'. ('- > I LIBRT^IIY OF THE Theological Seminary, 1 PRINCETON, N. J. BR 1725 .G724 B74 1849 Graham, Mary Jane, 1803- SJ 1830. Bi Life and works of Miss Mary Jajie Graham ... % ^^^.^ LIFE AND WORKS MISS MARY JANE GRAHAM, LATE OF STOKE FLEMING, DEVON. REV. CHARLES 6rIDGES, M.A. FROM THE SIXTH LONDON EDITION, NEW YORK: ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS No. 285 BROADWAY. 1849. ROBERT CRAIGHEAD, PRINTER, 112 rULTON STREET PREFACE The Writer did not enjoy the privilege of personal acquaintance ■svith the subject of this Memoir. But when the materials, both of incident and manuscript, were placed in his hands, he could not but feel that many subjects of valuable interest and importance might be brought out with advantage to the church. He has been constrained to com- pensate for the paucity of incident by the introduction of large extracts from her writings and correspondence, which, however, will be often found to afford instructive developments of the character of her mind, and the principles of her profession. If he should be thought, by the extension of his own remarks, to have occasionally transgressed the bounds of a biographer, he can only cast himself upon the indulgence of his reader, in the exercise of his important responsibility, in availing himself of this opportunity to offer a few suggestions of Christian love upon subjects of present and most anxious interest in the church of God. Such as his work is, the Writer desires to commend it to the blessing of the great Head of the Church, trusting that the example of the highly-gifted and consecrated character here set forth, may reflect the glory of His adorable name, and quicken the energies of those who bear that name upon their profession, to aspire to a more elevated standard of Christian devotedness and privilege. Old Newton Vicarage, ^ Jiilif 16, 1832. \ ADVERTISEMENT SECOND EDITION, The interest that has been excited by the following Memoir, has in- duced the Writer, after having exhausted the materials Avith which he had been previously furnished, to investigate fresh sources of informa- tion, by which he might bring forth the proper individualities of Miss Graham's chai-acter, and the circumstantials of her life into more dis- tinct and detailed exhibition. This object he has been enabled to ac- complish, by a selection from licr own letters, as well as from com- munications readily furnished by her family and friends. He has added also a few of such extracts from her manuscript, as were likely to be ff-enerally acceptable, and prefixed a portrait, taken about four years before her death, whicli it was thought would increase the interest of the work. He now once more commits it to God and his church, with the desire that it may reflect — not the honor of the creature — but the glory of the Saviour. Old Ncwfmi Vicarage, "i March 9, 1833. S CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Her early life . . • • • CHAPTER II. Her relapse into infidelity PAGE 7 . 14 CHAPTER III. General sketch of Miss Graham's life— her views of STUDY extensive ATTAINMENTS AND ACTIVE DEVOTED- ness to God ....•••• CHAPTER n. FrRTHER EXTRACTS FROM HER WRITINGS AND CORRESrON- dence ...•••••• I. On the great doctrines of the gospel 11. On subjects OF thkological discussion III. On christian experience and practical religion IV. On miscellaneous subjects .... 22 48 48 6C 92 138 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. PAGE Different viewj? and features in Miss Graham's charac- ter . . . . • 1(5(5 CHAPTER VI. Her illness and death . . , . . . .189 CHAPTER Vn. Remarks •......,.. 205 MEMOIR OF MISS MARY JANE GRAHAM. CHAPTER I. HER EARLY LIFE. " The works of the Lord are great ; sought out of all the?n that have pleasure therein.''' Elevated indeed is the Christian's pleas- ure'^ in "seeking out the great works" of creation. But it is the work of " redemption," which mainly attracts his dehghted contem- plation^* as tlie mirror in which the glory of his God and Saviour is most fully unveiled before him. The " new creation"^ on the heart of man is one grand division of this perfect work of God : and often does its display of " the beauty of holiness" constrain the world to a reluctant acknowledgment, and excite the church to joyful adoration— " What hath^God wrought '."^ For not only will the Redeemer's glory be manifested in his saints at the blissful era of his coming*^— not only will they then be seen " as the jewels"^ of his everlasting crown ; but even now are they " the glory of his inheritance"— -set forth for the conviction of the world—" that they may see, and know, and consider, and understand together, that the hand of the Lord hath done this, and that the Holy one of Israel hath created it."s It is the object of the following sketch to bring forth to view one of these striking manifestations of divine power and grace, and to illustrate, in connection with this memorial, some of those edifying and instructive lessons which it will be seen to present before us. Mary Jane Graham was born in London, April 11, 1803. Her father was engaged in a respectable business, from which he retired a few years before his daughter's death (and chiefly from regard to her dehcate health,) to the village of Stoke Fleming, near Dartmouth, Devon. She appears to have been the subject of early religious • Psalm cxi. 2. Compare Bishop Home's beautiful note. . , „ r « 2 Ps. xix. 1. Compare Rom. 1. 20. ^ ib. cxi. 2, with 3 5, 9. i 2 Cor. iv. 6 ; v. 17. Eph. ii. 10. ^ Numbers xxiu. 23 « 2 Thess. i. 10. ■? Mai. iii. 17. » Eph. i. 18. Isa. xh. 19, 20. O MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM, convictions. At the age of seven she had acquired those habits of secret prayer, which may be considered a favorable mark of divine influence upon her soul. But we will give the history of this era of her life in lier own words. To a friend who had evinced some incredulity of the genuineness or permanency of early impressions of religion, she thus writes : March, 20, 1827. 'You appear, my dear friend, to think very early piety too won- derful a thing to be true. It is wonderful — so wonderful, that, when David was contemplating the starry firmament, he was drawn for a moment from his meditation on the wonders he there beheld, by the still greater wonder of '' God's ordaining strength out of the mouths of babes and sucklings."^ But David's wonder and yoms were of a very different nature — he wondered and adored. Jesus, too, that "man of sorrows" once "rejoiced in spirit," because God "had hid these things from the wise and prudent, and revealed them unto babes. Even so. Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight. "'^ ' Even so. Lord Jesus ; in thy rejoicing will I too rejoice ; let the world think me a fool or an enthusiast, or beside myself, as they thought thee.' The story of 'Little Henry and his Bearer,' to which I believe you allude, I have been assured by Miss , is every word of it true. Do not then bring upon yourself the dreadfiil sin of limiting the power of the Holy One of Israel. Jesus has said, "Suffer little children to come ;"3 and they will come, if he calls them. As facts are the strongest of all proofs, bear with me a little longer, while I tell you briefly the history of a child, for the truth of which I can vouch. I knew a little girl, about sixteen years and a half ago. She was much like other children, as full of sin and vanity as ever she could hold : and her parents had not as yet taken much pains to talk to her about religion. So she went on in the way of her own evil heart, and thought herself a very good little girl, because she said her prayers every night and mor- ning, and was not more passionate, wilful, and perverse, than most of her young companions. The God of love did not think this sinful child too young to learn of Jesus. He so ordered it about the time I am speaking of, when she was just seven years old, that she was led by a pious servant into some alms-houses belonging to Rowland Hill, who had just been preaching in them. The servant and an aged woman entered into a long conversation together, to which the little girl listened, and wondered what could make them like to talk about such things. But at the close of it, the old woman took the child affectionately by the hand, and said to her — ' My dear child, make the I^ord Jesus your friend now that you are so young: and when you come to be as old as I am, He'll never leave you nor forsake you. God the Spirit sent these simple words to the ' Psalm viii. 1 — 1. - Luke X. 21. This, though not the direct, is an inclusive meaning of the declaration, 3 Mark x. 11. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 9 poor sinful child's lieait. She walked home in silence by her nurse's side, thinking how she could get Jesus to be her friend. Then she remembeied how often she had slighted this dear Saviour ; how she had read of him in the Bible, and been wearied of tiie subject : how she had heard the minister preach about Jesus, and wished the long dry sermon over ; how she liad said prayers to Him without minding what she said; how she had passed clays, weeks, and months, without thinking of him ; how she had loved her play, her books, and her toys, and her play-fellows— all, all better than Jesus. Then the Holy Spirit convinced her of sin. She saw that no one good thing dwelt in her, and that she deserved to be cast away from God forever. Would Jesus lov^e her now ? Would he ever forgive her? She feared not; but she would try. She would make herself very good, and then, perhaps, Jesus, would be her friend. But the more this little girl tried to be good, the more her naughty heart got the better of her ; for she was trying in her own strength. She was led to give up trying in that way ; and many long nights did she spend in praying " with strong crying and tears" to Jesus that he would teach her how to get her sins pardoned, and make her tit to have Him for her friend. Let me mention it for the encouragement of those who seek Jesus, that He did not dis- dain to listen to the prayers of this little child. He put it into her heart to read the Bible, of which, though she understood not all, yet she gathered enough to give her some comfort. One day lier attention was fixed on these words — '-The Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.'" Now something that could take away sin was just what this little girl wanted : and she asked lier father to tell her who this Lamb of God was. He explained to her this precious verse. But who can describe the raptures which filled the bosom of this little child, when made to comprehend that the "blood of Jesus cleanseth from all sin." Now she fled to Jesus indeed. Now she knew that He had loved her, and given himself for her; now the Spirit of God, who often ''chooseth the weak and foolish things of the world, to confound the wise and mighty,"" "shed abroad the love of God in the heart''^ of a weak and foolish child, and " filled her with peace and joy in believing."* She had no one whom she could talk to of these things. But she held sweet converse with her reconciled God and Father : and gladly would she have quitted this life to go and dwell with Jesus. Since then she has spent nearly seventeen years of mingled happiness and pain. But she has had Jesus for her friend ; and He never has, and never will forsake her.^ She has forsaken Him more than once for a season, and turned to follow the vain things of the world. But her Shepherd's eye has been over her in her wanderings, and He has never suffered her ciuite to depart from HiuK To this day, her vain and treacherous heart is continually leading her to provoke her heavenly friend. "He visits her transgressions with t!ie rod, 1 John i. 29. 2 i Cor. i. 27. 3 Rom. v. 5. < lb. xv. t3. s Heb. xiii. 5. 10 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. and her iniquity with stripes ;" but he has sworn never to " take his loving kindness from her, nor to suffer his faithfuhiess to fail."' She is constrained to acknowledge, that during all this time she has never done one thing that could merit God's favor. Free grace, free mercy, are all her song ; " It is of the Lord's mercy she has not long ago been consumed.'"* She is quite sure she could never have changed her own heart. No ; God has begun the good work in her, and he must carry it on ; and from first to last, let glory be ascribed to Him, and let her take the shame and confusion to herself. At this moment she desires to live, if she may be made the means of converting one sinner to Jesus ; but if not, she would rather " depart and be with Christ, which is far better." She is far from despising earthly blessings. Every morsel she puts into her mouth, the very air she breathes, is made sweet and refreshing by the loving hand that sends it. Once there was a curse on all her earthly blessings. But now " Christ hath redeemed her from the curse of the law, being made a curse for her."^ She would give it as her living experience, and leave it when she goes hence as her dying testimony, that there is nothing worth living for except to know Him, and see others come to Him, and wash their guilty souls in the blood of the Lamb. God has given her the blessing of seeing a happy change take place in some of the dear companions of her childhood and youtli. She waits upon him for the salvation of the rest ; and there is no one, whom she longs after more ardently in the Lord, than that dear and valued friend of her earliest days, to whom this letter is addressed ; and to whom she wishes every spiritual blessing, that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost can bestow, now and for evermore: Amen and Amen.' Some apparent discrepancy may be observed between this ex- quisitely beautiful and natural letter and her published account of this important crisis.^ Perhaps some readers may suspect the let- ter to be somewhat tinctured with the spirit of her subsequent ex- perience. Though, however, the apprehensions of Divine truth which it expresses, were indeed clear and enlivening, far beyond the average of spiritual capacity of children ; yet her ' view of many ol the doctrines of Christianity,' which she afterwards so fully devel- oped and so richly enjoyed, was at this time ' very indistinct.'^ Doubtless also nmch of natural feehng and excitement was min- gled with these early impressions of religion ; while what was of a spiritual character, as she afterwards discovered, was not sufficient- ly grounded upon that sense of universal guilt and helplessness which prostrates the sinner at the foot of the cross, simply depend- ■ent upon a free salvation.*' This superficial cast of impression — without invalidating the reality of a Divine change — will ac- count for the instability which marked her early course in the ways • Psalm Ixxxix. 32, 33. 2 Lam. iii. 22. 3 Gal. iii. 13. 1 Test of Truth. By Mary Jane Graham. (Seeleys.) 5 Test of Truth. « Test of Truth. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 11 of God. From her own history we learn that she ' was enabled to walk with God in sincerity, and without any considerable declen- sion during the greater part of her childhood, and the commence- ment of a riper age." After this period, however, ' more than once,' as her letter informs us, she ' forsook' her heavenly Friend, ' turned to follow the vain things of the world,' and " went on frowardly in the way of her own heart" — " leaning to her own understandi|;ig," and led captive in her own folly. Of (his period future notice will be given. Meanwhile we revert to her early years as spent under the roof of her parents or at school. Her parents considered her virtues as those of every day — that is, habitual— and not merely called forth on particular occasions. She was a most amiable, affectionate, and dutiful child, seldom need- ing correction, tender-hearted when told of her faults, and by her general kindness of disposition attaching all the members of the household to herself. She was remarkably free from selfishness ; always ready to yield to her companions, even to deprive herself of what she valued. Her little pocket-money was generally reserved for some object of distress, or for some token of affection to a friend. Her quickness of mind was a subject of early observation. Her reading was chiefly obtained by attending to the lessons which were given to her brother, then preparing for school. She was seldom seen without a book in her hand, and seemed never so happy as when employing herself in the improvement of her mind. Yet this thoughtful cast of character was by no means tinged with un- natural gloom. In all the harmless games of childhood none of her companions excelled her in playful activity ;^ while in the midst of her cheerful temperament, it was abundantly evident that the main concern of religion was uppermost in her mind. ' I recollect,' — her cousin writes, — ' that when were quite little children, she made some attempt to talk to me about religion — once especially, when we were sitting behind the curtain in the drawing room at . I did not like the subject, and therefore walked away, and joined my more worldly-minded companions.' Her school career commenced soon after she was seven years old. She was however shortly removed, from ill health, and again, about the age of ten, sent to a school of a different kind. Many of her companions, who survive her, will probably long preserve the re- membrance of that peculiar kindness and gentleness of spirit, which combined with her superior powers. One of them remarks her great carefulness to screen, as far as it was lawful to do so, the faults of her fellows, and her anxiety to plead for them when in disgrace: and so powerful was her advocacy, that her preceptress was con- strained to remove out of her way, when her judgment compelled her to persevere in her discipline. In all the school difficulties, she was the constant resource, ever ready and willing to assist, without > Test of Truth. 2 One of her early friends however remarks, that her games and manner of amusing partook more of imagination and of genius than those of the generality of children. 12 MEMOIK OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. any assumption upon the ground of her acknowledg-ed superioritj-. One trait of peculiar loveliness was here exhibited, (the spirit of which was marked on various occasions in after-Hfe,) in her con- sideration of any of her companions, who, from any unfavorable causes, might appear to be neglected. These were the objects of her particular notice, and with them she shared all her Uttle indul- gences. Her religious impressions appear to have been cherished by the familiar exhortations of the husband of lier preceptress, and by de- votional exercises with those of her companions, who were living xmder the practical influence of their Christian instruction. To one of them she proposed to learn every day a portion of Scripture in private, and to repeat it to each other when they retired to rest. At this time she committed to memory the whole of the Prophecy of Isaiah, besides other portions of the sacred volume. At the age of twelve her delicate health again occasioned her re- moval from school. Her illness lasted for about two months, during which lime, when confined upon the sofa, she committed to memory the whole Book of Psalms Indeed her powers of memory were of an extraordinary order. She was much delighted with Milton's Paradise Lost, and had learnt the greater part, if not the whole, of that magnificent poem. For many successive mornings she re- peated to her father most correctly upwards of three hundred lines each morning. Upon her recovery from illness she passed several months with a careful servant by the sea-side. So instinctive were her habits of active usefulness, that she employed herself, though only in her thirteenth year, in collecting a few children for the pur- pose of instruction, and in distributing tracts. In returning home to her parents, she enjoyed with them the rich and responsible priv- ilege of the ministry of the late Rev. Samuel Crowther, Vicar of Christ Church, Newgate Street -an eminent "watchman of Eph- raim," now with his God.' Under his faithful and affectionate in- struction she was brought to the ordinance of Confirmation about the age of sixteen, and publicly "joined herself to the Lord in a perpetual covenant never to be forgotten."^ These interesting notices of Miss Graham's early life may sug- gest a few profitable remarks. Let Christian parenis be excited to an immediate and "perse- vering discharge of their anxious responsibilities. Early im- pressions are of the highest moment in reference to the future course of their children. Let them be prayed for, expected, cher- ished. They cannot be too early or too urgent in presenting (after the example of the believing parents of old) the petition of the angel of the covenant — " How shall we order the child, and how shall we do unto him ?"' They can scarcely fix the precious seed too soon into the fre^h soil. The pure simplicity of the rudiments of the Gospel is specially suited to the dawn of infant intelligence; and ' Hosoa ix. 8. 2 Jeremiah 1. 5. 3 Judges xiii. 12, with 18. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 13 well would it be, if our child ten should never be able to lecur iu after life to the time, when these vital truths were first presented to their minds. The child's intellect opens faster than is coaunoaly considered. The first impressions often retain a firm and perma- nent grasp through life. And abundantly has the experience of the Church testified — that early piety is eminent piety.' It mai/ appear suspicious,'^ that so little shade is discoverable upon the records of Miss Graham's childhood. But defects can- not be noticed, where they were not observed. Probably our own sphere of observation, if not our immediate circle, may be furnislied with similar cases, sufficient to preclude an unwarranted incredu- lity. And indeed these instances often afford the most striking illustrations of the total depravity of the fall. For while Miss Graham was in the estimation of her parents all that their fond hearts could wish— what was she in the sight of God? Self- knowledge under Divine teaching soon discovered to her, that under this attractive garb was hid the mighty principle of aliena- tion of heart from God. There was no natural preparation for heavenly influence. It was only a more lovely appearance of the death that reigned within. Her subsequent expressions therefore of self-abhorrence were not the ebulitions of a false humility, or of misguided fanaticism, but the genuine conviction of the Spirit of God upon her heart. The subject of our history suggests also the importance of an earlij excitement of the principles of active usefulness. No doubt Miss Graham's habits of early activity had an important influence in maturing her character for the high privilege of devoting herself to the interests of her fellow-creatures. It was Cotton Mather's practice to endeavor to enlarge the minds of his children, by en- gaging them daily in some ' Essay to do good.' He encouraged and commended them, when he saw them take pleasure in it, and never failed to show them that a backwardness would subject them to his displeasure.2 This example cannot be too strongly incul- cated. To present to children an object beyond themselves, would tend much to counteract the natural principle of selfisbness, so bane- ful to their personal happiness, and to their intellectual, moral, and spiritual improvement. At the same time, to give this habit its full effectiveness, it is necessary, that these ' Essays to do good,' should be acted out under the influence of self-denial, in the rehnquishmetit of their own indulgences, for the benefit of the objects of their kind consideration. 