THE writer of this little book was born and raised in a log-cabin on Mitchell’s creek, in Shelby county, Illinois, twelve miles south-west of Shelbyville, the county-seat. Date of birth, April 26, 1836. At that time there was a poor chance for a boy to get an education; but we love to think of those days, because nature in all her beauties was so near like the hand of God had formed it; the skill of man had changed it so little, and it was our school and our delight to roam over the wide unbroken prairies, where the lark was singing in his native home. Where the wild flowers, of all colors, were more beautiful than Solomon in all his glory. These scenes inspired a feeling in a boy’s heart of awe and reverence for the God of nature more deep and sublime and true, than all the preaching could inspire. When a boy would get on a high piece of ground and look around he saw a more beautiful sight than he will ever see again on this earth, and his eyes would fill with tears and from the depths of his boyish heart he would give glory to God; and I don’t know but that boy was better there and then than he ever will be again, until God shall call him home.