My father died before I was two years of age, leaving my mother with four children other than myself. She was an industrious and kind parent, although at that time not a partaker of grace. After I knew the Lord for myself my constant prayer was that He would bring my dear mother to know Him, and which I have every reason to believe He answered, for (though late in life) I had a good hope that she was resting on the Rock, Christ Jesus. When old enough, I was admitted into Zion Chapel Sunday-school, in connection with the Countess of Huntingdon's chapel, in Whitechapel; and when my name was enrolled, I remember my mother saying·, “It would keep me from the streets:” but my…