1 'Barker's Parent's Monitor' gives a useful digest of information well calculated to guide the instructor, and to encourage the diligence and patient perseverance of parental faith. The principles of Christian Education are brought out with much simplicity and practical detail in the valuable and well-known works of Mrs. Hoarc and Mr. Babington, which cannot be too highly recommended. Perhaps the most full and inter- estino- illustration of these principles will be found in the Bioijraphios of the Heriry tam- ily, (Lives of P. and M. Henry, and Mrs. Savage and Hulton,) by Mr. Williams, ot Shrewsbury, and a valuable volume recently published—' Domestic Portraiture —con- taining the'records of several of the late Rev. Lcgh Richmond"s children. 2 See Cotton Mather's Life, abridged by iVIr .Jennings. It is published also, Vol. I. of an admirable series of Christian Biography, by the Religious Tract Society. CHAPTER II HER RELAPSE INTO INFIDELITY. About the age of seventeen, Miss Graham's mind underwent a most extraordinary revokition. She fell, for a few months, from the heavenly atmosphere of communion with God, into the dark and dreary regions of infidelity. Allusion has already been made to this afflicting circumstance, in her letter.^ But for a most inter- esting and graphic detail, the reader must be referred to her own published account;^ some digest of which will here be given, in order to connect the thread of her history, and to exhibit a clear view of one of the most important eras in her life. Miss Graham's mind at this time began to open in a metaphys- ical form — unfavorable to a simple reception of truth. And this, connected with a defective apprehension of her lost state, induced a spirit of self-dependence — one of the most subtle and successful hindrances to the Christian life.^ Thus was the way opened to a secret habit of backsliding from God. The foolish vanities of the world for a while captivated her heart ; and her manners were re- marked to be like those of other thoughtless girls of her own age. From frivohty she sought refuge in her more solid intellectual pur- suits. All sources of self-gratification within her power were re- ported to with the fruitless attempt of obtaining peace in a course of departure from God. Wearied at length with disappointment, this prodigal child " began to be in want :" and many a wishful eye did she cast towards the rich provision of her Father's forsaken house. ^ In turning, however, to religion for con)fort, she found, to use her own words — 'Alas! I had no religion: I had refused to give glory to the Lord my God ; now my feet were left to stumble upon the dark mountains."' The doctrine of the Divinity of Christ had often been to her, (as • ' She had forsaken him mare than once,' evidentl}' includes a reference to this history. In the recollection however of her complete restoration, she added — ' He has never suf- fered her quite (i. e. altogether andjinall'j) to depart from Him.' 2 Test of Truth. 3 She alludes to an injury which her own mind, in common (as she conceives) with many others, had received from adopting Doddridge's form of covenanting with God. (See his Rise and Progress, Chapter xvii.) This was in her thirteenth year. Let it how- ever be remembered, that, though this mode of dedication may have frequently ministered to a legal spirit, yet it by no means necessarily partakes of an evangelical character. This "subscribing of the hand unto the Lord," has been found by many eminent Christians, (as, for example, Philip Henry's family,) to be a cord of love, not a yoke of bondage. A touching and expressive record of this character, from the pen and heart of the Rev. R. Hall, is given by Dr. Gregory. Allusion is probably made to it as an acceptable ordi- nance in the service of the Gospel. Isaiah xliv. 3 — 5. 1 Luke XV. 14, 17. 5 Test of Truth. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 15 to many other minds cast into the same mould) an occasion of per- plexity. Now it was •' a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence." Though repeated examination had fully satisfied her that it was the truth of the Bible ; yet so repulsive was it to her proud heart, that she was led from thence to question the truth of the Bible it- self. ' I suspected' — said she — ' that a system of religion which in- volved such apparent absurdities, could not possibly come from God. Determining to sift the matter to the utmost, I eagerly acquainted myself with the arguments for and against Christianity. My un- derstanding was convinced that the Scriptures were Divine. But my heart refused to receive the conviction. The more my reason ivas compelled to assent to their truth, the more I secretly disliked the doctrines of the BibleJ^ Continued resistance to convictions was the natural and melan- choly result of this inquiry. She determined to lay the subject aside for a while, still ' persuading herself that there must be flaws in the evidence of so strange a history,' which only her want of ma- turity of judgment; prevented her from discovering. Those early religious impressions, that usually form a bulwark against infidelity, in her case proved a stumbling-block to her faith. Ignorant of the native bias of her heart against the Gospel, she considered them as the effect of prejudice, before her mind had been intelligently in- formed or exercised. She now, therefore, determined to burst her chains, and to think and examine for herself Hitherto she had confined he-r perplexities within her own bosom; partly dreading the influence of^xternal bias, and partly fearing to infuse into another's mind doubts concerning a book, which, she could not conceal from herself, might after all be true. She en- deavored now to strengthen her mind by pursuing a course of in- tellectual study, with the direct design of preserving herself from becoming a dupe to "cunningly-devised fables." And here she did not fail subsequently to acknowledge the special forbearance and wisdom of her Heavenly Father. Justly might He have deprived her of that reason, which she had so presumptuously set up in his own place. Yet was he pleased to overrule this waywardness of his child, as an ultimate means of her restoration, in applying her course of mental discipline to the effectual discovery of the fallacies with which she was now deluded. The immediate effect however of these studies was decidedly in- jurious. Their absorbing interest diverted her mind from the main subject of inquiry ; while they proved also a temporary refuge against the uneasy disturbance of her conscience. Even her inter- vals of reflection were too easily soothed by tlie indefinite postpone- inent of the great concern to "a more convenient season." Occa- sional conviclioas were indeed felt, but without any permanent or practical influence. Through the Divine mercy, this state of infatuation did not prove 'Test of Truth. 16 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. of long duration. After a few months' captivit}^, she was brought, though not without severe conflict of mind, to tlie full Hght and hberty of scri[)tural truth.' The conviction of the being of a God, in her darkest moments had never wholly forsaken her. A few hours' contemplation of the starry heavens darted into her mind a piercing reflection upon her stupidity and ingratitude, in what she justly called an ' unnatural and parricidal attempt to banish God from his own creation, to depose him from his natural supremacy over her heart.'' Her whole hfe now appeared to her (what in- deed the Scriptures declare it to be), one continued act of sin and folly. Her convictions, however, of sin — being wholl}' un- connected with an}^ discovery of the way of forgiveness — natu- rally tended to despondency. Every fresh sense of the corrup- tion of her heart, and of the unsullied purity of the Divine char- acter, brought with it a corresponding sense of guilt. She could expect, therefore, nothing but punishment proportioned to the infi- nite sinfulness of her offence. She could not conceive the consist- ency of her forgiveness with the claims of Divine justice ; and the alternative of her eternal punishment seemed even less dreadful than the supposition of any inconsistency in Him, who, in her view, was the perfection of holiness. 'I had acquired' — she remarked — 'such a perception of the beauty of holiness, that the thought of an imholy God was worse than liell to me. I felt that I had rather God should pour on me all the vials of his wrath, than that, car- ried away by an unworlhy softness and weakness, he shoidd for- give, and thereby encourage sin. "To undergo eternal punishment was horrible. To acknowledge an vnholy God was more hor- rible.''^ As her last expedient, her despised Bible was brought to mind. And 'how different' — she observes— ' was the temper of mind, in which I now addressed myself to its perusnl, from lliat in which T had read it in the commencement of my disbelief of Christianity ! I was no longer a proud sophist, triumphing in the strength and penetration of human reason, and in the comprehensiveness of hu- man knowledge. The contemplation of my own ignorance, weak- ness, and wickedness, had laid my pride in the dust. My eyes were opened to view myself as I really was — depraved and blinded in my reason, judgment, and understanding. Ajid this is the process, she adds, which mnst take place in the soul of every man, before he can purs2ie the search after truth hi a right spirit.'''^ Her interest was early directed to the promises of Divine teaching to the sincere inquirer after truth. Their suitableness fixed her attention. Their freeness encouraged her heart. "Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find. He giveth his Holy ' It mny he remarked, that severe providential afflictions about this period concurred with the exercises of her own mind, to awaken her mind to this se'.f-abasing recollection of her fearful departure from God. 2 Test of Truth, p. lb. Compare Romans i. 20, 21, 28. 3 ib. lv imbued with the rrlowing principles of the Gospel. It will remind the reader of some of Mr. Scott's painful exercises of mind described ni his ' Force of Truth;' and of the argument so successfully handled by Bishop Burnet in his disputations with Lord Rochester. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. J9 Pride of intellect in Miss Graham's case, was evidently one main cause of lier departure from God. When her mind left the strong- hold of faith, her scriptural light, which could only be apprehended through spiritual optics, became obscured, until she was gradually left to the Egyptian darkness of her own understantiing. And this we apprehend to be a very usual commencement of an infidel course, upon principles equally opposed to reason and to revelation. Man, in his prurient desire to pass the bounds of revelation, forgets that while " the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children," the " secret things" are no less the property of God.' As he has, therefore, reserved them for himself, this " intrusion into the things which we have not seen," and cannot see, is the unhallowed indulgence of a " fleshly mind."^ The extent and pre- cise boundaries of revelation are determined by infinite wisdom ; and could we discern them with a single eye, they would be found equally illustrative of a high regard to the happiness of man. A more expanded view under present circumstances would only increase instead of clearing up our difficulties. The eye would wander over the field of infinite space with a disproportioned power of perception. The objects, therefore, would be less distinctly appre- hended ; and the result would leave us more restless and dissatis- fied, while the happy influence of humility, simplicity, and faith had been wholly disregarded. If we have not the whole view before us, let it suffice that we have all that is needful for our hapiness and present duty. The attempt to supply what we conceive to be wanting, by the conjectural effort of reason, would be to suliject " vain man" to his Maker's merited rebuke — " Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge 7"^ Every step of advance beyond the divine record is fraught with danger and uncer- tainty. "In God's light" alone "can we see light. "^ The intel- lectual " light that is in us," when apphed by the pride of man to the contents of revelation — " is darkness ; and how great is that darkness !'"^ Simple faith, therefore, however mistaken or despised, may justly be deemed the highest act of reason ; while rational religion, ' falsely so called,' may easily be proved to be of all schemes the most irrational.^ » Deut. xxix. 29. 2 Col. ii. 18. 3 Job. xxxviii. 2. * Psalm xxxvi. 9. 5 Matt. vi. 23, with 1 Cor. ii. 14. fi The writer cannot forbear to add some admirable remarks from an unpublished man- uscript of Miss Graham's, shortly to be noticed. ' It is true that faith compels our assent to many things beyond the reach of reason, even of the renewed reason. But this im- plicit credence is itself the highest and noblest exercise of the understanding. It is a reasonable assent to the testimony of One, in whom we repose unlimited confidence, be- cause we have reasonable grounds for concluding him to be infinitely wiser than our- selves. An exercise of the reason is pre-supposed, whereby we arc assured that the Bible is God's testimony; and an act of the understanding, whereby, havinrr obtained this as- surance, we infer, that every word of the Biltle must be true. The divine philosophy of faith, then, sets out upon these two propositions. The first an assurance, founded in reason, that the Bible is the revelation of God. Thesecond an inference, equally founded in reason, that every word of the Bible is true; and must therefore be taken in preference to all the deductions of our own reason, which may or may nothc true. Neither of these propositions is shaken by the fact, that the Bible contains many things which we do not 20 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. We would add a few words upon the connection of wfidelitij rvith the state of the heart. We are not exclusively intellectual beings. The afiections so materially influence the judgment, as often to incapacitate it for the accurate discernment of truth. The natural bias of the heart is to sin, and consequently to infidelity, the excuse and covering for sin. The point at issue is, whether men shall remain the servants of sin, or become the servants of God — whether they shall be degraded as sensual beings, or raised to the elevation of intelligent or spiritual existence. Now, as the Gospel stands in the way of natural indulgence, it must be removed. So that if a course of infidel reading or intercourse with scoffers, has not furnished the necessary arguments, they must be invented from the man's own heart. The danger of infidelity is not, therefore, confined to the ungodly and profane. Every unconverted man must secretly wish the Bible to be untrue ; and under this bias he will (except restrained by an Almighty power) endeavor to prove it untrue. A wrong state of heart, as with Miss Graham, gives the power and advantage to this active and malignant principle. In her early state of child-lilce simplicity she would have been safe. But the " fulfilment of the desires of the mind," probably more than of "the flesh,"^ combined with ignorance of "Satan's devices," brought her into his snare ; and she was " taken captive by him at his will."2 Depending upon the teaching of the Spirit of God, our " path" in divine knowledge will be "as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."^ And 'whenever' (as an original and powerful writer remarks) he opens the Scrip- tures, that same light that discovers the meaning, will not fail to affect and make our hearts burn within us with the sense of divine light, authority, and power. Of this the experience of the people of God, as they grow in knowledge, furnishes them daily with new instances ; and therefore they do not stumble at the want of the present sense of that light, but are quickened to diligence, excited to frequent cries for opening of their eyes, that they may under- stand the wonders, that by the knowledge of other parts of the world, they are induced to believe couched in those parts, which yet they know not.'* understand ; or in other words, that God may know many thincrs that we do not know; that many lliinjrs may appear to His infinitely holy and unclouded understanding, in a very different li^ht from that, in which they are viewed by our narrow and prejudiced minds. When Uie first proposition is once proved to the entire satisfaction of the mind, the second must follow of course. Then faith, an implicit, child-like faith, becomes the only rational mode of proceedinsr. Every departure from this faith is a dey)arture from reason; an insult to the understanding; a violation of common sense. And that we do make such departures, only tends to prove that, while the renewed understanding "con- sents to the law of God that it is holy, just, and good," " the law of sin," which is yet workin .Tohn. vi. 37, 44, 65. 2 Art. X. Freeness of Grace, pp. 2S— 30, 33—36, 37. 3 See Article X, and the multiplied testimonies from her Collects and other parts of our Evangelical services. Compare John xv. 5. Ephesians ii. 1. * Compare John vi. 37, with 44, 65. ^ Isaiah xxvi. 12. « Philippians ii. 13. ^ Ibid. ii. 12, 13. §8 MEMOIR OF MARV JANE GRAHAM. The uiisciiptural use of the term condition with many theologians — as if man could of himself perform tlie work of his salvation — has brought it into unmerited disrepute. Yet in Miss Graham's view, conditional promises uUimately resolve themselves into abso- lute unconditional love. The duties of Christian obedience — ^the di- vinely appointed means of enjoying the promises — do not depend upon anything to be fulfilled by us. They constitute a part of the engagements of the evangelical covenant, by which the Lord ful- fils the demands of his law, by the Almighty power of his grace.* Miss Graham with many excellent men would altogether abolish the use of the term, at least as applied to us. But it has been al- lowed by many of our most orthodox divines,^ whose statements cannot justly be accused of infringing upon the freeness of the Gospel. It would be difficult to substitute any other theological term, that would express the sense of many important declarations^ of Scripture with equal precision and appropriateness. Let it be understood to imply — not what is meritorious, but what is necessary to the economy of the Gospel — not an efficient cause, but an indis- pensable requisite. Is it not then needless scrupulosity to exchange a convenient term of explication for feeble circumlocution? And may there not be some danger, lest in our anxiety to preserve the freeness of scriptural statement, we unconsciously become fettered in the bonds of human systems ? Her letter upon the nature and degree of explicit faith neces- sary for acceptance ivith God is highly interesting. ' The question you propose about prayer, does not appear to me to admit of a doubt. ' Ought there not to be in every prayer a reference to the intercession of Christ? Will the earnestness and siyicerity of a prayer avail without it?' Doubtless, my dearest friend, there ought to be this reference : nor can a believer in Jesus imagine a prayer without it. But when an unbeliever first begins to long after the knowledge of God, the intercession of Christ may be a part of this knowledge, respecting which he is in utter dark- ness. Shall the earnest and sincere petition which he offers under such circumstances be disregarded? Is not the intercession of Christ going on for him as surely as if he knew of it; and is not this poor ignorant prayer the first-fruits of this intercession ? And will not the Father accept it for the sake of his beloved Son, though the sinner as yet knows not how to offer it in his name? Certain I am, that the person who thus begins to seek after the Lord with his whole heart, will ere long have .lesus revealed in his soul ; and then he will seek in the name of Jesus. The most signal answer I ever received to prayer, was at a time, when I was so bewildered in the labyrinth of infidelity, ihat I actually should have feared to have been guilty of blaspliemy, had I prayed in the name of Jesus. * Hebrews viii. 10. Thus in Matthew vi. 14, 15, by his law he requires a forgiving temper ; by his ffrace he imparts it. 2 Calvin, Owen, &c. » Such as Matthew vi. 14, 15. Luke xiii. 3, 5. Col. i. 21—23. Heb. iii. 6, 14. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 69 In sincerity and earnestness I prayed to be taught whether Jesus Christ was an impostor or not ; and for the sake of that precious Saviour, whom I thus insultingly doubted, my prayer was an- swered.' 'But our experience is of little value, unless it agrees with Scrip- ture. I think the Bible is very clear upon this head, and there- fore I venture to speak so confidently. I will mention two or three texts : •' He that coineth to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diU^ently seek hiniy^ Is not this a description of the degree of faith and knowledge, which is neces- sary before a person can come and pray to God in an acceptable manner'/ And is not this the sum of it, that he must believe (hat there is a God, and that, if he diligently seeks this God, he shall be rewarded by finding the object of his search ? There is not a word about — ' He that cometh to God must believe and pray through the intercession of Christ ;' though no doubt the person who believes so far as is mentioned in the text, will soon believe God in Christ, as he is revealed in the Gospel. So then, if a Pagan or Mahomedan in the darkest corner of the earth, or an infidel in this country, were to begin to seek God diligently, from the mere " belief that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him," upon the warrant of this text I should have no doubt of his accept- ance.' Again, " If any man will {or wishes to) do the will of God, he shall knoio of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or tchether I speak of myself''^ Here is the case supposed of a man, who, so far from praying in the name of Jesus, is not yet convinced whether his doctrines are divine, or whether he is a mere pretender, " speak- ing- of himself.'''' What then is, the preparation required? He wishes to do the will of God. He would gladly worship God aright, and submit to his will in all things. Yet he cannot pray at first with any reference to the intercession of Jesus. For he would think it sinful to do so, as long as he knows not "whether the doctrine be of God, or whether Jesus Christ spake of himself." Yet this man — we have the word of Jesus for it — " shall know of • See her own interesting description of this state of mind, chap ii. 2 Hebrews xi. 6. 