land to which wild adventurers and honest seekers for wealth alike were flocking? Not till "the books" kept by the Errorless One "shall be opened" can we know the extent of this man's influence in shaping the civilization of these vast regions. It is well that the story of this life has been written, that its inspiration may reach the young men who may toil in fields which this man redeemed from sterility and seeded with truth.

In the hope that his declining sun may shine brightly to its setting, and that its afterglow may blend with the glory of the risen sun of his immortal life, we commend his book to all lovers of Christian heroism.

HENRY D. KIMBALL.

SPOKANE, WASHINGTON, October 19, 1904.

STORY OF MY LIFE.

I HAVE been frequently requested by several of my personal friends to give some account of my life and work. Now that I am on the superannuated list of ministers, and have some leisure, I can hardly deny them this fraternal request.

Permit me to say at the outset, that there is no renown in this personal life, such as pertains to men of celebrity in Church or State. It is unpretentious; only such as is ordinary among Methodist ministers. It will only have special interest to Methodist people, and only to those who have known me in my social, religious, and ministerial life. You see, then, how narrow and limited this life has been in the breadth of its influence. But no life is unimportant that has been sincere and true to God's purpose, however limited. I therefore dedicate this brief biography to my many friends in the Church and out of it, who may chance to read it, with the prayer that my Heavenly Father's blessing may go with it.

PARENTAGE.

My father's name was William Turner, and my mother's maiden name was Matilda Adams. I am one of seventeen children-seven sons and ten daughters, my father having been twice married. I was the seventh in order of birth. Three sons by the first marriage became Methodist ministers. My father was a local minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church. He preached nearly as often as the traveling preachers of his day, especially at funerals. He was a tailor by trade, and was a Justice of the Peace for many years, and died at the ripe age of ninety years and twenty-one days. My birthplace was Jersey Shore, in Central Pennsylvania, a place of no note.

The date was May 28, 1826. I was converted at the age of fourteen, and united with the Methodist Episcopal Church. The entire family became members of the Church, except one boy, and became good and respectable American citizens. This is a fairly good record for a minister's family, who are supposed to turn out badly.

CONVERSION.

My conversion at the age of fourteen, as I said, was in a sense peculiar enough to call for some notice. In the early days of Methodism great emphasis was put on conversion, but not greater than is clearly taught in the New Testament; but I fear less emphasis is put on it to-day than in Wesley's time in this great Church, I mean by most Methodist ministers at present. Conviction then was generally clear, and often pungent. Such was mine. This continued in my case for two years and a half, with but few intervals of quiet from guilt and condemnation. In these two years and six months I passed through four or five seasons of gracious revivals, in which I took a deep and serious interest without finding peace or rest. At the close of the last revival mentioned, there were about one hundred taken into the Church of my home town. I sat in the congregation with a sad and burdened heart and great discouragement. There was an elderly man, whom I greatly admired as a Christian, who sat by my side. I ventured to ask him if he thought it would be wrong for me to go forward and join the Church with the throng who were pressing into the kingdom. He replied that he thought it would be well to do so. I went forward with the rest, fully determined to seek till I found peace for my troubled soul. That evening, in a prayer service before the sermon, a glorious peace came into my soul, and I broke out into a joyous laughter, without any boisterous shouting, as I had imagined I would have at my deliverance from guilt and condemnation. I should have been justified in shouting aloud, so great was the change, "A new creature in Christ Jesus!" A passage from dark

ness into light.. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name!" This is the language of a new-born soul.

I have often, since those two years and six months' seeking, wondered why I did not enter into rest sooner. Of one thing I am clearly conscious, that it has taught me an important lesson; that had I backslidden I have had a wholesome fear that I might never have been reclaimed. Another thing I have been taught by this long struggle is, that sin-deliberate sin-is an awful thing in God's sight, and when repented of and forgiven it wonderfully magnifies the goodness and mercy of God our Heavenly Father!

This leads me to speak of my early religious life from my fourteenth to my twenty-fourth year. I was faithful and conscientious in my attendance on the class-meetings, the prayer-meetings, and the public services of the sanctuary, and tremblingly took part in the social meetings. I also tried to be faithful in reading the Bible and secret prayer. I was taught to reverence the Sabbath by my parents, both by precept and example. My father was brought up a strict Presbyterian, but became a Methodist soon after his marriage. I thank God for the Presbyterian Church, and its indirect influence on my life through my parents.

MY CALL TO THE CHRISTIAN MINISTRY.

I believe firmly in a Divine call. I can not believe otherwise, as I read the Old and New Testaments. The success of Christianity depends largely on this Divine call. If I was ever called of God to enter this work, it was before my conversion as related above. I had early impressions in childhood, as I now vividly remember them, that I some day might be called into the ministry. The first decided conviction occurred in my eighth year. My father, after he became a Methodist, attended the campmeetings that were common in his day, taking his family and tenting on the ground for a week or two at a time.