the ascendency. But how then could I answer to God? was the startling
question that burned into my soul at every turn of the argument. In the
midst of my embarrassment the thought was suggested, "It is only until
Conference, and then you can return and resume your business."

Catching at this straw, thus floating to me, and half believing and half
hoping that three months of my incompetency would satisfy the church and
send me back to my business again, I consented to go. Leaving my
temporal interests in the hands of my father, I hastened to make the
necessary preparations for my new responsibilities. The outfit was
provokingly limited. The horse and saddlebags, the inevitable Alpha, if
not the Omega, of an Itinerant's outfit, were wanting, as such
conveniences had hardly, as yet, found their way to the northern
portions of the Territory. But in their place were put good walking
ability and a small satchel. A few pieces of linen, a few books, but no
sermons, were put into the satchel, and I was immediately stepping to
the measure of the Itinerancy.

My first point of destination was Fond du Lac, the residence of the
Presiding Elder, where I must necessarily report for instructions. The
walk of twenty-two miles, with no other companion than a plethoric
satchel, passing from hand to hand as the weary miles, one after
another, were dismissed, was not the most favorable introduction to my
"new departure," but, bad as it was, I found relief in the thought that
my Eastern friends, who had so kindly and repeatedly proposed to give me
a comfortable seat somewhere in the New York Conference, were in
blissful ignorance of the sorry figure I was making. Whether Jonah found
his last conveyance more agreeable than the first, I cannot say, but
certain it is, I found my first entrance upon the Itinerancy a
tugging business.