3 This text may, doubtless, be accommodated for intelligent and warranted encourage- ment in the case here presented to us. Yet it may be questioned whether Miss Gra- ham's exposition includes the whole substance of the Apostle's mind. The faith of Cain in bringing his offering probably admitted the naked belief of the existence of God, and of his bounty to those that incjuired after him. The Apostle's definition however stands in immediate connection with the faith of Abel and Enoch, (ver. 4, 5,) which implied access to God, and communion with him through an acceptable medium. Indeed the true faith in God's existence seems necessarily to suppose some relation to him. See Gen. xvii. 1. Exod. iii. 14. The very expectation of reward to sinners deserviiigcondcmnation, must, in a righteous government, be grounded upon some apprehension, however obscure, of a way of favorable acceptance. The desire and act of seeking also supposes some rule to direct our path and warrant our hope — a rule founded upon some new relation between God and his creatures, by which merited judgment is averted, and "mercy rejoiceth against judfrment." * John vii. 17. Doddridge remarks on Acts x. 34, 35, a somewhat parallel text — 'I think this text proves, that God would sooner send an angel to direct pious and upright persons to the knowledge of the Gospel, than suffer them to perish by ignorance of it. 7®- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. the doctrine.'^ Consider also the free and general promise of Christ, that " our heavenly Father will give the Holy Ghost to them that ask him."' Suppose yourself to have been in the state of mind of the text just mentioned, and to have heard this gracious promise. Would you have any thought of any intercession — ^of anytliing be- yond asking 7 And you would probably have asked — ' O my hea- venly Father, give thy Spirit to teach me whether this man is sent by thee, or whether he speaks of himself.'' Suppose for a moment (God forbid that any one should suppose it in reality !) that, after after having offered this prayer sincerely, earnestly, perseveringly, you were at last suffered to perish for lack of knowledge ; that the Holy Spirit for which you asked was not given, because you asked it not, (and how could you ?) in the name of Jesus, the promise would seem to carry with it a want of sincerity, as having a con- dition attached to it, which was concealed from you, and lohich the very nature of your petition incapacitated you from performing., until further knowledge was given. I believe, that, when Christ said — " Ask, and it shall be given you,"'^ he meant what he said, in the literal sense of the word. ' It is remarkable, that asking in the name of Christ, was a doctrine not revealed to the disciples, till shortly before his death, though they must often have prayed before, and that with acceptance. The Lord's Prayer also contains no express reference to this doctrine, though doubtless every Christian in his heart, offers it in the one name, through which he looks for acceptance. Let us take the text above mentioned, to an assembly of Indians. Let us say to them — ' You know not what to think of our doctrine concerning Jesus. You would take him for your Lord and your God, if you were sure that all we say about him is true. We will tell yoa how to find this out. There is a promise in the book, out of which we preach to you, that God " will give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him." The Holy Spirit is given to teach you about Jesus. If you will ask for this teaching, you shall have it ; and then you shall know what to think of our doctrine.' They ask. In the name of .Tesus they cannot ask. For the very point in question, the very thing which they ask God to teach them is, whether the name of Jesus is of any avail or not. They are impelled to ask by a "belief that there is a God, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." Will the promise be made good to them or not? Or will this failing to pray in a manner in wdiich they do not believe (that is — to act contrary to the reason, which God him- self has lighted up within them) annul the engagement, by which God has bound himself, that all that ask should have? Oh! no. This is prayer; and it is praying with precisely that degree of " faith, without which it is impossible to please God." " To every one that hath thus much shall be given, and he shall have abun- dance"3 — he shall be rich in faith. And this is as true to my mind, » Luke xi. 13. 2 ibid. v. 9. 3 Matthew xxv. 29. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. "Jff as clear as any of the promises of God can be. You say — ' Must faith be acting at the time?' I think the degree of faith mentioned in Heb. xi. 6, must. Yet even this, we know, may be a trembUng faith, such as — " If thou canst do ainjthhig — Lord, I beheve : lielp thou mine unbelief.'" But "the day of small things,"^ the first prayers of a hitherto unbelieving sinner have something in them unspeakably iiueresting. And it is so delightful to feel, that the very least of the " small things" comes from God, and implies pardon and heaven, and all those great things, which " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard. "^ that we cannot dwell upon them without transport. This is that " faith, which is as a grain of mustard- seed."^ Wrapped within its minute, dry, and unsightly husk is the embryo of the future tree, which shall expand and "flourish in the courts of our God." Oh ! what a God of wonders ! As we cannot look into the hearts of others, it is hard to know when the prayer is earnest and sincere. But if we could discern this, we might look at such a prayer with the same confident assurance that showers of blessings would follow it, as Elijah knew that there would be "abundance of rain," though there was nothing to be seen but a little cloud like a man's hand.'^ This letter involves a question of much interest and no small difficulty. Miss Graham's sympathy with the case supposed enabled her to fix a conscious grasp upon the subject, and to speak directly to the point with much force and clearness. The instance of the penitent Ninevites,^ ignorant of Ike medium of acceptance^ might have been added to her Scripture illustrations of the argu- ment. And we can scarcely doubt that the cry to a Supreme Being — ' Ens ent'uwi, miserere meV'' — " seeking the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him"^ — may have proved the first dawn of light and love to some awakened consciences in a benighted world. No other way to God than by Christ^ is here supposed, though an unco7iscions approach through him is admitted. For ourselves, however, who have been made acquainted with his precious name, no obligation is more important, no privilege more delightful, than the constant dependence upon it in every step of access to God. It covers all guilt, defilement, ignorance, and infirmities. It assures our confidence in the presence of a God of inflexible justice and unspotted holiness. Our persons and services, in themselves most unsuited to his awful majesty, are presented through this medium, clothed with Divine beauty, and commended in his sight as ." a sweet-smelling savor." A clear knowledge of the person of Christ is therefore necessary as the basis of Christian confidence. The exercise of this confidence will be — not to apprehend him separately » Mark ix. 22, 24. 2 Zech. iv. 10. 3 I Cor. ii. 9. < Matt. xvii. 20. 5 i Kings xviii. 44. ^ Jonah iii. "> ' Author of Being, "have pity;" or perhaps — "/tare mtraj on me'' — coming in the character of a sinner.' 8 Acts xvii. 37. 9 John xiv. 6. •J^ MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. either as God or man, but to make his entire person the object of our trust. This inteUigent and spiritual worship is as superior to mere external service, as the blood of the Son of God, by which we are brought into the capacity for it, is to the vile and corruptible things of earth. The question under consideration, however, requires a wise mix- ture of decision and forbearance to determine its precise limits. While insisting upon the importance of a clear apprehension of Divine truth, we would present the full Scriptural encouragement to souls emerging out of darkness with a simple desire to know the light ; seeking the truth, yet knowing not where to find it. Let them wait in the twilight for the dawning day, humbly, prayerfully, earnestly. Sincerity in the diligent and persevering habit of faith will not be left in darkness. On the other hand, it must be remem- bered, that the influence of the Holy Spirit, needful for every act of faith and prayer, stands in ordinary conjunction with revealed truth.' Let us beware, therefore, lest by broad statements we lose sight of the great fundamentals of the Gospel, and forget that " there is none other name than Christ under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved," and that " life eternal" consists in the knowledge of Him.*^ Let us also carefully connect the general promises of the early dispensation of the Gospel with the more full and clear light subsequently vouchsafed. The direction to which Miss Graham refers— "Ask, seek, and knock"— must ever be linked with the name of Christ. His name is our only warrant to " ask." Himself is the only way to '■ seek :" the only door at which we can "knock" with anv well-grounded hope of acceptance.^ In the neglect of this theology, we should attempt to open a way to heaven without "entering in by the door." We should admit the unscrip- tural supposition of pleasing God " without faith. "^ We sliould endeavor to maintain our complete acceptance with God without the continual application of "the blood of sprinkling."* 'Take heed'— said the excellent Dr. Owen—' lest, while we endeavor to invent new ways to heaven for others, by so doing we lose the true way ourselves.'^ Miss Graham's discussion of the subject, in connection with the experience of the intelligent Christian, is most satisfactory and edi- fying. ' I think I now quite understand you about prayer. My reason for speaking of the beginnings only of prayer was, that 1 thought no confirmed Christian could possibly pray without a reference to the mediation of Christ Jesus. But your observation, that we may pray without immediatelij referring to it, or even thinking directly of it, is very just, as in the case you inention of ejaculatory prayer. But I would" ask you, my dearest friend, is it not an understood 1 spe Gal. iii. 2. ^ Acts iv. 1'2. John xvii. 3. 1 John v. 20. 3 Matt. vii. 7, 8, with John xvi. 23, 24 ; xiv. 0 ; x. 9. . «Heb. xi. 6. 5 Heb. x. 19 -22;xn. 24. « Display of Araiinianism, chap. xi. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 73 matter between us and our heavenly Father, that we are to have all things in the name of Jesus? Would we, if we could, receive even tlie least of our blessings through any other niedium? Is it not the very joy of our hearts to have everything, and do everything through Christ; to believe that the Father loves us for his sake; accepts us in him; hears our prayers, not because they are ours, but because he offers them for us ? And is this fixed, settled, deep- rooted feeling less, wlien in ejaculatory prayer there is no immedi- ate reference to his mediation, than in our larger devotions, when we stop to make out our title more fully, and to dwell upon it more largely? It is delightful and profitable to do this ; but yet I think the intention of our hearts is the same in both cases. If you were asked after one of these short prayers—' How do you expect or wish to be heard?' would you not reply — 'In the only name of my Be- loved !' And would not the heaven of heavens seem less desirable of attainment, if by any possibility we could possess it in our own name, instead of the security of Jesus having entered before us and for us ? I hope I am not wrong, and I am sure I would not object to repealing as often as possible to ourselves and toothers our entire reliance upon his name. But I think, that when his mediation has become the very life and food of our souls, we need not torment ourselves with the fear, that such or such a prayer will not be an- swered, because I did not think of making formal mention of the ground on which I asked. Let me rather say — ' God knows that I would not, if I might, have it answered in any other way. He knows what I mean and constantly desire ; and, if through infir- mity, I may have expressed myself amiss or deficiently, infinite love will not misunderstand me.' If you think I have taken a wrong view, tell me, my dear friend. But I am confirmed in it by this circumstance. When I am in a truly spiritual state, the mediation of Christ is (as it were) so worked up into my being, that I am often (except in stated prayers) not conscious of a direct reference to it at one time more than at another. Yet I think my mind never loses the idea. It is perpetually resting upon this sure anchor of hope. But when I am in a cold and careless state, (as at the present time) I lean upon it with an unstable faith. I am therefore much more often conscious of a direct reference to it. The shortest of my prayers have a sort of formality about them, from the cold repeated reference of the name of my Saviour. I do not know whether this is your case. I had rather have the thing so constantly in my heart, that I scarcely stop explicitly to allude to it, than lose the consciousness of it so often (as I now do) that I am obliged to re- mind myself of it, in order to plead it with God. But I think that in all sincere ejaculations there is an inward, though perhaps almost unconscious, feehng of repose and delight in his name, through which alone we desire to have acceptance with the Father. I fear I have not expressed my meaning intelligibly, I have sent, as you desired, my thoughts without reserve ; though I know too little of the spirit 74 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. and power of prayer to ciualif}^ me to give my sentiments on so im- portant a subject.' Tiie following letter on Prayer to the Holy Spirit, evinces much thought and spirituality. ' 1 feel very incompetent to give you any opinion on the point you mention about the Holy Spirit. Yet I have no doubt whatever in my own mind, that it is both right and desirable to pray to Him separately and distinctly. I should be very much afraid, that the contrary opinion would gradually tend to undermine our faith in the Personality of the Holy Spirit ; unless indeed it is meant by this, that we are to pray to the Triune God only, and not either to the Father, the Son, or the Spirit, considered as separate persons. I have no doubt, as you say, that when we pray to the Father, we do worship this Trinity in Unity ; and perhaps this is the most proper way of addressing our usual petiiions. But it appears to me. that separate addresses are permitted, if not sanctioned iu Scripture. And what I would earnestly contend for, (but that 1 fear I may be meddling " with things too high for me,") is this — If the Father and the Son may be separately addressed ; then, not to allow of a separate address to the Spirit, is to rob him in some measure of his equal glory, and to do away with his Personality. I do not at this moment recollect any direct instances of prayer to the Holy Gliost in the Bible, though I think that there are many in which he would appear to be the person addressed. But if prayer comprehend adoration and thanksgiving, we often address him separately in the Liturgy, when we say — ' Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,' — a form of words, in which we imitate the Seraphim before the Throne, who cry — " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts : the whole earth is fidl of His glory."' The same separate act of worship is surely implied when the four beasts, who rest not day and night, adore the Al- mighty, saying — "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come."^ Jesus commanded to " baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Gliost."^ Here again a separate act of worship seems to be implied. By baptizing in the name of each Person of the Holy Trinity, dis- tinctly and separately repeated, I cannot but understand, that we separately invoke eacJi of them to perform their covenanted part in the redemption of the baptized person. But I think, that it may at once decide the question, that we are said to be '• the temple of the Holy Ghost f^ and why he should come and dwell in this tem- ple, except to receive our acts of worship, I do not see. Besides, all his oflices invite us to pray to him. He is our Comforter f and this warrants us to ask him for comfort. It is his work to "shed abroad the love of God in our hearts;" to cause us to '-abound in hope ;" and to " take of Christ's and show to us."^ But surely " for 1 Isaiali vi. 3. 2 Rpy. iv. 8. 3 Matt, xxviii. 19. 1 1 Cor. iii. Ifi; vi. 10. 5 j;,hn xiv. 16. * Rom. V. 5; xv. 13. John xvi. 14, 15. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 75 all tliese things he will be inquired of by us, to do them for us."i I had almost forgotten to mention that beautiful prayer, Numbers vi. 24—2(3, which I have always considered as a separate invoca- tion of the Persons of the Sacred Trinity. May •' the fellowship of the Holy Gliost" be with us ! and may he fulfil his sacred office in teaching us what to pray for, and how to pray !' This question has exercised the minds of many sincere Chris- tians. Perhaps an endeavor to present it in its full Scriptural light will not be unacceptable. The exclusive claim of the only true God to the worship of bis creatures is one of the first principles of right reason and of religion. Upon this eternal and unchangeable ground our Lord denied to Satan the worship which he demanded of him.2 We may remark, therefore, upon the general subject, that the proofs of the Personality and Deity of the Holy Spirit are so decisive, (though obviously this is not the place for their produc- tion,) that only scrupulosity of mind and judgment could restrain us from giving the honor of Divine worship from the want of a more explicit revelation. The Divine nature — not the distinct Personality — is the proper and necessary ground of worsliip. Each person therefore in the sacred Trinity possesses equal and unalien- able claims — not as a Person, hut as God — to the trust, love, sub- jection, invocation, and every form and act of worship from the creatures of God. The Holy Spirit, therefore, ' with the Father and the Son, together is worshipped and glorified.'^ As to the detail of the question, the worship of heaven, as Miss Graham observes, appears to be given to him. At least, he is never mentioned among the universal chorus of worshippers ; which [con- sidering his PersoJiality) is some negative testimony on this point. He is represented as '' proceeding out of the throne," being not only " before," but in the " midst of the throne ;" his " seven eyes" mark- ing his omniscience: his sevenfold influence, his divine perfections.'' The thrice-repeated invocation of the heavenly host, while it proves his distinct Personality in the undivided Trinity, evidently includes his worship. " The Lord sitting upon his throne" and worshipped with most solenm and impressive adoration, sent by his own au- thority, and spake by his oion mouth, that commission to the Pro- phet, which an Apostle declares to have been delivered to him by the Holy Ghost = The worship of earth commences at the visible entrance into the Church of God. The very first act of Christian worship in the administration of baptism is not only, as Miss Graham observes, a separate invocation of the Holy Spirit, but also a dedication of the baptized person to his service. i^ For as the administration of this 1 Ezek. xxxvi. 37. 2 Matt. iv. 9, 10, with Luke iv. G, 7. Comp. Ps. xlv. 11. 3 Nicene Creed. t Rev. xxii. i ; iv. 5. v. 6. 5 Compare Isaiah vi. 1—3, 8 — 10, with Acts xxviii. 25. 6 Matthew xxvhi. 19. The phrase " baptized unto Moses," (1 Cor. x 2.) includesthis idea. The people were, as by baptism, consecrated unto God under the conduct and in- struction of his servant Moses. ?16 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. seal of the covenant in the name of the Holy Ghost is a direct ac knowledgment of this Divine Person as conjointly with the Father and the Son, our covenant God ; so it necessarily implies also the reciprocal obligations of faith, obedience, and worship. "The com- munion" or '"fellowship of the Spirit" (one of the most enlivening privileges of the Gospel) must also, like the "fellowship with the Father and the Son,"' be maintained by prayer in the large accep- tation of the term. For how else, but in worship, can a creature hold communion with his God? This worship St. John scrupled not to give to the Holy Spirit, in supplicating from him, conjointly with the Father and the Son, a large supply of spiritual blessings upon the Church of God.^ Ill Christian experience, the offices of the Holy Spirit — as Miss Graham remarks — especially ivheii connected with his Divine Per- sonality, naturally imply supplication. In reference to one of these offices. Scripture parallelism, together with the marked distinction of the Sacred Persons, exhibits St. Paul probably on more than one occasion invoking the Holy Spirit as the " God that heareth prayer."^ Nor indeed can we conceive of his presence in us as his temple, without all the devotional exercises of reverence and praise for his condescending love. The part irhich the Holy Spirit maintains in the administra- tion of the Church, sUow's that his claim to immediate worship was fully acknowledged. It was after a day of pnblic and special supplication, that He directed by His own authority the consecra- tion of ministers to His immediate service, and sent them forth to their work.'' To whom, then, we may ask, had the prayers of the Church been specially addressed, but to Himself, who was mani- festly the object, as well as the author, of their consecration ? And to whom did the worship connected with this solemn service belong, but to Him, who was the direct source and fountain of it? We need again only advert to his acknowledged power in the ordina- tion of the ministers of the Church.^' and to the exercise of his sove- reignty in tlie appointment and restraint of their several spheres of labor,* and in the distribution of his gifts,'' as a scriptural warrant for the direct and distinct mode of address to Him employed in the Consecration services of our Church. The Christian investigator of the early Ecclesiastical Records will observe with delight this Divine worship fully pervading the rituals of the Primitive churches.^ Our own Church, closely fol- 1 2 Cor. xiii. 14. Phil. ii. 1, witli 1 John i. 3. 2 Rev. i. 4. 