Milford chronicle., 1924-12-26
BISHOP ASBURY, PROPHET OF THE LONG ROAD
CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEP
The Long Road

V(O4N AANC4O H4SO0A AfAoA WGE1A
The Long Road
In Asbury's journal is to be reaG
the record Of his achievement. Dali!
he jOtted down his comings and go
ings, his impressions Of the life tina
was around about him. Perhaps n,
Completer picture Of early Americ'
in the years from 1771 to 1916 ex
lists than that contained in his jour
nal. No man Of that period Travelled
as far or as constantly as Asbury
and in no other book can there bl
found a more intimate knowledge oi
the frontiers, or the social and NOR.
al conditions which prevailed. We
find him dropping In to chat witt
George Washington, who received
him politely and gave him his Opin-
ion against slavery" again he Is
discovered in the wilderness Of Ten
nessee, sharing the hardships Of the
road with those hardy pioneers who
were attempting ''the crossing" from
the Carolinas into the new frontier.
He leaves an unforgettable picture:
What a road we have passed!
Certainly the worst on the whole
continent, even in the best weather.
Yet, bad as it was, there were four
OF five hundred crossing the rude
hills while we were. I was power
fully struck with the consideration
that there were at least as many
thousand emigrants annually from
East to West. We must take care to
send preachers after these people.
We have made one thousand and
eighty miles from Philadelphia; and
now what a detail of suffering
might give, fatiguing me to write,
and perhaps my friends to read. A
man who is well mounted will scorn
to complain Of the roads when he
sees men, women and children al-
most naked, padding barefoot and
barelegged along, or laboring up the
rocky hills, while those who are best
OF have only q horse for two or
three children to ride at once. If
these adventurers have little or
nothing to eat it is no extraordinary
circumstance, and not uncommon, to
encamp in the wet woods after night
in the mountains it does not rain,
but pours. I, too, have my suffer-
ings, perhaps peculiar to myself-no
room to retire to; that In which you
sit common to all, crowded with wo-
men and children, the fire occupied
by cooking, a much and long-lOVed |
solitude not to be found, unless you |
choose to run out into the rain, in |
the woods. Six months in the year
I have had, for thirty-two years, oc-
to submit to what will
never be agreeable to me; but the
people, it must be confessed, are
among the kindest souls in the
world. But kindness will not make
a crowded log cabin, twelve feet by
ZEN, agreeably; without are cold and
rain, and within six adults, and as
many children, one of which is all
notion; the dogs, too, must some
lines be admitted. On Saturday
ound that among my other trials I !
lad taken an uncomfortable skin +
lisease; and, considering the filthy
louses and filthy beds have met f
With in coming from Kentucky con- t
erence, it is perhaps strange that / f
lave not caught it twenty times. 1
% not see that there is any securing d
gainst it, but my sleeping in a I
'rimstone shirt. Poor bishopl But I
re must bear it for the elects sake. L
Eleven years before this when b
here were fewer people making "the a
rossing" he tells how: "Next night b
70 reached Crab Orchard, where il
hirty or forty people were compel T