Born into this world of sin on August 5th, 1853, the dealings of God with the writer have been one long chain of goodness, grace and love to the present hour; but, oh! what shame and confusion of face is mine as the question comes, "How has it been requited?" Only the writer could give anything like a just answer to this soul-humbling question, and his pen for very shame refuses to transcribe all he knows. Let my God read it if He will, whose heart of love has blotted out my sins through His own most precious blood, but let no imperfect creature wish to peer into this veritable chamber of horrors—the accumulated transgressions, iniquity, and sin, of this base heart.