5. " The seven Spirits," placed in this invocation before Christ, could not bo the holy angels ; whose name and inheritance are infinitely lielovv him, and whose con- scious unworthiness in two recorded instances refused the proffered worship of an apostle. Rev. xix. 10; xxii. 8, 9. 3 Compare 2 Thes. iii. .5, with Rom. v. 5. See also the same apparent distinction of persons marked 1 Thes. iii. 12, 13. * Acts xiii. 2, 4. ^ Acts xx. 28. 6 Acts xx. 22; xvi. 6, 7. ^ 1 Cor. xii. 4, 7—11. 8 Hurrion's valuable Sermons on the Divinity of the Holy Spirit, and Dr. Berriman's MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 77 lowing her sacred exemplar, has not confined this adoration of (he Holy Spirit to her more exclusive Ministerial services. How often has the introduction of it into her Litain^ elevated the faith, and refreshed the spirits of her sincere worshippers ! The frequent repetition of the doxology in her Liturgical exercises, is in the true spirit of the heavenly worship ; and it may be a matter of just sur- prise, that any who have constantly and joyfully united in this puljlic ascription of praise to the blessed Spirit, as well as in many of our congregational hymns to a similar purport, should be exer- cised with scruples as to the Scriptural ground of the private duty and privilege of prayer to the same divine person. Miss Graham considered, and with some justice, that many Christians are defective in rendering due and equal honor to the Holy Spirit. Her own views of his personality were remarkably clear. ' I feel' — said she on one occasion — ' " the love of the iSpirit,''^^ as distinct from the manifestation of the love of Christ to my soul. Is this wrong?' Then she added — ' I think I can account for the feeling ; as I have made it a matter of especial prayer, that 1 might have clearer views of the Holy Spirit.' She was accustomed (as we have already seen^) to address Him in direct, and probably fre- and Waterlanil's Sermons on the Trinitarian Controversy, give a condensed and satis- factory body of evidence on this subject. ' Romans xv. 30. 2 See her Prayer before Study, pp. 23, 24. The writer cannot forbear to transcribe a few specimens of the Spirit of supplication in a full, self-abasing, pleading, and enlarged address to this Divine Person from the heart and pen of holy Mr. Baxter. " Unto thee, the Eternal Holy .Spirit, proceeding from the Father and the Son, the Communicative Love, who condescendeth to make perfect the elect of God, do Ifleliver up this dark, im- perfect soul, 10 be further renewed, confirmed, and perfected, according to the Holy Cov- enant. Refuse not to bless it with thine indwelling and operations ; quicken it with thy life; irradiate it with thy light; sanctify it by thy love; actuate it purely, powerfully, and constantly by thy holv motions. And though the way of this thy sacred influence be beyond the reach of human apprehensions, yet let me know the reality and saving power of it by the happy effects. Thou art more to souls than souls to bodies, than light to eyes. Oh leave not my soul as a corpse destitute of thy life ; nor its eyes as useless, destitute of thy light; nor leave it a senseless block without thy motion. Alas! 1 feel. I daily feel that I am dead to all good, and all that is good is dead to me, if thou be not the life of all. Teachings and reproofs, mercies and corrections, yea. the Gospel itself, and all the liveliest books and sermons, are dead to me, because I am dead to them. Yea, God is as no God to me, and Heaven as no heaven, and Christ as no Christ, and the clearest evidences of Scripture verity are as no proofs at all, if thou represent them not with light and power to my soul. O thou that hast begun, and given me those heavenly intimations and de- sires which flesh and blood could never give me, suffer not my folly to quench these sparks, nor this brutish flesh to prevail against thee, nor the powers of hell to stifle and kill such a heavenly seed. O pardon that folly and wiltulness, which have too often, too obdurately, and too unthankfully striven against thy grace, and depart not from my un- kind and sinful soul. I remember with grief and shame, how I wilfully bore down thy motions; punish it not with desertion, and give me not over to myself: Art thou not in covenant with me, as my Sanctifier, and Confirmer, and Comforter 1 I never undertook to do these thmgs for myself: but I consent that thou shouldest work them on me, as thou art the agent and advocate of Jesus my Lord. O plead his cause effectually in my soul against the suggestions of Satan and my unbelief; and finish his healing, saving work; and let not the flesh and world prevail. Be in me the resident witness of my Lord, the Author of my prayers, the Spirit of adoption, the seal of God, and the earnest of mine inheritance. I,et not my nights be so long, nor my days so short, nor sin eclipse those beams, which have often illuminated my soul. V\'ithout thee, books are senseless scrawls, studies are dreams, learning is a glow-worm, and wit is but wantonness, impertinence, and 78 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. qnent supplication. The spiritual life indeed of the Christian is much employed in His reverential service. As " the sin against the Holy Ghost" (whatever that might be) included a wilful rejection of his faith, honor, and worship; so does every sin of "grieving" our Divine Comforter, and "resisting" his holy iniluence, partake, according to its measure, of the same character.' The antecedent obligation is therefore sufficiently obvious. The being against Avhom sin is committed, must be the worthy object of religious honor and service. All the exercises therefore of contrition and self-abasement on account of sin, are our humiliating but ready acknowledgments of the claim of the Holy Spirit to our dutiful obe- dience and worship. Perhaps the circumstance of our worship being the effect of his own sacred influence and teacliing, may ac- count for some want of distinctness in setting forth the obligation. But his Divine Person and offices necessarily imply our equal de- pendence upon his power and love : and the full and frequent con- fession of his claim will result in a large supply of his heavenly grace, strength, and consolation. Should some of the minor particles of illustration be thought to possess little or no positive weight, they may yet derive force and clearness from their connection with more decisive grounds of evi- dence. From the main points, however, and from the whole view of the question, sufficient warrant may be deduced to satisfy per- plexed and unsettled inquirers, and to quicken even the most intel- ligent servant of God to a more habitual acknowledgment of his duty, and enjoyment of his privilege in communion with the Holy Ghost. If a more explicit testimony still be demanded, we must recur to first principles, never more valuable than on these subjects. " It is written.'''' What is written is sufficient. What is withheld is best withheld. Man would be "wise above what is written." Had more been revealed, more would still have been desired ; and the appetite for what is beyond human research would have been more excited, and not only without practical benefit, but to the great detriment of Scriptural knowledge. Enough is given both in substance and clearness to direct and encourage our supplications to the Divine Spirit for a full supply of his heavenly influence. But in this and every other approach to the doctrine of the Trinity, many questions must arise, and must remain unanswered. All that belongs folly. Transcribe those secret precepts on my heart, which by thy dictates and inspira- tions are recorded in thy holy word. I refuse not thy help for tears and groans; but oh ! " shed abroad that love upon my heart," which may keep it in a continual life of love. And teach me tiic work which I must do in heaven. Refresh my soul with the delights of holiness, ami thejoys which arise from the believing hopes of the everlasting joys. Kx- ercise my heart and tongue in the holy praises of my Lord. Strengthen me in sulT<'rings ; and conquer the terrors'^of deatli and hell. Make me the more heavenly, by how much faster am I hastening to heaven ; and let my last thoughts, words, and works on earth be likestto those, which shall be my first in the state of glorious immortality, where the kingdom is delivered up to the Father, and God will forever be All, and in Alhof whom, and^through him, and to whom are all things. To whom be glory forever. Amen.'— Reasons fJr Christian Religi(m, Part ii. chap. xii. pp. 4G1— 163. 1 Comp. Matt. xii. 32. Eph. iv. 30. Acts vii. 51 ; v. 4. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 79 to the inner sanctuary of the essence of the ever-blessed Triune God, is equally above conception and expression. The Scriptures inform us of his nature, but they do not reason about it. A divniely guarded and sacred veil covers him from our view. And much thought upon this deep subject of Dciiy—irrespecfive of, and be- yond, the sacred boimdaries—ehher involves us in the labyrmth of metaphysics, or sinks us into the gross, low, and familiar views of an opposite school. Our inquiries into this subject must be con- ducted with the deepest caution and the most profound humihty. All tliat belongs to God's own revelation of himself must be re- ceived with unfeigned submission and contentment. To seek for "access through Christ by the Spirit unto the Father,*" is the rubric for Christian worship ; and in a strict attention to this Scriptural directory, every act, thought, and desire of prayer will become a means of communion with each of the Sacred Persons in the Di- vine essence, " without difference or inequality." At the same time, as our minds are drawn to a separate contemplation of them (espe- cially as seeking those blessings which belong to their respective offices in the economy of grace) an immediate address to either of them is fully warranted ; always however remembering, that, which- ever person be the object of worship, the mediation of Christ is the only way of access, the only plea for acceptance. Adverting now to topics of more general interest, we transcribe from Miss Graham's Manuscript a few remarks vpon the subject of Infidelity, as a fearful characteristic of the present day. They will be found to possess the usual marks of her sound, reflecting, Christian mind. Speaking of the importance of mathematical study as furnishing armor and discipline suitable to the present crisis,'^ she remarks — ' Intelligent Christians are especially called upon to set themselves in strong array against the gathering forces of inlidelity. This last enemy of Christianity is filling up his ranks from all classes of the community. The active diligence of his malignity naturally re- minds us of the prediction — " The devil is come down to you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time." '^ The deceitful and superficial character of the arguments em- ployed by the great adversary is well exposed. ' They generally consist,' she observes, ' of a confused mass of objections, apparently formidable from their very indistinctness. Like objects seen through a fog, the superficial observer supposes them to be larger than they really are. But let us disentangle the artful confusion of words and ideas. Let us set apart each argument for separate and minute scrutiny. Let us analyze the boasted reasonings of the infidel phi- losophy. We shall find that they may be classed under two heads 1 Ephesians ii. 18. 2 Yet, while insisting upon these advantages, she was not insensible to the ensnaring temptations connected with this investigating science. See the analysis of her Manu- script, p. 24, 25, note. 3 Rev. xii. 12. so MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. — Assertions which are true, hut no way to the purpose : and as- sertions wliich are to the purpose, but they are not true. These form the materials of every plausible argument against Christianity. By this mixture of untrue and irrelevant matter with that which is true and pertinent, the undorstandings of the self-conceited and unwary are subverted. Strictly speaking, no assertion can be to the purpose which is not true. But it may be of such apparently pertinent application, as to lead us to examine less closely into its truth. On the other hand, if it be undeniably true, we sometimes forget to inquire (especially when n)any arguments of this kind are artfully interwoven together) whether it has any connection with the subject in hand.' In reference to the efforts necessary to resist this mighty spirit, she justly inculcates the importance of a well-furnished and well- disciplined mind, enabling us to meet the infidel upon his own ground of reason, and to fight him with his own sword. ' Whenever, she observes, ' " the enemy thus comes in like a flood, the Spirit of the Lord will lift up a standard against him."' He, who in his purpose of inscrutable wisdom suffers these "scoffers to come in the lasi age,"- will not fail to raise up men in his church well fitted to resist them. These champions of tire cross must be men "strong in the faith," and "filled with the Holy Ghost." But, judging from the instruments which the Lord has employed in times past for his church, we are led to expect that they will be learned in all the wisdom of their enemies — in earthly as well as heavenly wisdom. To oppose the subtleties of Arius, an acute and powerful reasoner was raised up in the person of Athanasius. A wise and learned Augustine was provided to qusll the dreadful heresy of Pe- lagius. Luther, Calvin, Melancihan, and almost all the eminent Reformers, were men of profound erudition, and strong powers of argumentation. " God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise ;"3 and he could now, and perhaps may, see fit to correct the progress of infidelity by means of " unlearned men."* Yet, when we look back upon the instruments which he has heretofore raised up, and consider the many advantages of human learning which he has placed within our reach, it seems evidently our duty to use those means to the utmost; at least, until the Lord shall give us some clear indication of a more excellent and acceptable way. "Out of the mouths of babes and suckhngs our God ordaineth strength."^ Let us then seek to obtain the spirit and temper of a Uttle child. But let us never forget, that, while "in malice we are children," it behooves us "in understanding to be men." '* She thus happily brings a scriptural illustration to bear upon her subject. 'David with a sling and a stone fought Goliath and conquered. 1 Isaiah lix. 19. 2-2 Peter iii. 2 3 1 Cor. i. 97. * Acts iv. 13, s Psalm viii. 2. « 1 Cor.xiv. "20. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 81 This time be wanted no other weapon, for God had appointed him no other. But when on a future occasion he was sore pressed by bis enemies, he went into the temple of the Lord, and demanded the sword of that same Gohath. "There is none," said he, "hke that ; give it me.'" Why should he choose a weapon, which he had seen fall powerless from the hand of the uncircumcised Philis- tine? Because he knew that in the grasp of the circumcised David it would do goodly service. The hand, not the weapon, had been in fault. Thus may we, if called by the leadings of Providence, avail ourselves of human means, and meet our adversaries hand to hand with their own weapons. Only let us use David's caution. Let us not take the sword of the Philistine, till it has been con- secrated in the temple of the Lord.' The present face of the times, in the judgment of all intelligent observers, seems strongly to mark an impending- crisis — as if the " Israel" of God " and the Philistines were putting the battle in array, army against army.'"^ We know on which side tJie victory is secured. Yet the conflict will doubtless be severe. Let the servants of God gird themselves for " the good fight of faith," with the whole armor of God. This is no time for slumber or inaction. A religion taken upon trust, " received by tradition from our fathers," provides no resource in the hour of trial. A " faith, standing not upon the wisdom of man, but upon the power of God,"'' will be a defence, a stay, a ground of unfailing hope and consolation. But on this subject we will give Miss Graham's own words in a letter to her cousin. It will be found to be a refreshing specimen of her practical and edifying mode of treating subjects, which have lately been found so fruitful in speculation. ' April, 1827. 'Amongst the many reflections which I have made upon the Millennium, there are two which occupy my mind very much. I thought of them the whole of one day ; one was founded upon this text — "And some of them of understanding shall fall, to try them, and to purge, and to make them white, even to the time of the end, because it is yet a time appointed."^ Does not one shudder with horror in anticipating the fulfilment of this prophecy ? Who can need purifying more than we do? Who can say that these words are not addressed to us? How dreadful to fall in that time when the Saviour is about to appear ! to fall in the very moment when our song of triumph should begin ! to fall in the very midst of enemies, of persecutions, of infidelities, in that time when "the devil will have great wrath, because he knoweth that he will have but a short time" to trouble the faithful.^ But I think that perhaps God has inspired me with this fear, that I may pray against so 1 1 Sam. xxi. 9. 2 Ibid. xvii. 21 . 3 1 Cor ii. 5. * Daniel xi. 35. s Rev. xii. 12. 6 82 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. fatal an event ; and this is my reason for communicating it to you. When I was ahuost overwhelmed with this reflection, these sweet M-ords came to my heart, and made me think of you, — " Two are better than one."^ Since in this instance the Scriptures and our hearts agree, I beseech you not to separate yourself from me. Let us love each other always, and pray for each other, that we may not fall. But if unhappily one of us should foil, may the other be ready to raise her up again. If I should fall either into the love of the world, or into infidehty, or into any other sin, do not give me up. Do not think I am a hypocrite. Think that it is to "purify and to try me ;" and pray, that if you fall, I may act in the same way towards you, But in the midst of the thoughts which these sad ideas gave me, these words came for my encouragement, — " They that are with the Lamb are called, and chosen, and faithful.'^ You know how precious these words have been to me. But I now saw them in a new point of view. They appeared to me a plain promise introduced exactly at that time to console the saints under their difficulties, by assiuing them that they will be a little troop, *' called, chosen, and faithful," against whom no enemies will be able to prevail : that they will have a degree of faith proportioned to their sufferings and necessities. In short, in describing the character of this elect band, I wish to believe, that it describes what we shall be found, if we arrive at that period. If already we are " called and chosen," shall we not then be " faithful V Let us plead this promise. It speaks to me like a voice from heaven. It answers every fear, every uncertainty. Would God choose and call soldiers who would be unfaithful to him ? Will not our captain teach us to go follow him wherever he will have us go ? When I say to myself, 'Poor and feeble creature, what will you do in that time of distress and temptation? — faith, which cannot resist a single vain thought, how will you resist the united efforts of the world, the devil, and a wicked heart T Then I answer, ' Yes ; but has not God said, that the saints in that day shall be " faithful and chosen" by Himself, who cannot choose amiss? Rest upon his word ; if he sees that you are not fit to fight in the battle of that great day, He will not call you to it ; and if he call you to it, it is his part to give you the fidelity which will be so necessary.' Miss Graham's remarks on the subject of Prophecy will be in- terestino-, and furnish occasion for some observations suited to the present time. Having insisted upon the importance of mathematical study in reference to the progress of infidelity, she applies the same train of reasoning to the excitement to the study of Prophecy, which she justly remarks to be one of the prominent characteristics of our day. ' There is yet another subject,' she observes, ' which, though at present but partially considered, bids fair, ere long, to engross the attention of the Christian world, 1 allude to the study of prophecy. 1 Eccles. iv. 9, 10, * Rev. xvii. 14. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 83 "Seek ye out of the book of the Lord, and read" — is the Divine command ; " no one of these shall fail, none shall want her mate.'" I am particularly led to advert to it in this place, because I have heard with inexpressible pleasure, that these inquiries have already been useful in thinning the ranks of infideUty. The inducements to this study are indeed greater than in any former age of the church. The coincidence between prophecy and its fulfilment is in these latter days grandly conspicuous. It is such, that " he who runs may read."^ The winding up of the whole seems to be near at hand. The last prophecy must ere long, find "her mate,"^ in the last event of humanity. Prediction is almost swallowed up in accomplishment.^ Happy are those, who with reason erilightened by a ray of divine intelligence, can trace the wonderful coincidence, which subsists between what God has foretold, and what he has done ; whose thoughts stretch forward in awful, yet fearless antici- pation of what God is about to do ! 'But to attempt any discussion of the views that are held upon this subject, would be foreign to the purpose of this little treatise. If we would enter fully into the prophetic writings, we mtist, like Daniel "set our faces unto the Lord God, to seek by prayer and sup- plication.'"^ My object is to hint to the youthfid student, who may probably be hereafter engaged in this most interesting contempla- tion, the extreme importance of having his imagination under the strictest discipline of reason. If ever the "spirit of a sound mind" was necessary, it is so in the investigation of the future prophecies. A more than mathematical accmacy of definition, of statement, and of argument, should be carried into all that is said or written upon this subject. When I consider the extraordinary spirit of in- quiry that is now beginning to spread ; when I think I perceive that these inquiries are not only justified by Scripture, but are thetn- selves a part of prophetic fulfilment ; and when I joyfully antici- • Isaiah xxxiv. 16. ' Hab. ii. 2. 