CHAPTER 25 JOHN CRANE

CHAPTER 25JOHN CRANE The subject of our present narrative was born at station, about two miles below Nashville Tennessee, in the year 1787. Lewis Crane, his father, was among the very first settlers in Cumberland, and was one of those hardy pioneers who braved the dangers of the wilderness, constantly exposed, with his family, to savage depredations. At that early day there were but comparatively few means of grace enjoyed by the settlers. No sound of the church-going bell waked the echoes of the forests with its inviting tones; and it was only occasionally that a Methodist itinerant, in one of his long and weary circuits through the wilderness, following the emigrant population as they penetrated the western wilds, would lift up his voice in the log-cabins, or by the campfires of the almost homeless wanderers, and proclaim a full and free salvation in the name of Jesus. Though this class of ministers was often despised by black-gowned and white-cravated clergymen, with the lore of a theological seminary in their brains, and the powder and perfume of the toilet on their hair, and, by way of derision, called "circuit riders," or "swaddlers," yet, had it not been for their self-sacrificing devotion, Christianity would not have been kept alive in these western wilds. Often have these men traveled from block-house to block-house, from station to station, and from cabin to wigwam, bearing the messages of mercy to their fellow-men, without any means of support or any expectation of a pecuniary reward. But the history of one is, to a greater or less extent, the history of all those early pioneers of Christianity.

Lewis was not only the first among the adventurers to this western wilderness, but he was among the first that became religious and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church. Though Methodists at that time were few in number, yet they lived to love God and one another, and cheerfully bore the cross of him who said, "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow me." Hence, we may readily infer that young John, though born in a block-house, in the most troublous times of border warfare, was early taught the fear of God. At the early age of six he was brought under religious influence, and impressions were made upon his tender mind and heart that marked his character forever. And here we might remark, nothing is more important than giving the mind a proper training in the soft and flexible season of youth. The softest breath of summer may stir the stem of the delicate flower, while the rudest blasts of winter may not move the giant oak. In very early life the mind receives impressions that tell upon its future destiny.

"A pebble in the streamlet scant Has turned the course of many a river; A dew drop on the baby plant Has warped the giant oak forever.’’ The Prussian king, in urging reasons why the children of the realm should be religiously educated, said, "The youthful mind receives impressions with the flexibility of wax, and retains them with the durability of bronze." Said another individual, "Scratch the rind of the sapling, and the gnarled oak will tell of it for centuries."

Whatever these pioneer Christians learned, they learned the importance of giving their children a religious education. At the age of twelve John was made a subject of converting grace, during the great revival which prevailed in Cumberland and all over the west. He was regarded as one of the most remarkable children of his age; and during this early period of his life he frequently exhorted his friends and acquaintances to seek religion, with an effect that gave evidence of his wonderful eloquence and zeal, few being able to resist the wisdom and power manifested in the preacher-boy. Many of his young associates were brought under religious influence through his instrumentality; and had their parents possessed the belief that young children could love and serve God, and followed up the convictions received by proper religious training, many would have become, like John, burning and shining lights. We were well acquainted with a traveling preacher who had a lovely daughter, seven years of age, an only child, and she had been taught to pray from her infancy.

Once at a quarterly meeting, after all the professors in the house had communed, this child, who was sitting by her mother weeping, looked up into her face with streaming eyes, and said, "Mother, may I go and remember my Savior at the sacrament?" The mother replied, "Go, ask your father, my child." The father was sitting in the altar, and the little girl approached him and said tremblingly, "Father, may a child take the sacrament?" "Yes, my dear," said the father, unable to restrain his feelings, you may come; for Jesus said, ’Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.’ She then went round to the outside of the railing, and kneeled down, sobbing as if her little heart would break. It was a moving scene, and the congregation was melted into tears, while some cried out aloud. The presiding elder, James Quinn, of blessed memory, in the full gush of his benevolent spirit, when he saw the weeping penitent, immediately took the bread and broke it, administering to that lamb the body of Jesus. When he came with the wine and said, "The blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, hereby represented, preserve your soul and body unto everlasting life," his own feelings, as well as those of the audience, were intense and almost insupportable. he gave it to the child, and just as it touched her lips the Spirit was applied, "Which with the blood Doth wash and seal the sons of God," and heaven sprung up in the heart of that happy child. She was converted, and from that hour became a consistent and devoted disciple of Jesus. We knew her well, and after she had a large family of children; but she kept the faith, and brought them all up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

