making a right use of it, it can do him but little good. From this thought his mind ascended heavenward; and he said that heaven, with all its glory and bliss, can never be a desirable inheritance to any but to those who are qualified or prepared for it. Those who are thus qualified are described in the text as "_the saints in light_." He then drew a most lively picture of the difference between a saint in light and a sinner in darkness. It almost chilled my blood to see how low in the scale of intelligent beings the one stands contrasted with the lofty elevation of the other.
The next day we repaired to the Shenandoah mountain to procure medical herbs. We went up into a very deep and rich hollow, where it looked as if the rays of the sun could hardly penetrate, and soon I saw his face light up with something that evidently pleased him. "Ah! here it is," said he. "What is here?" I asked. "Don't you see this patch of Ginseng?" he replied. "Is this Ginseng? It is my first sight of it."