At the age of fifteen I was standing near State street bridge, Albany, N. Y., a couple of officers were conveying a crazy man from the cars to the steamboat, as they were going down the river to Hudson with him. The crazy man caught hold of one of the chains used to draw up a portion of the bridge to let vessels through, screaming and making a great ado. This drew the attention of the people, as many were crossing, it being car time, so that in a moment the draw part of the bridge was literally covered. It was estimated that some three hundred, besides three horses, were on this part of the bridge. I moved along on to the bridge to see what the matter was. No sooner had I reached the highest point on the bridge, than it broke off on both sides, letting this mass of humanity suddenly into the water. I was suddenly hurled into the river with the rest. I had to swim some six to ten rods before I found anything that I could cling to. I came to a small boat into which I climbed, then onto a canal boat and went back where I could see that crowd of people struggling and screaming for life. This was an awful sight. Groups of men, from one to six or more were making a desperate effort for life. Without a moment’s warning they were put in this awful condition, and now, eternity was staring them in the face. Presently the dead and dying were all around me. The thought came: “_Why was not I drowned with the rest?_” for some forty had passed suddenly into eternity. This answer came to the inquiry, “I have saved you to preach my gospel.” After years of wandering in sin, and man’s estate had been reached, with family cares and responsibilities, I erected a family altar, sought and found the pearl of great price; and with this new experience came a strong and an abiding conviction that I must preach the Gospel. In whatever direction I would try to turn my attention, this thought would loom up above all others, “_Preach my Gospel_.” I had but little conception of the awful responsibility connected with the ministry. And yet I had some idea of the vastness of the work, and in looking at myself it did seem to me that I never could attain unto the ideality of the work as I then viewed it. I was timid, ignorant, culture limited. Can God qualify me for this exalted position? These were serious considerations. The call was as clear to me as the sun at noonday. Notwithstanding the clearness of the call by the Spirit, I was often making bargains with the Lord, as Gideon did. He would ask for a wet fleece, and the fleece would be wet. And then for a dry fleece, and the fleece would be dry.