If it will not tire the reader, and be considered too great a digression from the subject, we will relate another incident illustrative of youthful piety, and tending to show the negligence of Christians in regard to children. At a campmeeting held on C. S. campground, the venerable Bishop McKendree was present and preached to the children and young people. On this occasion the Bishop noticed a little boy who was much effected. Being intimately acquainted with the family, and knowing the child well, he invited him into his tent, and conversed and prayed with him, laying his hand upon his little head and commending him to God. That afternoon the doors of the Church were opened, and this boy went forward and presented himself as a probationer. He was received, and continued to attend regularly to his religious duties, never absenting himself from prayer meeting, or class meeting, or preaching when he could attend. He was but a mere child, and as he would sit in class, no one, either leader or preacher, would speak to him or pay him any attention. At this his young heart was much aggrieved, and he was sometimes tempted to go no more; but he concluded to hold on till his grandfather, who was a traveling preacher, would visit them, and he would speak to him on the subject. At length the grandfather came, and when he was sitting alone, one day, he came to him, and said,—

"Grandfather, I want to ask you a question."

"Well, my child," said the old man, "what is your wish?"

"Well, it is this," said he; "do you think I am too young to serve God and belong to the Church?" "No, not at all, my child," said the venerable saint, with emotion. "Your mother embraced religion when she was only seven years of age, and we have many examples in the Bible where children became religious in the dawn of life, such as Samuel, and Josiah, and Timothy; and the Scriptures say, ’Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings God has perfected praise.’ But why did you ask this question?"

"At campmeeting," said the child, "when Bishop McKendree preached to us children, I resolved I would be a Christian, and when brother C. opened the doors of the Church, I went forward and joined. I have been to meeting every time since, and staid in class; but no person says a word to me about religion, and I thought they considered me too young to be noticed."

"Well," said the grandfather, "I will go with you to meeting next Sunday, and if the preacher does not speak to you when he meets the class, do you rise up and ask him the reason. Do you understand?"