3 If this idea was intended to be the exposition— not the accommodation— of the text, it will generally be considered fanciful. A general rule is probably given to stimulate to the investigation of prophecy. But the context will readily supply the particular appli- cation of the case alluded to. Miss Graham's thought, however, is expressed by our great Christian philosopher, Lord Bacon, with his accustomed depth and clearness. Ex- pressing his wish that ' a History of Prophecy' might be given to the church, he adds his own view of what it should be. ' The history of prophecy,' he observes, ' consists of two relatives, the prophecy and the accomplishment. Hence the nature of the work requires, that throughout all ages of the world, every Scripture prophecy should be compared with the event, for the confirmation of the faith, and the wise instruction of the church, with regard to the interpretation of the prophecies, which yet remain unfulfilled. The latitude, however, must be allowed, which is agreeable to the Divine prophecies (of course Lord Bacon only refers to the several successive and connected parts of one prophetic system) not fulfilled at stated times, but in succession, according to the nature of their Author, to whom " one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." They are not therefore fulfilled punctually at once ; but they have a growing accomplishment through many ages, though the height or fulness of them may refer to a single ageor mo- ment.' Of the work itself however, he wisely adds— Le^ it be treated uiih xcisdom, so- briety, and reverence — or let atone. — Advancement of Learning, book u. c. a. * Perhaps this expression will be considered to inark the glowing ardency of her feel- ings, rather than the disciphne of her judgment. * Dan. ix. o. 84 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM, pate, that " many shall run to and fro" on this subject, "and knowl- edge shall be" wonderfully "increased ;'" it is at such times tliat I most deeply feel the importance of entreating the young Christian dihgently to cultivate, in a spirit of prayer and faith, all those parts of education, which especially tend to impart soundness, penetra- tiveness and energy to his reasoning powers.' Whatever may be thought of the somewhat novel connection of prophecy with mathematical study, it would have been well for some of our modern interpreters to have disciplined their minds to the principles of this more severe science. Much crude and dog- matical statement would have been restrained, many painful ab- surdities would have been excluded, and much perplexities spared to the path of the sincere, but unfurnished inquirer. The prophetic study is indeed, as Miss Graham observes, one of the characteristics of our day. The church is at least partially awakened to a full and dutiful acknowledgment of her Lord's command, " Search the Sc7'iptures."^ Indeed, apart from the authority of this express command, the universal " spirit of prophecy," as " the testimony of Jesus,''^ while it furnishes the true key of interpretation, gives it an imperative claim upon our attention and regard. The personal benefits of this study are such as richly to repay all the serious at- tention and humble prayers that may be devoted to it. A minute consideration of some of the most interesting parts of the sacred book, can scarcely fail of enriching the temperate and holy student with most valuable results. Added to which, the succession of events most deeply interesting and solemnly instructive, passing be- fore us through the medium of the daily press, strongly marks our immediate and individual concern in this scriptural research. Many Christians are unduly repelled by the difficulties and un- certainty, which confessedly belong to the subject. But " the pro- phets," though they could not understand, felt it their duty and privilege to "search."^ "We have also the more sure word of pro- phecy," with the injunction that "we do well that we take heed to it,"' and with a special and most encouraging promise to stimulate our investigation.* The precise extent of the claim of this study must however be variously estimated. In all cases indeed, the consideration of y^/^Z- filled prophecy is a component of Christian evidence to our own minds, and will furnish the " answer, that we should be ready al- ways to give to every man that asketh us a reason of the hope that is in us, with meekness and fear."'^ The study of unfulfilled pro- phecy— if it he a general duty — is not in all cases the immediate duty. It must be subordinated to the primary concern of a personal interest in the Gospel. To a mind awakened to serious inquiry on its own state, yet but slightly tinctured with conviction, and imper- fectly directed to the Saviour, the presentment of the claims of 1 Daniel xii. 4. 2 John v. 39. 3 Rev. xix. 10. 4 1 Peter i. 11, 12. s 2 Peter i. 19. 6 Rev. i. 3. 7 1 Peter iii. 15. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 85 unfulfilled prophecy for consideration is a most mischievous evil. The soul is diverted from the main object of contemplation and pursuit. Imagination is exercised instead of faith. A speculative taste is gratified in the place of the practical influence of the truths of the Gospel. This " ignorance of Satan's devices" enables him to get advantage — if not to the ruin of the soul — yet to the "corruption of the mind from the simplicity that is in Christ.'" And indeed under all circumstances, attention to prophecy must be regulated, in some degree at least, by the leisure, opportunities, and advantages severally belonging to us; not failing to pay due re- gard to Scriptural proportion, as well as to imperative obligation. That exclusive study, which occupies the place of Christ crucified in doctrine, and forms a substitute for the various exercises of ex- perimental and practical habits — is greatly to be deprecated. Be- sides the evils with the young inquirer just adverted to, it keeps out of sight many important subjects of obligation and interest included in the sacred canon. It has ministered to mere specula- tive curiosity and unhallowed presumption. It has originated many of the schisms now unhappily dividing the church, by the substitu- tion of "doubtful disputation" for substantial truth, greatly to the hindrance of Christian privilege, devotedness, and consistency. Admitting, however, the general importance of this study, the temper in which it is to be conducted is a matter of the first mo- ment. The instance of Daniel produced by Miss Graham, exhibits the finest speciemen of the Prophetic Interpreter or Student. Such diligence of research, in prostration of soul, accompanied with such sanctity, humility, faith, and perseverance, will, under the most un- favorable circumstances of external destitution, be honored of God. The exercise of these holy graces will form a safeguard against the delusive influence of human speculations, and will enable us to im- prove the results of divine teaching for the high purposes for which they were vouchsafed. The investigation of prophecy will thus be- come a cheering support to us in the anticipation of trials, and a quickening stimulus to the discharge of our immediate respon- sibilities. The warranted expectation, however, of human help may prob- ably have been overrated. Though in this, more than in any other age, " many have run to and fro" — yet it may be doubted how far Miss Graham's hopes have been realized by an increase of " knowledge"^ commensurate with the extent of 'research. The march of Christian intellect has been in most cases retarded by a defect of spiritual or intellectual qualifications. Some of the more elaborate and practised writers want that unction and spirituality, which evidence a mind divinely-instructed for this "search into the deep things of God ;" and this deficiency of the stamp of heavenly influence materially weakens our confidence in the results from their subsidiary intellectual advantages. Other writers of a more ■ 2 Corinthians ii. 11 ; xi. 3. 2 Daniel xii. 4. 86 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. decidedly evangelical school, are too sparingly furnished v.'ith those resources of erudition and intelligence, which doubtless were in- tended to reflect valuable, though subordinate, light upon the pro- phetic page. Some, again, of the same school, have taken up crude and undigested views — the result of imagination, impulse, or ex- citement, rather than of matured judgment and consideration ; while the dogmatism and self-sufficiency of others give no proof of divine suggestion, and offer no satisfaction to the inquiring mind. There is probably no accredited writer in the various prophetic schools who has not contributed his quantum in clearing up ditli- culties, and throwing light upon some department of the subject. Yet it may be doubted whether a connected and comprehensive scheme of the divine system has yet been satisfactorily developed : and in the diflferent schemes that have been proposed, much Chris- tian discernment is required to separate in them what is solidly established, from what is unsubstantial and speculative. Human helps must therefore, under all circumstances, be subsidiary — not primary. God's book must ever maintain its own supreme place. The scattered rays reflected from different parts of its prophetic sys- tem (such as the comparison of the Books of Daniel and John) and centering in one point, will often furnish a strong and clear light for the direction and encouragement of the Christian student. We feel therefore great confidence in recommending a Berean search of the Scripture as the ground-work of prophetic investigation ;^ not omitting to avail ourselves of the industry and intelligence of accredited writers for the expansion of our views and the elucida- tion of our difficulties ; but at the same time exercising our judg- ment, in dependence upon our heavenly Teacher, again to com- pare the exposition of their systems with the light of the sacred book. In this process of inquiry, we are persuaded, that " the wise shall understand," (even though they be "wayfaring fools,"'^) as far as is consistent witi] the divine will, and necessary for their duty and comfort; and for the rest they may well be content to wait for the full splendor of the light of the heavenly world. May the writer without presumption be -allowed to suggest a few hints relative to the clear interpretation and profitable study of prophecy ? 1. Let the special need of Divine ivjliience he frimarily con- sidered. Far be it from the writer to underrate the intellectual qualifications. He is well aware of the treasures of erudition, that have been effectively applied to this most important subject. He would have the whole field of prophecy traversed with all the mind and research that can be brought to bear upon it. But he cannot forget that the teaching wisdom belongs to God ; and that it is the irradiation of his holy light, which can alone illumine the dark places in this to us uncertain track.^ Let the interpreter duly > CoTTipare Acts xvii. 11, 12. 2 Daniel xii. 10, with Isaiah xxxv. 8. 3 It is worthy of remark, thnt Daniel's knowlpilge of unfulfilled prophecy is distinctly connected with the Spirit of prayer. Daniel ii. 10—23 ; ix. 20—27. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 87 weigh his special and weighty responsibilities. How large a portion of the grace and " wisdom tiiat is from above" does he need, to in- duce that waiting spirit so acceptable to God ; to restrain the rising of dogmatism, spiritual self-will and conceit ; to repress '' private interpretations," so iuconsistent with the comprehensiveness of Scripture prophecy : to guard against giving his own mind in the professed desire only to interpret the mind of God ; to take an en- tire view of the whole range of prophecy, instead of contracting his interest to a few favorite points ; to forbear with the decided views of his opponents; readily to retract his indigested opinions, and to yield his prejudices to the influence of more correct and enlarged apprehensions ; and habitually to connect every view with the glory of his Saviour, and the extension of his kingdom ! These are confessedly responsibilities of no ordinary moment. They for- bid trifling with the subject, as if its clear light were revealed by some momentary inspiration ; they realize the urgent need of " the Spirit of wisdom and revelation" to " enlighten the eyes of his un- derstanding ;"' and they inculcate a habit of dependence, supplica- tion, seriousness, and that reverence which Lord Bacon so justly de- scribes as indispensable to the profitable consideration of the sub- ject. In the defect of this spirit, successive systems of prophecy have been ingeniously woven ; the interpreters " come together," and bring before the church their several hypotheses and conclu- sions ; and "every one," as at Corinth, "hath a doctrine, hath a tongue, hatha revelation, hath an interpretation."^ It cannot be doubted, but this defect of Christian simplicity is one main cause of the indeterminate apprehension of the subject. Who does not see how needful is " singleness of eye," the gift of God, to reflect hght upon the mind ; while an " evil eye," affected with some natural bias, leads us in the review of the results of human ingenuity to exclaim, " How great is this darkness ! "^ 2. Let a forbearing spirit he inculcated in this research. The importance of this spirit in an intellectual view is sufficiently ob- vious, as a guard from the prevalent evils of self-conceit. Its influ- ence in every department of sacred truth — especially in the field of prophecy — is of yet higher moment. The writer's own studies in this field have brought him to the fixed conclusion— that many of the controverted points (those, for example, connected with our Lord's second Advent,) are embarrassed with ditficulties on both sides, sufficient to preserve wise and humble men from dogmatizing on either part : and to excite mutual respect and forbearance, rath-er than what we are too often constrained to see — " brethren grudging one against another."'* The event indeed is a doctrine of faith — 1 Eph. i. 17, 18. 2 1 Cor. xiv. 26. 3 Matt. vi. 22, 23. It is a remarkable expression — " None of the vicked (using the term in the Urge scriptural sense) shall understand," Daniel xii. 10. The outward sources of information are open to them. But their pride wilfully excludes them from the direct inlets of Divine light. See Matthew xi. 25, 26. 1 Corinthians ii. 14; iii, 18 — 20. * James v. 9. Couip. .ilatt. iiiv. 48, 49. 88 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. absolutely certain. The time and circumstantials being imperfectly revealed, are matters of forbearance ; on which all, even the most sober, interpreters have been constrained in the course of investiga- tion, in some points of more or less moment, to retract, modify, or restate their views. Indeed, prophecy, according to the Scriptural definition, is "a light that shineth in a dark place,'" yet not smely the light of "perfect day ;" and well would it be for us, if the con- fession of our ignorance would find vent in the Apostle's adoring contemplation — '• How unsearchable are his judgments ! and his ways past finding out I"^ We may indeed justly expect clearer light to dawn upon us, as the consummation of the grand events draws on. Meanwhile we must combine diligent study with cau- tious application. We must be content for the most part with the statement of general views and results. If the events are clear, the time, mode, and means of their accomplishment are often undefined. We are assured, that none of the Divine predictions can fall to the ground ; that the events contemplated in them are the fruit of the Lord's superintending love to his church, and that they will all issue in the final advancement of his own glory. In this recollec- tion it is most suitable to cultivate that truly Christian spirit of patient expectancy, which, in child-like humility, not in slumbering indolence, is content to leave to the Lord the unfolding of his own purposes. The Writer may be permitted to observe that the indeterminate fixing of dates to the several prophetic eras, offers large room for the exercise of this forbearing spirit. Prophets, with all their war- ranted confidence, were modest. They never spoke without a clear commission — " Thus saith the LordP Interpreters of prophecy are not always so modest. The confident mode of calculation which is sometimes adopted, might lead us to suppose, not only that the several periods, but also that their conmiencing points, were, like Daniel's weeks,^ absolutely revealed. To a few of the most important eras, indeed, dates, luore or less probable, hut not abso- lutely decisive, may be assigned ; but in periods of less moment, experience has fully shown how unsatisfactory all attempts to lix the precise periods of events have proved and are likely to prove. Our Lord, while he reproved listless indifference to " the signs of the times,"'' rebuked with no less decision this presumptuous interference with his sovereign prerogative.^ ' If ever,' — as Miss Graham ad- mirably observes — ' " the spirit of a sound mind" is necessary, it is so in the investigation of the future prophecies.' Wise and holy men of God will learn to speak with caution and reserve upon sub- jects obscurely revealed. General views are sufficient for the ground and encouragement of faith. And the cloud that still covers this mystic history of futurity, abundantly shows, that the end of proph- ecy was not to make us prophets — but to " set us upon our watch- < 2 Peter, i. 19. ^ Rom. xi. 33. 3 Daniel ix.24— 27. < Matt. xvi. 3. 5 Acts i. 7. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 89 towers,"' as diligent and humble inquirers, seeking to "have under- standing of the signs of the times, that we might know what Israel ought to do,"^ and to expect. Indeed, this designed darkness subserves various and important uses. Ft furnishes a needful and wholesome check upon human speculation. Had the Great Author of prophecy intended it as the rule of life, he would doubtless have written it with a sunbeam. In its present mode and character of revelation it is however admirably suited— not indeed to indulge unwarrantable curiosity, but to ex- ercise our faith, to call forth our Christian graces, to enliven our hopes, to quicken our anticipation of the ultimate triumph of the kingdom of Christ; and meanwhile, that we should mark with so- berness the gradual development of progress towards this glorious consummation. It is far more profitable — instead of making a framework for ourselves — to be looking in the Lord's best time for that clear reflection of light in the fulfilment of prophecy, which will awe even the most inconsiderate to conviction.—" This is the finger of God. What hath God wrought l"^ 3. Let the subject be eve?' considered as a practical study. It is a sign of an unhealthy, excited temperament, if the prophetic parts of Scripture be more interesting than the preceptive — that is — if we are more conversant with matters of uncertain interpretation, than with the subjects that relate to our immediate duty. If the prophetic study be dissociated from its practical character and con- sequences, our prepossessed fancy is far more likely to give the in- terpretation than the Divine Spirit. The blessing belongs to those that '•'■keep the things that are written in the words of this proph- ecy."< The fruit of Daniel's research was that which is most spe- cially needed at the present eventful moment — intercession for the Churcli and for the land.' Habakkuk went to his watch-tower — not to speculate in idle curiosity, but as we have before hinted, to be in readiness to hear the valuable lessons of reproof and instruc- tion that were designed for hiin.^ Supposing that the period of accomplishment is far distant, yet there is a large preparatory work of prayer, exertion, and Christian devotedness, urgently pressing 1 Hab. ii. 1. 2 1 Chron. xii. 32. One of the most profound and sober expositors of prophecy well deserves to be heard on this point. ' The folly of interpreters,' observes Sir Isaac New- ton, 'has been to foretell times and things by the prophecy of the Revelation, as if God designed to make them prophets. By this rashness they have not only exposed them- selves, but brought the prophecy also into contempt. The design of God, when he gave them this, and the prophecies of the Old Testament, was, not to gratify men's curiosity by enabling them to foreknow things; but to the end that, after, tht-y were fulfilled, they might be interpreted by the event ; and his own providence, not the wisdom and skill of the interpreters, be thus manifested thereby to the world.' Bishop Hurd also well re- marks to the same point, that ' the declared end of prophecy is, not that we may be ena- bled by it to foresee things before they come to pass ; but that when they come to pass, we may acknowledge the divine Author of the prophecy.' (Serm. VIII.) 'Even the pophecies of Christ,' as the same author observes, (Serm. V.) 'could not give full con- viction till the time oftheir accomplishment had arrived. 3 Exodus viii. 19. Numbers xxiii. 23. * Rev. i. 3. 5 Daniel ix. 2, 3, 16—19. 6 Hab. u. 1. 90 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. upon US. And far better shall we be employed in girdino- ourselves to tlie discharge of the practical obligations of prophecy, than in minutely tracing out the conjectured period and mode of its fidfil- ment, and in attempting to narrow its wide and comprehensive sphere by uncertain application to the little particularities of our own time and place. Is there no danger, while fixing the dates, and describing the circumstantials of the grand coming events — lest we forget that every page of prophecy is a direct personal revelation to our own souls, and lest we too slightly regard those clearest pre- dictions of the sacred page— the promises of God to his people, and his threatenings to the unbelieving world ! May not even the com- prehensive rule of '-seeking first the kingdom of God," in "right- eousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost," be sometimes unhap- pily subordinated to the absorbing interest awakened by the glow- ing prospects of the Millennial reign'?' How much has been lost to the church by a speculative contem- plation of the prophetic view of the doctrine of our Lord's second ad- vent ! If, instead of filling up the outlines more from the resources of imagination than from the substance of Scripture, the faith of the church had been singly fixed upon the glory of tliis consum- mating event; and intensely exercised in the glow of expectancy, how diiferent would have been her aspect at the present moment ! What a bond of union would have subsisted among her members ! What an atmosphere of love would have pervaded her territory ! What a spring of holy consecration v/ould have been in extended activity ! It ill becomes servants, looking for the return of their ab- sent lord, to spend themselves in discussing the mode and circum- stantials of his coming, when they might be far more suitably em- ployed in preparing the house for his reception, and in readiness to give an immediate answer to his welcome knock \'^ The obscurity that hangs over the precise period of our Lord's coming is indeed a most wise and gracious dispensation, to in- vigorate the church in every age with the high privilege and obli- gation of looking for this triumphant crisis. Whatever views there- fore tend merely to captivate the imagination, to gratify curiosity, and thus to divert the attention from the present duties connected with this anticipation — these must be regarded as the unscriptural delusions of man's conceit. This spirit of constant expectancy mly be considered as the perfecting feature of the Christian character.