Biographical Memoirs of the Late Rev. John Gano, of Frankfort, Kentucky

p. 11XN compliance with a request of part, if not ail of my family, to leave some memorials of my life, (which I should much more cheerfully undertake, had I spent it to better purposes, and more faithfully in the services of my God, and society both civil and sacred, to which I have long since considered myself inviolably to owe every part of it,) the only query I ^now have is, whether this will not be deemed useless, or whether it is more innocently spent than in the omission of it. But to begin my life, the scattered scraps of ^\hich, only memory at ^sent can collect, having none of the remarks at hand, which I have heretofore incorrectly committed tq paper, which would at least furnish me with dates, and without which I am at a loss ?; begin.

p. 12My own life suggests progenitors, ^vhich were on my father's side, from France, — on my mother's, from Britain. My great grandfather, Francis Gano, brought my grandfather Stephen Gano, (when a child,) from Guernsey, in Jersey ; it being a tinie of bloody persecution. Flight, or the relinquishment of the protestant religion, of which he was a professor, were the only means of preserving his life. He chose the former. One of his neighbours had been martyred in the day, and, in the evening, he was determined on as as the victim for the next day ; information of which, he received in the dead of the night. He thereupon chartered a vessel, removed his family on board, and, in the morning, was out of sight of the harbour. Of what number his family consisted, I am not able to say. On his arrival in America, he settled in New-RlSfchelle, ni the state o||||^'York, and lived to the age of one hundred and three. My grandfather, Stephen GanOi married, I believe, Ann Walton, by whom he had many children, some of whom died m youth ; those who lived to maiTy, were p. 13Daniel, Francis, James, John, Lewis, Isaac, and three daughters, Sarah, Catharine, and Susannah, the last of whom lived to the age of eighty-seven. My father was the first of the beforementioned. He married Sarah Brit-ton, daughter of Nathaniel Britton, of StatenIsland. Her mother was a Stilwell, who made a profession of religion when about twenty years of age, and continued a member of the Baptist church till her death ; her age was near an hundred.

p. 13My parents continued living on StatenIsland, till they had two children, Daniel, and Jane. They then removed to New-Jersey, and setded in Hopewell, Hunterdon county, where were born Stephen, Susannah, myself, Nathaniel, David, and Sarah. At the age of six years, I well remember being seized with a^l^Ke sickness in the spring, from which I did- not recover till the fall ; during which time, as I have since understood, the linen ivas procured in which to lay me out, supposing I was actually dead, as I lay a great part of the tin>€ perfectly senseless. When p. 14I recovered, I was sent to a common comitry school, and had a strict religious education. My mother ])eing a pious Baptist, which she publicly professed in her youth, and my father being a steady Presbyterian, took care that I was made well acquainted with, the West-minster confession of faith and catechism, which before my conversion, summoned my attention to preaching. If the sentiments I then heard disclosed, answered to the doctrines in which I was taught, they met my approbation ; and if not, my displeasure was the consequence.

*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 gi'ace, or perish as a sinner. But these con^ ictions vv ere transient and of short duration. As I advanced in jears, I progressed ii^j^hful vanity and sin. I became exceedingly anxious to excel my companions in work and amusements, and especially in their country frolics and dances. 1 was frequently admonished by my Parents for working to p. 15excess, bat 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, haying been out late the night before, she fixed her eyes upon rae, 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 rejections 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 ov n soul ! Recoil they must, if not before, at least in the day of judgment ; and there I must se«|lbis parent, whose tears now condole my case, smile an acquiescent consent m the dreadful sentence of eternal banishment from the righteous judge." These reflections caused many resolutions, which were shamefully broken for a time ; yet a sense of my p. 16dangerous situation, would, now and then, fill my mind \vith melancholy sensations, and doth even iioxv, while writing it.

p. 16When I was about fifteen years of age, my brother Stephen, \\ho 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 flo^^cd from natural affections, as time gradually wore it aw»y. This has caused me to omit many impressions which wdiich had some appearance of convictions, such as escapes from apparent danger of death, by various means incidental to y^M^ ; the deaths of others Stc. &: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 p. 15disorder ; one of whom was in her twentiedi 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 w hich 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 t\ventieth 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 w^as 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.