A Narrative of the Most Remarkable Particulars in the Life of James Albert Ukawsaw Gronniosaw, an A | Page 8

me, till she mention'd it, and then I soon cleared myself, and
convinc'd her that these accusations were false.
I continued in a most unhappy state for many days. My good mistress
insisted on knowing what was the matter. When I made known my
situation she gave me John Bunyan on the holy war, to read; I found his
experience similar to my own, which gave me reason to suppose he
must be a bad man; as I was convinc'd of my own corrupt nature, and
the misery of my own heart: and as he acknowledg'd that he was

likewise in the same condition, I experienc'd no relief at all in reading
his work, but rather the reverse.--I took the book to my lady, and
inform'd her I did not like it at all, it was concerning a wicked man as
bad as myself; and I did not chuse to read it, and I desir'd her to give
me another, wrote by a better man that was holy and without sin.--She
assur'd me that John Bunyan was a good man, but she could not
convince me; I thought him to be too much like myself to be upright, as
his experience seem'd to answer with my own.
I am very sensible that nothing but the great power and unspeakable
mercies of the Lord could relieve my soul from the heavy burden it
laboured under at that time.--A few days after my master gave me
Baxter's Call to the unconverted. This was no relief to me neither; on
the contrary it occasioned as much distress in me as the other had
before done, as it invited all to come to Christ and I found myself so
wicked and miserable that I could not come--This consideration threw
me into agonies that cannot be described; insomuch that I even
attempted to put an end to my life--I took one of the large case-knives,
and went into the stable with an intent to destroy myself; and as I
endeavoured with all my strength to force the knife into my side, it bent
double. I was instantly struck with horror at the thought of my own
rashness, and my conscience told me that had I succeeded in this
attempt I should probably have gone to hell.
I could find no relief, nor the least shadow of comfort; the extreme
distress of my mind so affected my health that I continued very ill for
three Days, and Nights; and would admit of no means to be taken for
my recovery, though my lady was very kind, and sent many things to
me; but I rejected every means of relief and wished to die--I would not
go into my own bed, but lay in the stable upon straw--I felt all the
horrors of a troubled conscience, so hard to be born, and saw all the
vengeance of God ready to overtake me--I was sensible that there was
no way for me to be saved unless I came to Christ, and I could not
come to Him: I thought that it was impossible He should receive such a
sinner as me.
The last night that I continued in this place, in the midst of my distress

these words were brought home upon my mind, "Behold the Lamb of
God." I was something comforted at this, and began to grow easier and
wished for day that I might find these words in my bible--I rose very
early the following morning, and went to my school-master, Mr.
Vanosdore, and communicated the situation of my mind to him; he was
greatly rejoiced to find me enquiring the way to Zion, and blessed the
Lord who had worked so wonderfully for me a poor heathen.--I was
more familiar with this good gentleman than with my master, or any
other person; and found myself more at liberty to talk to him: he
encouraged me greatly, and prayed with me frequently, and I was
always benefited by his discourse.
About a quarter of a mile from my Master's house stood a large
remarkably fine Oak-tree, in the midst of a wood; I often used to be
employed there in cutting down trees, (a work I was very fond of) I
seldom failed going to this place every day; sometimes twice a day if I
could be spared. It was the highest pleasure I ever experienced to set
under this Oak; for there I used to pour out all my complaints to the
LORD: and when I had any particular grievance I used to go there, and
talk to the tree, and tell my sorrows, as if it had been to a friend.
Here I often lamented my own wicked heart, and undone state; and
found more comfort and consolation than I ever was sensible of
before.--Whenever