^ It concentrateis all the practical and animating exercises of the Gospel. What an encouragement does it supply to the assurance of faith !^ What a stimulus to activity,^ devotedness,*^ abounding love,^ heavenly conversation, ^ sobriety of spirit,^ readiness of habit,'" ' Matt. vi. 38. Romans xiv. 17, with Luke xvii. 21. a Luke xii. 35, 36. 3 See I Cor. i. 7. * Heb. x. 37, 38. 5 Miitthew XXV. 35—40. Luke xix. 13—26. 2 Peter i. 5—1 1 . 6 Rev. xvi. 15; xxii. 7. ''1 Thess. iii. 12, 13. Compare James ¥.9. 8 Phil. iii. 20, 21. 2 Peter iii. 11—14. 9 Luke xxi. 34. Phil. iv. 5. 1 Thnss v. 1— S. 1 Peter i. 13; iv. 7. i« Luke xii. 35—10. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 91 and watchful preparation for eternity !' What support does it furnish in the hour of trial, whether from the immediate visitations of God,^ or the persecuting enmity of man I' What materials does it give for personal edification,^ compassionate labors for the uncon- verted,5 and mutual exhortation^ and comfort' in ihe church of God ! How cheering is the prospect which it holds out of complete transformation into the image of our beloved Lord !^ What pa- tient hope^ and joyful anticipation'" does it bring into the waiting soul ! So eminently practical — so richly consolatory — is the be- lieving and habitual contemplation of the coming of our Lord ! In- deed when we realize the hope of body and soul at this blissful era being equal participants of the eternal redemption" — the happiness of every niember of the body consummated in the complete glorifi- cation of the whole body— and the church, "filled with all the fulness of God," presenting to the universe the entire "fulness of Him that filleth all in all'"- — we may well conceive, that never was an event so joyful known on earth since the fall of man. We wonder not that " the whole creation," now "groaning and travail- ing together in pain" under the ruins of sin. should then be awak- ened to joyful exultation in its " deliverance from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God."'^ This scriptural privilege of expectancy was however inculcated upon the church, while the event which it contemplated could only be seen through the long vista of some thousand years. It was in- tended therefore, not necessarily to imply the approach of the grand crisis,'^ but to mark the habit of mind with which it should be awaited. The delineation of this habit which has just been given, evidently includes all the essential principles of sanctification and of happiness. We cannot therefore but see sufficient reason for the large space which the event occupies in the enforcement of Chris- tian obligation, and the prospects of Christian hope. Our divine Saviour is brought eternally near to his people. '^ His perfect like- ness is the immediate consequence of his vision."^ His glory is their everlasting joy.'' It is painful to reflect, that a speculative study of prophecy should have so materially injured the influence of those prospects of the church upon her present duties and privileges. The minute de- scriptive details, that have been sometimes connected with the coming of Christ in his kingdom (not to speak of their doubt- ful scriptural authority, and their closer alliance to earth than iMatt. xxiv. 42; XXV. 13. Luke xxi. 26. 1 Thess. v. 9— 18. Rev.xvi. 15. 2 1 Thess. iv. 13. i 2 Thess. i. 6—10. 4 Jude 14, 15, with 20, 21. 5 Ibid, with 22, 23. 6 Heb. X. 2.5. 7 i Thess. iv. 16— 18: v. 8— 11. 8 Phil. i. 6 ; iii. 21. 1 Thess. v. 23, 24. 1 John iii. 2. 9 2 Thess. iii. 5. James v. 7, 8. "> Isaiah xxv. 9; xxvi. 19. Luke xxi 28. Rom. xii. 11. Titus ii. 13. »' Romans viii. 23. Pliil. iii. 21. 12 Eph. iii. 19 ; i. 23. •3 Psalm xcvi. 11—13; xcviii. 5—9. Rom. viii. 21, 22 n See th(> mistake on this point corrected in the Thessalonian church, 2 Thess. ii. 1—2, 15 Rev. iii. Ii); vii, 15—17. is 1 John iii. 2. iJ Matthew xxv, 21. John xvii. 24. Rev. iii. 21. 92 MEMOIR OF MARV JANE GRAHAM. to heaven) have a strong tendency to repress a spiritual contem- plation of" this great event.' Even the details given in the pro- phetic books are much under the veil. Interpreters expound them according to the principles of their different S3'stems : and after all their diligence and labor, much is left unexplained, or resting upon conjectural support. In these things the writer is content to " walk by faith, not by sight."'^ AH that is necessary is revealed. We sliall be as iiappy as God can make us. As to any precise knowl- edge, " it doth not yet appear what we shall be."^ And such knowledge we want not. It exhibits a far more enlarged ex- pectancy to be assured, tliat it will be something that we neither know nor can know — interminable bliss without sin, and with Christ. Our happiness centres in the certainty and glory, not in the circumstantials, of the event. And surely the " shaking of earth and heaven,"^ which seems to be at hand, will quicken the cry for our expected Lord — 'Come quickly, take to thyself the king- dom, and reign with all thy saints.' The waiting Christian, in these times of special trial of the church, "lifts up his head" full of joy and expectation.^ Faith overcomes the tremendous thought of wrath and judgment, as the harbingers of his coming;" and still the cry is re-echoed to the solemn declaration — " Surely I come quickly ; Amen. Even so, come. Lord Jesus.'"' III. — ON CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE AND PRACTICAL RELIGION. Miss Graham's correspondence, flowing in an easy and natural strain, will be generally interesting. Even where no striking fea- tures are visible, an affectionate earnestness, tender sympathy, and a direct application of the first principles of the Gospel to the several cases of her friends cannot fail of being observed. The following letter appears to have been written to a friend, newly awakened to concern for her eternal interests. ' November, 1826. ' I fancy that you have for some time past felt a conviction, that religion is something more than you used to think it, more than the world in general seem to think it. But yet perhaps, you do not see 1 Bishop Hall's beautiful meditations were not less suited to our day than to his — ' O blessed Saviour, what a strange variety of conceits do I find concerning thy thousand years' reign ! What riddles are there in that prophecy^ which no huii»an tongue can read! Where fix to the beginning of that marvellous niillennary, and where the end, and what manner of reign it shall be, whether temporal or spiritual, on earth or in hea- ven, undcrtroes as many constructions as there are pens that have undertaken it. How busy are the tongues of men ! How are their brains taken up with the endless construc- tion of this eniinnatical truth, when in the mean time the care of the spiritual reign in their hearts is neglected. O my Saviour, while others weary themselves with this dis- quisition of thy personal reign upon earth for a thousand years — let it be the whole bent and study of my soul, to make sure of my personal reign with thee in heaven to all eter- niy. 2 2 Cor. V. 7. 3 1 John iii. 2. * Heb. xii. 26, 27. 5 See Luke xxi. 28. ^ 2 Thess. i. 8. Rev. i. 7. "> Rev. xxii. 20. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 93 very clearly, what more it is that religion requires of you. You see that there is notluiig in this vain world capable of satisfying the desires of your immortal spirit ; but you do not clearly comprehend what there is in religion to satisfy all our desires. You seek the Lord ; but you do not yet feel as if you had found Him. You probably spend much time in reading the Scriptures ; but sometimes they seem obscure and unintelligible, sometimes dry and uninter- esting. You often pray; but do not always find either comfort or delight iu prayer. Sometimes you feel as if you could give up every earthly enjoyment for one glimpse of that " love of Christ which passeth knowledge ;" and at other times it seems to you very foolish and unreasonable to pretend to more religion than olher people. This is what many feel who are beginning to be very anxious about religion. I cannot help indulging a strong hope, that you will soon find in the love of Jesus all that you want to make you happy ; only let me beg of you to seek Him simply, under the conviction that we can neither do nor think anything good without Him ; that " every thought is evil, only evil, and that continually ;"' and that, while we continue in this state, we cannot understand the things of the Spirit of God, because they will appear " foolishness to us. '* The change which every person must un- dergo, before they can truly receive Christ as their Saviour, is described in terms no les^ striking—" Ye must be horn again.y^ "If any man be in Christ Jesus, he is a new creatw'e ; old things are passed away ; behold ! all things are become new !"* In other parts it is described as a change from death unto life, " from dark- ness to light, from the power of Satan to God."'' But I will not multiply instances. Surely such a change as this cannot be the cold, wordly, heartless religion, with which the generality of people sit down satisfied! Surely it is a change we have no power to make in ourselves. When God "breathed into man's nostrils the breath of life," it was a wonderful act of his creating power.« But when he breathes spiritual hfe into the soul of one " dead in tres- passes and sins," this seems more wonderful ; and yet this is what we vainly think we can do ourselves. But if we can once be con- vinced, that we are so utterly worthless and sinful, that none but Christ can save us, then we shall go to Him for everything. If we want repentance, wisdom, holiness, salvation, all these are His to give ; He promises to give them to every one that asks Him. O be much in prayer to this precious Saviour ! He has declared, that none shall seek him in vain. Those who leave trusting olf in themselves, and cling with a single and undivided heart to the cross of Christ, and " count everything else but loss, so they may win Christ and be found in Him"" — what words can describe their blessedness ! How true it is, that those who seek happiness in any- 1 Gen. vi. 5. 2 1 Cor. ii. 14. ^ John iii. 7. i 2 Cor. V. 17. 5 Acts xxvi. 18. « Gen. ii. 7. 7 Phil. iii. 7—9. 94 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. thing except Christ Jesus, are '• hewing out to themselves hroken cisterns that can hold no water !" Come then, my most dearly loved friend, come with me to "the fountain of living waters" — come to Him who has said — ^" If any man thirst, let him come to me, and drink''' — as if he had said — ■' If there he any poor sinner, who has begun to find out that the pleasures of this world camiot quench his thirst after happiness, if he long for something less vain and empty and unsatisfying, let him come unto me.' Do you desire to give yourself to Christ, to make Him your all in all? Then let not any fears or misgivings keep you away from Him. for He " waits to be gracious" to you. Your sins need not keep you away ; for He came to call sinners. He calls Himself the friend of sinners : and indeed, till you are taught by his Spirit, how exceed- ingly sinful you are, you cannot prize Him as you ought. Let me entreat you often to dwell on the '-precious promises" of Scripture. Remeiuber, that " in Him all the promises are yea and amen ;" and if we plead in his name for their fulfilment, the truth and faithful- ness of God who cannot he stand engaged to perform them for us. There is one in particular which seems to me full of encouragen)ent ; it describes so fully the state of heart we want, and promises to give wliat it describes to those who inquire of the Lord. See Ezek. xxxvi. 25 — 37.' The next letter is of a later date, and implies a more distinct advance of Christian knowledge in her friend. 'Let me use the privilege of friendship, and entreat you to look less at the dark side of yoiu" prospects, and more at the unspeakable mercies with which God has favored you ; particularly that he hag given you the greatest blessing he has to give, in calling you to become his reconciled child b)'^ faith in Christ Jesus. And having given you an interest in his Son, "shall he not with him freely give you all things /"'^ — all things that are good for you, my dear friend. If therefore your wishes are not satisfied, it must be, because it is not for your good to satisfy them. Your lot has been chosen out for you by one, who is infinitely wise and kind, as the very best for your present and eternal happiness, and " He doeth all things well." You will ultimately find peace in religion ; I am sure you will ; and in the meantime is it not a blessing that you are not permitted to take up your rest here, and find the false destroying peace, which so many experience in wordly enjoyments? What if you were to ask God in Christ's name for the fulfilment of such a promise as this — " Behold, I will bring in health and cure, and I will heal him, and will reveal unto him the abundance of peace and of truth"^ — - would he deny you ? Considering that no promise of scripture "is of private interpretation" — not meant for one part of the church, or one age of it, but for the whole flock of Christ noio, and every member of it, and therefore for ijou — considering too, " that all the promises of God are yea and amen to lis in Christ Jesus ;"^ and ' John vii. 37. * Romans viii. 32. 3 Jer. xxxiLi. 6. * 2 Cor. i. 20. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 95 that Christ himself has said—" If ye shall ask anything in my name, / ivill give it yoiC^ — what encouragement have we to take these promises to God in prayer, to wresile with him, and declare with holy confidence — "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me !"'^ Oh ! he would bless you ; and his " blessing maketh rich, and he addeih no sorrow loith it.''^^ My dear friend, you must come to God thus, and " give him no rest," till he grant you the promised blessing. You must not take a denial. May the Spirit of prayer be abundantly poured out upon you ! It is our privilege to take our sins and sorrows, and cast them upon Christ; he has already borne their agonizing weight ; why should we groan under them? "Cast thy burden upon the Lord." Would that I could act as I advise ! But I fall very, very far short. Even my desires after this state of mind are miserably faint and cold ; but let us both take comfort in the reflection, that we are accepted in Christ ; " complete in him ;"^ beloved, not for our deservings, but for his ;' and his are " the same yesterday, to-day, and forever." When we fail, Christ remains the same ; and it is for the sake of what he has done, that God will accept us ; not for anything we can do ; or we might indeed go mourning all the day long.' These letters mark the general tone of Miss Graham's correspon- dence, in affectionate counsel and Scriptural encouragement. The case to which they primarily refer is among the most diliicult and deli- cate within the compass of Christian instruction. No service is more valuable to (he sincere but intelligent inquirer, than to enter into his case with tenderness, forbearance, and anxious consideration of his difficulties. Vague and ill-defined directions throw but little light upon his path. Even the primary and immediate counsel, guiding him to the Saviour of sinners, needs a present and partic- ular application to his individual state. His dilTiculties will, indeed, vary according to his simplicity, sinceritj'-, and earnestness. But, under all circumstances, the instant duty of believing in Christ must be inculcated. No deficiency of spiritual apprehensions must be allowed to hinder immediate attention " to this work of God.'" 1 John xiv. 14. 2 Gen. xxxii. 26. 3 Prov. x. 2-2. * Colossians ii. 10. 5 Ephcsians i. 6. ^ John vi. 28, 29. This instant duty of believing is however questioned by some ofour modern religionists — either as seeming to imply a natural power to believe, or as incon- sistent with the manifest inability to believe without a Divine principle. But our Lord inculcated the duty upon the unbelieving multitude, in this passage, in ankwer- to their professed inquiry upon the subject of duty. He subsequently enforced it upon the same class of hc;irers (John xii. 36, with 37 — 4(J.) Besides, as sin is the neglect or resistance of obligation, if faith be not the duty of the unconverted, unbelief is not their sin — conse- quently— not what the Gospel repeatedly declares it to be — the primary ground of their condemnation (John iii. 18, 19; xii. 48; xvi. 8, 9; 2 Thessalonians ii. iO, 11.) This sys- tem of measuring duty by ability, and of admitting inability to cancel obligation, equally annuls every exercise of love and obedience, by which man is connected with his God, but for which he is no less incapacitated, than for the spiritual habit of fltith. It argues also a forgetfulness of the justice of the Divine requirements, and of the responsibility of that sinful inclination, which constitutes the principle of his impotency to comply with them. The commission of the Gospel is an universal call both to repentance and faith. (Mark i. 15; xvi. 15, Ifi; Acts xvii. 30.) The cross of Christ is held up to the whole world. (Isaiah xlv. 22.) The Holy Spirit employs its awakening and attractive influ- 96 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. The Gospel was not intended to answer the question — " What shall I do, that I may inherit eternal lifef'^ But it affords a satisfactory reply to a question more nearly interesting to the con- dition of a sinner — '•' How can man. he just toith God f'^ It opens, by the insirumentality of faith, a free, immediate, universally ac- cessible way to favorable acceptance with our offended God. No perplexing course of preparatory discipline is required. All are in- vited without limitation, without delay. Infinite mercy and grace are provided for infinite need. Only those that feel will ask ; and all that ask shall have. Thus a sense of sin is the prerequisite, without which no man will come (for "the whole need not the physician"^) ; but it is no part of the warrant to come. The Scrip- ture has nowhere prescribed any uniform rule, or measured out the precise extent of necessary conviction. All constitutions are not formed alike ; and therefore pungency is no certain proof of sin- cerity. Many are brought without a process of painful exercise to a simple and clear reception of the truth. The soul is as welcome to Christ at the first moment of invita- tion as at any successive period ; and protracted conflict manifests only the stubborn power of unbelief — a sin, which the spirit of God will not fail to apply as matter of humiliating conviction.^ To in- sist therefore upon a determined measure or intensity of well-de- fined conviction as a preparation to faith, is an infringement upon the freene~s and simplicity of the Gospel. The law also, as the in- strument to produce this conviction,* nuist be used in immediate connection with Christ. He is the life ; and if he be not set forth at the commencement, there will be only ihe temporary and un- satisfactory change from a state of indifference to a state of bond- age, without any effective principle of holiness or of privilege ; and the man will be satisfied without that entire simplicity of faith and self dedication so indispensable to salvation. Even in the ex- hibition of Christ, the mind of the inquirer must be diverted from a too minute and anxious analysis of its own exercises of faith to a fixed contemplation of the glorious Person presented to view. The emphasis of the invitation is, " Look — Come tmto 7«e."^ The first sensation of rest will be connected not with a precise knowledge of our own feelings, but with an entire dependence upon the work of Christ. Though self-examination is intimately connected with the prosperity and advance of the Christian life ; yet it must never be employed to originate our peace and hope in the Gospel ; but to as- certain the reality of our hope ; to detect false confidence and back- sliding ; to bring to us the warranted enjoyment of " the testimony of our consciences," in regard to the consistency of our profession;'' ence ns the means of quickening sinners to life. (John xii. 32.) Thus the grace ofGoJ is glorified, while the wilful unbelief of man alone excludes him from the free justifica- tion of the Gosj)cl, and consequently leaves him without excuse. I Mark x. 17. - Joh ix. 2. 3 Matthew ix. 12. 4 See John xvi. 8, 9. 5 See Rom. iii. 20; vii. 7. Galalians iii. 21. Compare Matthew xix. 17— 20. « Isaiah xlv. 22. Matt. xi. 28. ' See 2 Cor. i. 12. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 97 and to mark our progress in knowledge, experience, and practical devotedness. One further point connected with the case of the in- quirer is of indispensable moment. He may be assured, that there is no indefinitely future period— no "day of the Lord's power" more favorable for his acceptance than the present ; and that no deticiency of knowledge can acquit him of the obligation of an in- stant surrender of himself to God. This very moment the. Lord demands his unreserved faith, and his whole heart ; and every delay brings a fresh charge of guilty widens the distance, and increases the difficulty. The following letter, written about two months before her death, gives an interesting view of her own search after truth, and marks a discriminating apprehension of the Gospel. ' Stoke Fleming, Oct. 1830. 'I am grieved that you should for a moment imagine that I think our dear must be lost, because she does not subscribe to the doctrines of Calvin. I do not myself so much as know what all Calvin's doctrines are, or whether I should subscribe to them my- self. 1 have read one book of Calvin's, many parts of which pleased me much ; I mean his Institutes, which Bishop Horsley says ought to be in every clergyman's library. Further than this I know no- thing of Calvin, orchis opinions. I certainly did not form one sin- gle opinion from his book, for I had formed all my opinions long before from the Bible.' You may remember my telling you that some years ago I declined greatly, almost entirely (inwardly) from the ways of God, and in my breast was an infidel, a disbeliever in the truths of the Bible. When the Lord brought me out of that dreadful state, and established my faith in his word, 1 determined to take that word alone for my guide. I read nothing else for be- tween three and four months, and the Lord helped me to pray over every word that I read. At that time, and from that reading, all my religious opinions were formed, and I have not clianged one of them since. I knew noihing then of Calvin. I have said so much, dear . because I think it a very wicked thing to do, as you seem to think I do, to call Calvin or any man " master on earth," or to make any human writer our guide in spiritual things. Chririt only should be our niaster, and his word our guide, and his Spirit our teacher ; and that Holy Spirit will be given to us if we ask for it. But I suppose by the doctrines of Calvin you meant the doctrine of predestination, v,'hich Calvin, in common witli many other of God's saints, believed and preached. My belief and settled opinion about predestination, you will find expressed more clearly than any words of mine can do, in John vi, 37, 39, 65. Rom. viii. 23—30. Rom. ix. Eph. i. 3—6, 1 L 2 Thess. ii. 13, 14. 