In my nineteenth year I was convicted of my sins, after the following
circumstance: I was having a quarrel with one of my younger brothers. We
were both high-spirited and each wanted to have his own way. While the
quarrel was in progress, Mother came on the scene, and what she heard was
enough to make her heart ache. "Mary, why don't you set a better example?"
"Mother," I said, "he commenced on me first. If you make him behave
himself, I will behave." "Mary, I am afraid you children will never stop
your quarreling until you land in perdition; and if I were out of the way,
you would soon be there. You act just as if you wanted me out of the way."
I saw her standing there as pale as a corpse with the big tears rolling
down her face. She was always pale in those days. I said, "Mother, don't
break my heart." "Mary," said she, "you broke my heart first." "Mother,
won't you forgive me?" "Yes," she answered, "I forgive you; but there is
one higher than I whom you have offended, and you will have to ask his
forgiveness."

Up to that time I was not under conviction, but the Lord now began to
answer the prayer of my oldest brother, who had been praying for my
conviction. That same evening I went into the garden, and earnestly asked
the Lord to convict me of my sins. I remember now that he had convicted me
in the past but that I had resisted until conviction left me. I said to the
Lord, "I will not fight conviction now if it kills me right on the spot."
The Lord took me at my word; he knew I meant what I said with all my heart.
I arose from my knees, and walked toward the house, with such a deep
realization of God's displeasure on my lost soul that it seemed as if the
earth would open and swallow me up. I shall never forget that awful
experience. I think I fully comprehended God's displeasure against
rebellious souls, but in his wrath he remembered mercy, and I found myself
seeking God with all my heart. I could not weep, but my heart was sincere
and deeply determined to seek God until I should know that I was saved.