" Yes, grandfather, I will." The day came, and the grandfather and child were at meeting. When the congregation was dismissed, the preacher commenced leading his class, and all were spoken to as usual but the little boy. He made an effort to rise, but his heart failed him. The grandfather, seeing this, said, "Brother L., little J. has a question to ask you?" The child then rose, and, in a simple manner, gave his experience, not forgetting to allude to his not having been spoken to. At this the preacher blushed, and the class-leader wept, one after the other confessing their delinquency and promising to do better for the future. That child has grown to manhood, and has a family, and has been a useful and highly acceptable member of the Church. God forbid that we should despise one of these little ones that believes in Jesus! But we must resume our narrative. The astonishing progress made by young Crane in gifts, grace, and usefulness, was such as to indicate to the Church most clearly that he was called of God to preach the Gospel; and, accordingly, he was recommended as a suitable person to be received on trial in the traveling connection. His bones had not yet hardened into manhood, and his youthful appearance, and slender, delicate frame seemed to forbid the hope that he would be able to breast the storms and encounter the toils and hardships of an itinerant life. Nature and grace alike had fitted him for the work; and, though young, it was evidently the design of Providence that he should enter the field of his Lord and engage in gathering the harvest of souls. He was received at the Western conference, held at Nolachucky, in Tennessee, in 1807, and sent to the Holston circuit, which he traveled six months with great acceptability and usefulness among the people. The remaining six months were spent on the French Broad circuit. His extreme youth as a preacher, his zeal and piety, together with his remarkable native eloquence, called large crowds to hear him wherever he went, and God owned his labors in bringing, through his instrumentality, many a wayward sinner, both old and young, from their wanderings to the knowledge of the truth and the salvation of God. In 1808 he was removed from French Broad, and sent to the Deer Creek circuit, in Ohio, the Colleague of that eminent man of God, Benjamin Lakin. On this circuit he had great influence, and the melting, moving strains of the youthful herald found way to thousands of hearts. Notwithstanding his great success, he had to encounter many fierce and fiery trials; but out of all the Lord delivered him and made him shine with greater brightness. At the ensuing conference at Liberty hill, he was admitted into full connection and ordained to the office of a deacon. Having thus taken upon himself more fully the vows of God, and having consecrated himself more unreservedly to the service of his master, he was ready for any field, however rugged, or any work, however toilsome. The wants of the great west were before him, and giving himself up into the hands of the appointing power, he was sent to the distant Mississippi. For a youth of his age, having just passed his minority, it must have been a bold and daring under taking. It was a long and weary journey through a wilderness, and, when reached, the population was sparse, and that mostly Roman Catholic, whose first principles of indoctrination are to hate Protestants. Surely, nothing but an intense love for lost sinners and in unshaken confidence in the promise of the Savior, "Lo, I am with you alway, even to the end of the world," could have urged him on in this missionary work. He went; and the God of Jacob, who sustained and comforted him as he lay upon his rock pillow, was with this young soldier of the cross. He went as an evangelist, and was successful in the work of planting Churches in the wilderness, dedicated to a pure Christianity. Neither swamps, nor forests dense and drear, nor broad rivers, could shake him from his purpose or impede his way. Onward, over craggy steeps, and through dells and dark morasses, he urged his course, and wherever he could track the foot of man he pursued, to bear to him the messages of mercy and salvation. But his tour of hardship, which he had already borne as a good soldier, was not yet ended. He served so well and so bravely in this frontier field, on the outposts of civilization, that, at the conference in 1811, he was sent to Cold Water and Missouri united in giving him this appointment, it seemed like putting him in charge of the whole far-western world. The circuit included both sides of the Missouri river, and often, was he obliged to swim his horse across the great "father of waters." Nothing, however, stopped this bearer of heavenly dispatches. He was charged with a high trust from the court of heaven, and God had given him passports, which secured his right of way over the whole continent, and to every log-cabin and frontier wigwam he bore the messages of Heaven. Multitudes believed his report, and to them the arm of the Lord was revealed in mercy to save, and, doubtless, while we write, many of those redeemed through his instrumentality are rejoicing and praising God in the upper sanctuary. In the year 1812 he was appointed to the Duck river circuit. While here, large numbers flocked from all parts of the country to hear the words of life. It was the year of the memorable earthquake, which shook so terribly the southern country. Thousands, by day and by night, flocked to hear the Gospel from the lips of this sainted youth; and such was his zeal and fervor, conjoined with the burning desire that "All the world might taste and see The riches of God’s, grace," he literally, like a lambent flame, burned out in the service of his Master. Wearied out with ceaseless labors by night and by day, and subjected to frequent exposures in traveling from one distant appointment to another, he was attacked with inflammation of the lungs. When his disease assumed such a form as to disqualify him from preaching, he was at the house of a Mr. Mitchell, where all the attention that could be shown him was paid by stranger hands. But all efforts were unavailing, and he rapidly declined, till it was evident to all that death was near, and he would never preach again. On one occasion his symptoms were of such a nature as to induce those who were present in believe that he was dying, and it seemed, after a short struggle, that his breath had ceased, and he was gone; but in a short time he revived again, and said to his friends, "What hath brought me back to earth again? I have been on the very suburbs of heaven and glory." It seemed as if his spirit had been trying its wings for the mystic but glorious flight, and had returned for some purpose. Shortly after this brief trance his father came, and, embracing him in his arms, he said, "O father, I love you; but I have a Father in heaven whom I love more, and I shall soon be with him in glory. My body will soon be consigned to the grave; but my soul will put on immortality and eternal life." His countenance, always winning and attractive, now beamed with an unearthly brightness, and, like the glories of the setting sun, throwing back, on its departure, the radiance of the better land on which it is rising, so his spirit seemed to reflect the radiance of heaven. His work was done for earth, his commission had expired, and death was waiting to sound his release. With a smile upon his lips, he bade his father and friends a last adieu, and soared to companionship with angels and God. Thus fell the youthful herald of the cross, at his post, in the distant wilds of Missouri.