2 Tim. i. 9, 10. Titus i. 1, 2. 1 Peter i. 2—5. 1 John iv. 19. Rev. xvii. 8. John XV. 16. I also join in every word of the 17th Article of our I See chap. ii. 7 98 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. church ; so much so, that if asked my opinion about predestination, I should give it in those very words, from the impossibility of find- ing any others, which in so short a space expressed my meaning so well. But as this article is only of human authority, 1 should therefore bring forward the proof from the Scriptures of that God who cannot lie. I have just given you a few texts as they struck me. Tiicy are, I believe, enough for my present purpose : but de- tached texts lose much of their power: it is the whole sense of the whole Bible that should determine us ; and since " the natural man receivelh not the things of the Spirit of God, (for they are foolish- ness to him)," let us pray to become spiritual, " that we may know the things that are freely given us of God."^ The above texts will give you an idea of my opinion. Indeed some of them are exceed- ingly plain and strong, and full, in their account of the doctrine. I endeavor to receive them as a little child, in their plain literal meaning. ' But to return to our dear ; I think the doctrine of elec- tion essential to the comfort and consistency of our walk with God; because I deem it essential to receive the whole Bible, and every truth contained in every part of the Bible, without partiality or gainsaying. But I do not consider a belief in the doctrine es- sentially necessary to salvation. I do consider a simple trust in the atonement and righteousness of Jesus Christ as absolutely necessary to salvation. If then, dearest , your beloved friend and mitie too (for I do most sincerely love her), possesses this sim- ple reliance on the death and obedience of Christ for salvation, doubt not that she will be saved ; though she may not yet have been able to receive those high and humbling doctrines which very few Christians do receive in the commencement of their course,^ and which some camiot to the very end thoroughly embrace. Many, however, I think embrace the actual doctrine, though they cannot bear the words predestination, election, &.c. : a stran^-e dis- like, since both words happen to be taken from Scripture. My be- loved ■ would have been quite distressed, had I supported the doctrine of predestination in my conversations with her under the name of predestination ; and yet we often conversed on the thing itself, and sulijects connected with it ; nor did I find her ideas dif- fer greatly from mine. "Other foundation can no man lay than is laid, .Tcsus Christ." All who are built on this foundation, who are thus founded on the Rock of Ages, must be secure. '-Believe on the Lord .lesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Acts. xvi. 31, &c. " He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life ; and he that ' 1 Cor. ii. It wilh 12. 2 In the early stacre of her own course tliis holy iloctrino had excited much repucrnance, tliough she was afterwards enabled to receive it with a most simple and child like faith, and to set it forth (as we have before remarked) with a clearness of statement ami power of argument, that marked the richness and mnturily of her theological views (See her I'Veeness of Divine Grace, referred to at p. 55.) She observes to her cousin the stimulus and support which she had received from this doctrine in seasons of distressing deadness in her spiritual apprehensions. MKMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 99 believeth not the Son, shall not see life ; hit the wrath of God ahideth on h'lmP John iii. 36. See also John iii. 15, 16, 18 ; v. 24 ; vi. 4!), 47 ; xi. 25, 26, (fcc' The two next letters are of the class of tliose wiiich were formerly adduced in illustration of her clear apprehensions of scriptural truth. The first letter introduces some incidental notices of interest. It seems to have been written to the correspondent whom she had formerly addressed on the subject of Christian study. ' ^^toke Flemings Jan. 4, 1827. 'My own DEAR Friend, ' Every letter I receive from you gives me fresh cause of thank- fulness, and increases my hope, that you have learnt of Him who teacheth, and will certainly never leave you till he has given you that '• joy and peace in believing," which all His children sooner or later experience. I trust that the love of my God to you will be a constant source of thanksgiving and self-abasement to me: for oh ! what thanks can I render to Him. for the love with which he is now calling you out of the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of His dear Son? And how can I ever be sufficiently humbled, when I reflect how unfaithfully and inconsistently I have acted towards you l One instance in particular is now fresh in my memory. You once asked me to w^ite to you ; and I put it off from day to day, till at last I wickedly persuaded myself that I could not do it at all. I hope you will forgive this cruel neglect, "as God for Christ's sake has forgiven you ;" and that we shall be enabled henceforth, to love and help one another in His strength, and for His sake. ' Dear , how can you say that I am your dearest friend, and only comforter? I glory in the thought, that you have a friend, whose love is stronger than death, and a Comforter, who is able to make you rejoice with joy unspeakable; and to whose blessing and inlluence we must refer it, that such poor helpless and sinful crea- tures as we are, can ever be of the slightest use in helping or com- forting each other. I know you long to call Jesus your Friend, and the Holy Spirit your Comforter; and where does this longing come from ? Not surely from your own evil heart ; for from that corrupt source can proceed nothing but hatred or indifference to God and His ways. Besides, it is a feeling you once knew^ nothing of. Believe me — ^rather believe the Scriptures when they say — that every desire of the soul after God is itispired by Himself, and is the fruit of His own free love in Christ .Tesus — " I have loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee/' "Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you." "No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him." " All that the Father giveth me shall come to me ; and him that Cometh to me ; 1 will in no wise cast out."^ Now, do you not 1 Jer. xxxi. 3; John xv. 16; vi. 44, 37. 100 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. feel yourself drawn towards God ? Does not your heart sometimes choose Cluist in preference to every earthly blessing ? Do you not come to Christ in prayer, beseeching Him to receive you ? And do not the texts I have mentioned, with a thousand others of the same import; warrant the inference — that you " come" to Christ, because the Father hath given you to Christ, and draws you to him ; that He " draws you with loving-kindness, because he has loved you with an everlasting love ;" and finally, that He will " never cast you out ?" My dear friend, I would not, indeed I would not, flatter you with a false hope. I know of nothing so melancholy as the way in which the world say—" Peace, peace ; to themselves, when there is no peace"' — no rational ground of hope. But the hope of a soul convinced of sin, renouncing all trust in its own righteousness, and casting itself on the mercy of Jesus, cannot be a vain or pre- sumptuous hope ; because it is founded on the word of God. You say, you feel so wicked and so worthless, that you dare not hope. Now till you felt yourself to be both exceedingly wicked and worth- less, you could not be a fit object of Christ's grace, who says, "They that be whole need not a physician, but they tiiat are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."^ I know that many, when they first come to a sense of their own sinfulness, think something in this way : 'Christ will never receive so vile a sinner as I am : I must repent, and pray, and try to make myself a little better ; and then perhaps I may deserve his favor.' Alas ! they know not that repentance and prayer are his free gifts, and instead of praying for the pardon we receive, are themselves a part of it. Would it not have been as reasonable for the leper to have waited, till he could cleanse himself from his leprosy; the blind man. until his sight was improved : or the sick of the palsy, till he could take up his bed and walk, before they would come to Jesus to be healed? The first chapter of Romans, from the 18th to the 32nd verse, gives an awful description of the stale of every man's heart by nature; and though education and the restraints of civilized society have prevented the breaking out of sin in the dreadful and open way in which it was indulged among the heathen, still 1 think every person awakened to a sense of sin, will perceive in it, as in a glass, their own image : at least they will acknowledge, that the seed of every sin is in their heart, especially that most unnatural and truly dia- bolical sin, of " worshipping and serving the creature more than the Creator." And lest we should imagine that living in a country wiiere God is known, and joining in acts of outward religion, can make the heart really better, till it is converted to God ; the Apostle goes on, in the second and third chapters, to prove that the Jew is no better than the Gentile; that "there is no difference; every mouth must be stopped, and all the world become guilty before God." And it is immediately after having given us such an awful I Jer. vi. 14. 2 Matt, ix. 12, 13. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 101 view of our state, in the sight of God, that he goes on to hold out free and unconditional salvation, to all wiio simply trust in the death and righteousness of Christ. But I doubt not, you will soon perceive, to your comfort, how very free the offers of grace in the Gospel are. I cannot forbear mentioning one more instance ; it is in the parable of the two debtors, in the seventh of Luke — " And when they had nothing to pay ^ \\Q frankly forgave them all." It is when we are brought to this feeling, that we " have nothing to pay," that our hearts are in a fit state to receive with eagerness and delight the "frank forgiveness" of our Saviour; then we give Him all the glory of it. Smely you and I feel ourselves to be in the situation of the debtors who owed most. We have nothing to pay ; and sometimes I think I can even rejoice in this extremity of poverty, since it hides pride and boasting from me, and makes the mercy of God appear so divinely infinite. 1 do not know, that yon have any reason for fancying that you shall die young : but though the thoughts of deatli are useful to all, and delightful to those whose sins are forgiven for Jesus' sake, I think we ought rather to be willing to live as long as our heavenly Father pleases, in hopes of being the means of bringing others to Him. 'I am glad you like your pupils so much. I feel incompetent to give you any advice about them: I believe the great thing is to pray much for them, that they may have that grace, which alone can make the Sabbath a delight. We should also pray with them, and let them see that we are very anxious about their salvation, and that, though we attach much importance to their progress in other things, we look upon them all as nothing in comparison with the knowledge of Christ. Children sometimes take much pleasure in answering a few simple questions on a chapter they have read ; and in this way very little cliildren may be made to comprehend a great deal. Many of the parables, types, and emblems in Scripture are particularly adapted to their capacities, and afford them great delight. I have seen a little child, who would have been tired to death with a serious discourse, hsten for a long time with unwearied attention, whilst being told in its own childish language, how Christ compared himself to a vine, and his people to living branches : or how Christ as the good Shepherd, "gatliers the lambs with His arms, and carries them in His bosom.'" While explaining these things, they should be taught the text or texts referred to ; that so a poriion of God's own word may be fixed in their hearts. I think, however, there is nothing more important than to stop as soon as the attention of our little hearers seems to tire. Sometimes the eldest may be set to teach the youngest some verse or hynm. Scripture prints also form a very good resource for Sunday employ- ment. Children are so artless, that we can soon perceive what pleases them most ; and whatever kind of religious conversation or ' John XV. 1—5. Isaiah xl. 11. 102 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. employment seems particularly to interest them, should be brought out on Sunday, to make it as pleasant a day as possible to them.' ' I hardly know how to say a word ag-ainst Jeremy Taylor ; he is a great favorite of mine ; but I cannot help thinking that his views of the doctrines of Christianity savor too much of uionasiic severity, and too little of the simplicity which is in Christ .lesus. The times he wrote in may account for these inconsistencies in the writings of so holy a man ; but I think they are calculated to increase the melancholy of any one who is unhappy about religion ; because there is something so obscure and confused in his ideas upon many important points. I must now, my dear , bid you farewell ; I need not tell you what pleasure it gives me to hear from you ; nor how earnestly I wish that you may find the peace and comfort you are seeking. My earnest prayer is that the promised "Spirit of truth" may be with you, to " guide you into all truth." The weaknesses you own to me are exactly what I have felt, and do feel myself; but God wiU overcome them for us, and enable us to "bring every thought into subjection to the obedience of Christ." I am sometimes afraid that my using so much Scripture language may appear like cant or affectation to you ; but I do it, because, when I express myself in the sense, and as much as possible in the words, of Scripture, I have less fear of misleading you, or of mixing my own earthly ideas with the pure and heavenly truths on which we are conversing.' Again — ' Stoke, Jan. 22, 1S27. ' Though I have not yet heard of you, I am sure that all things are going;' on well with you, since the very God of love is become your God, and will be your Father and guide forever. May you know more and more every day of His forgiving love, and be led to feel that you are with Jesus, " who has loved you, and washed you I On this subject, so embarrassinjT to many anxious parents, the writer is tempted to transcribe the sentiments of a Christian mother, to whose wisdom, tenderness, discipline, and prayers, he will feel deeply indebted to the end of his days. • With respect to chil- - dren's early distinguishing the Sabbath from other days,' as Mrs. Barbauld says on an- other occasion, ' I think a child should never remember the tirsttime he heard of God, — so it should be with reirard to the Sabbath. The remembrance of it may be drawn in al- most with the native nutriment, such as by attention to the church bells, the removal of playthinijjs, of mamma's work-box, &c. Little H , at five years old, of course is be- yond all this, and must be talked to in a way which she will understand, and with a "determination that the subject should be reirarded according to the will of God, not yield- ing to anything for which she may contend with you. As to little — — (not quite two years old,) if he makes sport of pictures, they must be sparingly used. But yet he will soon understand that he must be grave, or he will not have them ; and he will learn in time to make observations upon them, which will lead to restraint, especially if he sees his sister's employment under discipline. A pencil perhaps may be allowed him to try to make letters, or to sec a church drawn, as it is God's house. The reason of the re- straint, and the importance of the distinction of days, will soon be seen. Meanwhile, habit must be the child's teacher. If he cannot discern a serious amusement from a com- mon one, the weekly revolutionof the Sabbath will mark a ditTiTonce. The wrong names which he mav give to things is of little moaient, provided the distinction in the things is clear and marked.' MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 103 from your sins in His own blood !" O my dear friend, my heart is full of joy, when I think that the Lord has taught you to seek happiness in Him. " Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness'" — says this precious Saviour — ^"/or they shall be fUledJ''' Therefore from his own words I have a warrant to call you " blessed ;" and if He has given you himself, I care not what else He takes from you : knowing, as I do, that you can want nothing that is good for you, while the Lord of life and glory is yours. What a blessed prospect lies before you ! The same Spirit that has been showing you the vanity and sinfulness of your owni heart, will not stop short there. No ; He will " guide you into all truth ; He will take of the things of Christ, and show them unto you ;" He will " shed abroad the love of God in your heart ;" He will, in His own time, ''fill you with joy and peace in believing;" He will bring you on '■• from strength to strength," and " from glory to glory," till at length He removes you hence, to that heaven where you shall see Christ as He is, be like him, and dwell with Him forever.2 Now you have nothing to do but to live upon the fulness of Jesus, casting away your own righteousness, which is no better than fikhy»rags ; your own strength, which is mere weakness ; and your own wisdom, which is foolishness with God. You must put forth the hand of faith, and lay hold of the righteousness of Jesus, which he otfers you as His free gift, Rom. v. 15, 21 — His strength, which is sufficient for you. 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10. Ephes. vi. 10. Phil. iv. 13. 1 John iv. 4 — and His wisdom, which is also freely yours for Christ's sake. 1 Cor. i. 30. Only go on asking Him for more, more still, more of his precious love. He cannot deny it you ; for He has said, " that whatsoever ye shall ask in His name. He will give it you."^ You cannot ask too much ; for think of the great things the Apostle asked, Ephes. iii. 1-1^19 ; yet He concludes all by saying, --Unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think.^^ Dear , is not ours a happy lot ? " If God be for us, who can be against us 1 Who shall lay anything to the charge of Gods elect ? It is God that justifieth : who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ that died ; yea, rather, that is risen again ; who is even at the right hand of God ; who also maketh intercession for us^* Here is our anchor of hope— Christ died ; Christ is risen ; Christ intercedes. When Satan or our own evil conscience accuses us, we are too apt to look for comfort to something in ourselves. In this we shall always be disappointed ; if we look to Christ, we never shall. May He teach us by His own Spirit how to live by faith in Him ! I long to hear from you, and to know whether you have yet been able to find peace in God. This precious gift will, I know, be bestowed upon you. Do tell me all you feel, and let me often have a letter from you ; for, believe me, scarcely anything can afford me greater pleasure. 1 Matthew v. 6. - John xvi. 13 — 15. Rom. v. 5; xv. 13. Psahii Ixxxiv. 7. 2 Cor. iii. 18. 1 John iii. 2. 3 John.xiv. 13, 14. « Romans viii. 31—34. 104 MEMOIR OF MARY JAN.'^ GRAHAM. ' I pray that your communications may always bring me the happy news, that you are more and more devoted to our dearest Lord, in whom may we, my dearest friend, become daily more uni- ted. There is a common friendship which is very delightful ; but there is a communion of spirit peculiar to those who love the Lord Jesus ; and this is what I trust He will grant to us ; for it will last, when common friendship has been long withered by the hand of death. May yon be blessed with every spiritual blessing, and rooted and grounded in love ! This is the prayer of, &c.' The next letter exhibits accurate discrimination, and a high standard of Christian experience. ' I was much interested, my dearest friend, in what you said about mingling earthly with heavenly feelings. It is a difficult question ; and one which I am sure I am not fit to answer. Only I think we may in some degree know whether our lo\'e is of the right kind or not, by asking ourselves whether it really is God that we love in our friends, and in our connnunion with them ; whether we love those that are in (.'hrist incomparably more than those who are not in him ; and whether after all we could gife up the society of the very best and dearest of them all, rather than lose one par- ticle of God's favor. Surely we may love our friends, and that most dearly, for God requires it of us ; but then " he that lovetli father or mother 7nore than Him is not worthy of Him."' Love to our friends seems to be the purest earthly feeling: yet I think, if we find ourselves enjoying devotion in its social privileges, more than in personal communion with God, our devotion cannot have been altogether of a spiritual character. But while we lament over the weakness and inconsistency, which spoil our holiest actions, and defile the sweetest afl^ections God has given us, let us take comfort in the thouglit, " that we have not an high-priest who can- not be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." " He knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust:"''^ and (what should raise our gratitude to the highest pitch) he himself has been made dust, like unto our miserable dust in all things, except sin, on pur- pose that he might be able to " have compassion on the ignorant, and on those who are out of the way." There is such a clear view given to us in the Epistie to the Hebrews of the twofold nature of the Lord Jesus, that I derive unspeakable comfort from studying it. Scarcely any book makes me see so clearly that he is the Lord God "dwelhng in liglit inaccessible, whom no man hath seen or can see;" and yet that he is "bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh ;" able to enter into my feelings, to pity my weaknesses, and to sympathize with me in my temptations. Oh, if we could but dwell upon the wonder more! it is the "wisdom of God, and the power of God." " Angels desire to look into it ;" '' the spirits of the just" are forever learning more about it ; and I know of nothing ' Matt. X. 37. 