In
early life I had some severe convictions of sins, conscious I must die and go
to judgment; and that I must be renewed by grace, or perish as a sinner. But these convictions were transient and of
short duration. As I advanced in years,
I progressed in youthful vanity and sin. I became exceedingly anxious to excel my
companions in work and amusements, and especially in their country frolics and
dances. I was frequently admonished by
my Parents for working to excess, but
much more frequently for my attachment to vanity. I cannot charge myself with irreverence to my
parents; but when my pious mother would expostulate with me, I seized the
opportunity to vindicate myself. One
morning when I came into her presence, having been out late the night before,
she fixed her eyes upon me, said not a word, and the pious parental tear stole
down her cheek, which struck me with more conviction than I ever remembered to
have felt before, which I could not eradicate by any reply, and which caused
these reflections to sink deep in my mind: "Do my present follies cause so
much pain to the most pious and most tender of parents, what must be the
consequence, when they recoil on my own soul! Recoil they must, if not before, at
least in the day of judgment; and there I must see this parent, whose tears now
condole my case, smile an acquiescent consent in the dreadful sentence of
eternal banishment from the righteous judge." These reflections caused many resolutions,
which were shame fully broken for a time; yet a sense of my dangerous
situation, would, now and then, fill my mind with melancholy sensations, and doth
even now, while writing it.
When
I was about fifteen years of age, my brother Stephen, who was then in his twentieth
year, died. He was, before, and in the
first part of his illness, deeply concerned for the salvation of his soul, of
which, before his death, he professed a strong hope. When he expressed this hope, and what he said
under his conviction, greatly engaged my resolution to seek an acquaintance, if
possible, with Christ. Probably, great
part of this exercise flowed from natural affections, as time gradually wore it
away. This has caused me to omit many impressions which had some appearance of
convictions, such as escapes from apparent danger of death, by various means
incidental to youth; the deaths of others &c. &c. Between two and three years after this, the
dysentery seized the family excepting my father and myself. They were brought exceeding low, and a brother
and two sisters fell victims to the disorder; one of whom was in her twentieth
year. It was the more alarming to me, as
it brought to my mind a prediction, which had been early imposed on my father,
and which I had often heard him mention with apparent cheerfulness. Which prediction was, that he would have many
children, (as in reality he had,) and that three of them should die in their
twentieth year. As I was next in point
of years, this thought continually haunted me, and made me sensible that I was
not prepared for such an awful change. Whenever
I could dispel those gloomy thoughts, I was more at ease, and more vile and
vain than ever, which continued and even increased until the christmas before I
was nineteen years of age.
That
time, I had determined to spend a jovial evening with my frolicing [sic] companions. As, however, there was a sermon to be preached
on that day, near to the place where I lived, I concluded to attend both. After sermon, my mind turned on the
inconsistency of my conduct, in spending the day, where God was served, and the
night, in the service of the devil. This
led me to consider more closely than ever, that if a day was regarded as the
birth of Christ, a holy Saviour, through whom alone we could look for
salvation, — how improper it was to spend it in open rebellion! This brought me to a resolution, — that I would
spend my time in a more consistent manner, than I had done — and, blessed be
God, before the year terminated, I was brought under serious impressions, which
arose from a conversation with a person, whom I supposed really pious and
sincere, he advanced something, which my own soul told me was just; but vainly
supposing I could shake his belief, I readily undertook to argue with him,
which so confused him, that he requested me to stop; with which I cheerfully
complied, being fully satisfied with the victory I had obtained. We parted, and in a few minutes it occurred to
my mind, that I had acted improperly; — that I had been instigated by the
devil, to oppose truth and glory. I
appeared to myself to be a worshipper of Satan ; and it seemed that all the
advantages I possessed, were employed to the dishonour of God; and I thought it
was a miracle of mercy and grace, that he did not make me an everlasting
monument of his displeasure. It became
my ardent wish, that if there was a possibility of pardon for my sins and
transgressions, I might not rest either night or day until I obtained it: which
was in some measure the case, although my trials under conviction were of long
continuance. I embraced every opportunity
in my power, in attending preaching, reading godly books, and praying either
mentally or aloud. There was a total
change in my company and conduct. But I
soon found by experience, what I had early learned from my Bible, that a change
of heart was necessary; and that the power of God's grace only could accomplish
it; which, I was afraid, would never be granted. I was, however, determined to seek it to the
latest hour of my existence. I cannot
express the anguish, with which my mind was frequently oppressed, with the idea
of being eternally banished from God, in endless despair, to everlasting
destruction. I saw I deserved it, and at
times concluded it was unavoidable. My
prayers were selfish and sinful. I often
thought that I offended God in asking for par don, when justice appeared so
pointedly against it. In short, I
appeared to myself the vilest of sinners, more worthless and odious than the meanest
reptile, and the greatest hypocrite in the world. It appeared that what I felt was only natural
remorse, and not a genuine conviction that God's wrath was the prelude of his
lasting displeasure. Impressed with
these feelings I concluded I was willing to be saved, and that if I waited the
assistance of God, it was all I could do: for it was by his grace that I could
be saved. This in some measure afforded
me a kind of deluded ease, until I heard a sermon from these words, in
Solomon's Song, 3, xi, Go forth O ye daughters of Zion,
and behold King Solomon, &c. From
which discourse I plainly saw the alienation of my heart, that the fault was
owing to myself if I was not saved, and that God was waiting to be gracious. Never before, had I seen so much of the evil
of my hard and obstinate heart. From that time, the nature of my conviction was
altered, and my grief was greater. I
knew that I must be changed, and that it was to be effected by God, and that he
would affect it was my most fervent wish. But how he could be just and save me
I knew not: that he could be just and condemn me, appeared plain. In this
state, I remained for some time. And it
was some satisfaction to my mind, that God would secure his own glory, and the
honour of his son. In this temper of
mind, the way of salvation, through the life, death, and mediation, of the
glorious Saviour, appeared plain. I
contemplated on the amazing wisdom and goodness of God, and condescension of
Christ. My soul was enraptured, amazed,
and confounded, that with all my ingratitude, I could still be saved. My mind was enlightened, and my guilt and fear
of punishment was removed. Yet, notwithstanding the alteration I felt,
I am not sensible that I thought of its being a real conviction; I was afraid
my convictions would not be lasting; and I prayed for a continuance of them. I was con strained at times to rejoice in God
and his salvation; and in this state continued some time, until a sermon from
these words, with light and power fasted on my mind : "Jesus, thou
Son of David, have mercy on me." I trust they were so applied, that I could not
put them from me. They opened the way of salvation, the suitableness, fulness,
and willingness of God; and I was enabled to appropriate them to myself, and
rejoice in Christ. This was the time,
from which I dated my conversion, and I think I walked in the light of God's
countenance, and had many blessed promises, which strengthened and confirmed my
hope in, and humbled me before God. 1
Lord willing we
will take another look at the life of Rev. Gano in my next post.
Christ, not man, is King!
Dale
1) John Gano, Biographical Memoirs of the Late Rev. John Gano (New York: Southwick & Hardcastle, 1806), p. 12-20.
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