2 Heb. iv. 15. Psalm ciii. 14. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 105 SO likely to make the souls of God's people here like those who are above, as the continual contemplation of this marvellous love of God, in manifesting himself in the flesh. Dear M , how soon we shall see him face to face, "whom having not seen we love!" Let us seek to become intimately acquainted with him here. Let us be often conversing Avith him, and always near to him, that he may not have to say to us — " I never knew you." He will never say this to us ; but our watchful enemy may in some dark hour suggest such a thing to us ; and then how delightful to be able to refute such a suggestion, by the memory of all (he intimate com- munion we have enjoyed with Jesus ! to be able to appeal to this dearest friend himself, that so far from never having known him, we have known, desired, loved nothing else in comparison with him ! Would that this were my case now ! But I feel as far away from Jesus, as if he were quite a stranger to my soul. My heart seems bent to backslide; and I cannot help continually thinking of that bitter complaint of Job's — "Oh that I were as in months past, as in the days when God preserved me, when his candle shined upon my head, and when, by his light, I walked through darkness !"i Still I know that God " will heal my backsliding, and love me freely ;"- for though I am changed, " He changes not.'"' But how strange it is, that our hearts should ever be so alienated from God, after having once known how sweet it is to love him ! Surely the character of long-sulfering, so often given to God in the Scriptures, has never been manifested by any one in so many in- stances as to me. Let us not forget, dearest M — — , to pray for one another, " that our hearts may be knit together in love, and vmto all riches of the full assurance of understanding."^ that we may daily increase in the " knowledge of Him, whom to know is life eternal." ' The interesting tone of Christian simplicity which the following letter breathes, is worthy of remark. ' August 4, 1825. 'You will perhaps be surprised to receive a letter so soon after my last. But I feel this morning an irresistible wish to write to you, to which I was moved whilst praying for you ; and in the strength of Jesus I will speak to you only of him. Perhaps I shall to-day receive a letter from you : I siiall be very glad, because I am so anxious to know that you have devoted yourself in the fullest manner to Him, who gave up his life for you. My dear , I do not know whether you are feeling with me; but it is a cheering hope to me, that 1, who have so often encouraged you in the great- est sin which a redeemed soul can commit, that of indifference to the service and love of the Redeemer, may now be an instrument 1 .Job xxix. 2, 3. 2 Hos. xiv. 4. 3Mal. iii.6. « Col. ii. 2. mniivnjiii i)* m/iiti jAi\Ji; triiAHA.vi. in llis hands to animate you to very different feelings. We have given way to a very unfaitlifui spirit in our fears, and in our repug- nance to speak in His name. Let us only believe, that when he granis us the inestimable privilege of carrying the blessed nesvs of Hid Gospel — " it is not we that speak, but the Spirit of our Father which speaketh in us.'" This feeling that we are nothing, but that He is everything in us, would give us a conlidence full of joy, and at the same time without pride. It is indeed the height of liappiness to follow him like a little child, to live in Christ, and out of ourselves. Oh, had I but a constant sight of his love ! but he '• is faithful, who will stablish us, and keep us from evil."^ Let us confide in Him; let us tell him that we are not able to move a single step towards Him, that we cannot love Him, nor believe in His name. His goodness will allure us. His power preserve us. His strength will be given us in exchange for our weakness, and we shall find an indescribable delight in being able to do all in Christ.' To her cousin she writes in this affectionate and encouraging strain : — ' November 27, 1827. 'Let me tell you, my dear friend, how sincerely and affection- ately I sympathize with you in the feelings you express with regard to the most important of all subjects. My dearest cousin, go on seeking. There are pleasures, rivers of pleasures, whereof the true Christian drinks with unspeakable delight; and in His own time Jesus, the good Shepherd, will lead you to these fountains of living water. Already He, who " calleth His own sheep by name, and leadeth them out'"^ from the world of sin, has called you by His own word, speaking to your soul. Do but be wilhng, as Levi, " to rise up, leave all, and follow Him ;"^ and you will find that He will lead you in the pleasant and peaceful way. For every vain pleasure that He calls upon you to give up. He will give a thousand solid and real pleasures, which it hath not entered into the worldling's heart to conceive.' The next letter, written to her cousin, marks the instruction, obligation, and encouragement connected with the hour of " trouble," — that time " to which man is born,"^ and when to the unhumbled and unsanctitied mind, the resources of the world often aggravate suffering, instead of contributing support. ' 3Iarch 20, 1825. 'Our meeting, my dear friend, must be deferred to a future time, if ever it takes place in this world. But there is another meeting, to which we may safely look forward, if we are the children of God tlnough Christ Jesus : and this will be in the presence of our best 1 Matt. X. 20. 2 2 Thess. iii. 3. 3 John x. 3. i Matt. ix. 9. 5 Job v. 7. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 107 and dearest Friend, who so loved us, as to '• purchase us with his own blood." How happy, how very happy it would make nie, to know that my much-loved cousin was making it the grand object of her life to seek for salvation through the all-sufficient Saviour ; and that we were united, not only by the strong ties of relationship and affection, but also by that bond of the Spirit, which makes ail the redeemed people of Christ to be of one heart and one soul ! Let us pray for this one thing, to be devoted to the Lord Jesus : it is a heaven begun on earth. The severe trial with which it has pleased our gracious God to afflict us,' has given us an additional reason to write vanity upon all human hopes and expectations: and I hope I may say, that it has driven us to seek for comfort in those things which alone can give any real relief to a mind under the pressure of grief. Painful indeed it is to speak about anything wliich brings with it such afflicting recollections. Yet I feel that I cannot, and must not leave it, till I have entreated you, my beloved friend, to join me in seeking a " friend that sticketh closer than a brother," wdiom no length of time, or adverse circumstances can take from us. Into his gracious ear we may pour all our complaints : " in all our afflictions he will be afflicted.''^ And one glimpse of his love will enable us to rejoice in the midst of tribulation. But there is one condition — " Give me thine heart."^ He must have all or none. A divided heart he will not accept. A heart that indulges in any one sin, that cleaves to any one worldly vanity, can never be the residence of His pure Spirit : he must have the whole heart, every thought, every faculty, every afiection must centre in Him. And who IS able to perform this condition? I am sure neither you nor I can: for we are carnal, and "the carnal heart is enmity against God."'' Well then, my dear , let us simply believe on Him to effect all this for us. Let us come to Him as sinners ; for "His blood cleanseth from all sin." Let us come as wretched, and pour, and blind; and He "will fill our minds with joy and peace in be- lieving," will give us " gold tried in the fire, that we may be rich,"» and will cause His Spirit to shine into our dark hearts, " to give tlie light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ."« True, we cannot love Him of ourselves ; but He can compel even our hearts to love Him. Oh may He reveal Himself to your soul, and give you such discoveries of His amazing love, as may constrain you to make Hini your "all in all !" ' In another letter, on the same subject, we find her taking her chair by the side of her afflicted friendj and, like a true daughter of consolation, "comforting her with the same comfort, wherewith she herself had been comforted of God." • Probably alluding to the death of her onlv brother. 2 Isaiah Ixiii. 9. 3 Prov. xxiii. 26. ' * 4 Romans viii. 7. 5 Rev. iii. 18. 6 2 Cor. iv. 6. 108 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. ' January ISih, 1828. ' My very DEAR Friend, 'A letter from — — -, informed me of the very heavy trial you have sustained. I did not like immediately to intrude upon your feelings ; and since then, illness has prevented my writing. How I have longed to be with you, and share your grief, though I am sensible of my inability to afford you any consolation ! But I could at least have mingled my feelings with yours, and told you, what however you need not be told, that your losses and afflictions must ever be in a measure mine. M}'' beloved friend, would that in partaking, as I most sincerely do, of your sorrow, I could in any way lighten or alleviate it ! But I rejoice in the thought, that faith has united you to one, who is the God of comfort; and his Spirit is the Comforter. May he shed abundantly of his precious influ- ence into your heart and your dear sister's at this trying time ! May he " lift up the light of his countenance upon you" both ! and t!iat will turn your mourning into gladness. Perhaps this bereave- ment will lead you nearer to Jesus : for we have an unfailing promise, that " all things shall work togel her for our good." " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth. even as a father the son in whom he delighteth. As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten.'" And then how sweet to be assured, that " in all our afflictions he is afflicted !" that in all our troubles he is near to help ; that in all our bereavements he is ready to fill up with himself the painful dreary void, which is made in our hearts ! My beloved friend, 1 do not say these things to you •' because you know them not, but rather because you know them," and are, 1 trust, at this time living upon them. How vain were it to speak to you of earthly comfort under the heavy loss you have sustained ! But this is the very time, when God's children often drink deepest of heavenly consolation ; and I trust it is thus with my precious friend. I know that our heavenly Father has afflicted you in very faithfulness ; and though for the present your chastisement must seem '• grievous" indeed to you, yet hereafter it shall bring forth in you "the peaceable fruits of righteousness. "2 In the meantime may you be taught to lay hold on the gracious invitation to " call upon God in the time of trouble !" Make David's words 3^our own — " from the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed ; lead me to the rock that is higher than I." " What time T am afraid, I will trust in thee." " My soul trusteth in thee, and in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast." " In the day of my trouble I will call upon thee ; for thoii wilt answer me."^ And may you, my dear friend, be able to apply to yourself the words of our God — " Behold, I have refined thee, but not with silver: I have chosen thee in the furnace of affliction. I, even I, am he that comforteth you — as one whom his mother • Romans viii. OS. Heb. xii. 6. Rev. iii. 19. 2 Psalm cxix. 75. Hebrews xii. 11. 3 Psalm 1. 15; Ixi. 2; Ivi. 3; Ivii. 1; Ixxxvi. 7. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 109 comforteth, so will I comfort you." "In a little v:rath I hid my face fiom thee for a 7nonient ; but wilh everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith .the Lord thy Redeemer."' I would not obtrude my own words upon you upon an occasion like this. But I may hope that the Spirit of truth will bless his words lo your comfort ; so I fear not to tire you with the repetition, for they are always new, — " O God, thou art my God."'^ Here is a balm for every wound ; yes, he is your God. Wisdom and tenderness shall f )rm the basis of all his dealings towards you ; and he, who is so wise and so tender, is engaged to do you nothing but good all the days of your life. I did not mean to have written so much, know- ing that even the sympathy of friendship luay sometimes be an in- terruption to our own feelings. But I now leave off, begging 3'ou to accept the warmest ailection of, &c.' How delightful is the confidence, which Miss Graham here expresses in the support of the simple word of God in the hour of aflliction ! Though her letter affords some of her own beautiful thoughts, yet her main effort is perceptil)le throughout ; not to strain her mind to force out something original or striking, but to bring forward the encouraging promises of scriptiu'e, as far more powerful than the product of her own thought. This is honoring the word of God. The next letter relates personally to herself, and gives a lively description of her state of mind, with a happy transition from her own playful spirit, to a more serious and edifying strain. 'Jpn7, 1827. ' I am sure that I am very old for my age. It is not common at twenty-four to live upon the past as I do. Most people would rather feed upon pleasant hopes of the future, but that is a thing I never do without trembling. It is not that I have the least doubt of everything being ordered for my happiness ; but I dread passing my life in this painful uncertainty ; and I think this requires more faith than to pass it in the most severe affliction. Besides, I am afraid of living in a kind of tertian fever : for either I am very hot or very cold. I am incapable of an equal temperament in anything. A person who knows me this month would not know me the next. I do not know myself; God knows me; he knows all my weak- nesses, all my vanity: however, all this does not cause him to for- sake me. When I stray, he seeks me ; when I return, he receives me with tenderness; when I doubt, he assures me; when I am unhappy, he consoles me. Surely he can give me strength to devote myself wholly to him, and not to turn away again from his ways.' Another letter affords a beautiful illustration of her spirituaUty of mind, connected with the recollection of her literary pursuits. 1 Isaiah xlviii. 10; li. 12 ; Ixvi. 12 j liv. 7, 8. 2 Psalm Ixiii. 1. 110 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. ' Clmdleigh, S'opt. 1827. ' You are then at ■ , where you lead a very pleasant life, but where you are not happy, because he who is your happiness no longer cheers you with his presence. I also am very gay. I am here to my heart's content. ; and 1 am not happy, because I cannot find my God — my beloved. I find that we "are the salt of the earth ;" but that this " salt has lost its savor, and is no longer good for anything, but to be thrown away and trodden under foot of men."' But the infinite compassion of Jesus will not suffer it to be so with us, and therefore he causes us to feel incessantly bitter inquietudes, which will not suffer us to rest without returning to him. In the meantime we are both in a new place, which we shall perhaps never see again. Shall we quit (his place without leaving there some savor of the name of Jesus Christ? It is delightful to be able to create recollections as exquisite as those awakened by the beautiful images of Petrarch and Tasso. But it is much more delightful to remember every place, where we have seen some soul converted to God ; this recollection will solace us at a time, when all the delights of our Tasso will appear but a vain dream. I do not say this bec^tuse I feel as I spjak. I see it in my understand- ing ; but it does not reach to my heart. However, 1 speak because I desire to feel it, and that you should feel it too. I wish to love Tasso, and our other studies, only for (he love of God, and to give all to his service. But I love them too much for myself; and yet I do not think it would be right to give them up, since they may one day be of use to me.' We will now present a few letters, which will introduce us to a nearer view of the exercises of her own mind. She appears to have been deeply harassed, in common with the gieat Apostle, with that painful conflict, which his own inspired pen has so graphically de- scribed in Romans vii. — a chapter which — though unintelligible to the world, and even to the merely external professors of the Gospel — unfolds more or less of the secret history of every Christian's heart. The following letter, of an early date, marks her mind exercised in the painful sense of her own deficiencies, while anxiously engaged in the pursuit of that knowledge, which was the basis of all that was valuable, both in her intellectual and spiritual character. ' June, 1823. ' No — I have not yet regained my peace of mind. It is a guest which will not dwell in a soul so weak and vain as mine. I have again read a passage in Mason. But I find, that although self- knowledge is the most excellent kind of wisdom man can possess, yet there is a sort of self-knowledge, which onlv debases and hardens the soul ; and this is exactly the kind with which I am furnished. And whilst true self-knowledge introduces order and J Matthew v. 13. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. Ill light into the soul, as when the sun enlightens the earth ; the self- knowledge which 1 possess rather resembles the lighlning, wliich shines for a moment, and shows all the desolation which the storm has produced, and which itself increases the desolation. To know one's self miserable, but not to be unwilling to use the means of being happy ; to know one's self a sinner, but to flee from and abandon the Saviour of sinners, has been a true description of my feelings.' To her cousin she expresses some grounds of thankful recollec- tion for Christians, who are called in " tlie days of their youth" to the service of their God and Saviour. 'My dearest . I seem to have so much to say to you, that I scarcely know where to begin. I am not now afraid of in- dulging in a little effusion of my feelings to you, as they begin to sit less heavy upon my heart. I begin to feel a sort of assurance, that it will ere long be "with me as in months past, when the can- dle of the Lord sliined upon my head." Yet I cannot tell you that I enjoy anything of really spiritual feeling. OA .' that has been too long stifled to awake at once to a)iy thing like life and vigor. ^ Dear , let us be more careful than we have hitherto been, not to quench the spark of Divine life in our hearts, not to suffer the love of the world to enter where the Holy Spirit has deigned to erect a temple to himself. 1 must tell you the thought which struck me yesterday, and roused me more effectually than any- thing for some time past has done. It was a sense of the blessed- ness of being called in our youth to the knowledge of God, now that our feelings are fresh, and our habits unformed ; before we liave entered into the pleasures, company, and temptations of the world. It seems as though we had, through the mercy of our Saviour, being turned from the broad path of destruction while yet upon the threshold— before we could have a long and weary way of sin to retrace. Are not these mercies, which call for our warmest gratitude 1 Shall I lell you another light, which then struck me more forcibly than I had ever felt it before ? Is it not a blessing to have been enabled to enter decidedly upon a life of religion, before we had formed any connection contrary to it ? Now everytiiing seems open before us. The narrow path has been for us divested ' The writer feels it right to notice this sentence as a subtle form of legality, ^ery prev- alent wilh young Christians, and not unknown to exercised Christians in a higher stage of maturity. The chastisement of the rod is indeed numbered among the rich provisions of the everlasting Covenant (Psalm Ixxxix. 30 — 32); and usually the Lord makes the backslidings of his children the instruments of his salutary correction. (Jer. ii. 19.) But let us never seem to dictate to him the mode of his discipline ; and especially let us not limit the absolute and unbounded freedom of the Gospel, which opens the way of im- mediate and complete acceptayice to those who deserve a more protracted banishment from his favor. The expectation of an indefinitely distant return paralyzes the present eflbrt; while the freeness of mercy opens the door of insUnt hope for the most hopeless, (Isaiah xliii. 23— 25,) and indeed induces the constraining motive to the first step of penitence. (Ibid, xliv 22.) 112 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. of half its difficulties ; and great will be our sin and misery, if we walk not in it wiih a cheerful devoted resolve, that every future step may be for his glory, who first led us into it,' The next letter displays the jealous though exquisite enjoyment of her sources of legitimate pleasure in the work of God. ^Hastings, July, 1823. 'I am no longer sad, unless a pleasure too profound for laughter or gayety can be called sadness. There are times when I feel un- happy, because I am so happy — because I can derive such exqui- site enjoyment from objects which pass aw^ay in a moment, while the things of eternal duration make only a liglit and fleeting im- pression on my soul. I cannot, however, forbid myself from en- joying the delights, which here present themselves every minute to my mind ; and you must pardon me if I fatigue you with many absurdities.' The following allusion to her early attainments cannot fail of interesting the reader. ' There are periods in the life of every person, which have re- spect only to tlie intellect, but which affect, however, all the rest of the lite, and to which may be traced up almost all the intel- lectual qualities which that person possesses. It appears to me, that the period to which my mind recurs with the greatest pleasure is that, when I began to learn Milton as a simple act of memory.^ What a low and unworthy motive ! However, when my soul began to open, to understand a little his noble ideas, so entire a change was made in my inclinations and taste, that I can hardly believe myself to be the same person.' The next letter gives a profitable application of Scripture, to- gether with an interesting train of remark. ' June, 1823. ' One text of Scripture has lately dwelt much upon my mind, and seemed like a sentence of condemnation upon my worldly-minded- ness and inconsistency. It is that short but expressive description of the conversion from sin — "And he rose up, aud left all, and fol- lowed him. "2 Oh ! what a warning — and yet by me unheeded warning — does it seem to rise and shake off these fetters of sloth and inactivity — to leave all, even the dearest friends, the most deep- rooted habits, which can come in the way of this grand end, and to follow .Testis through affliclion and difficulties, in all the meek simplicity and lowly dependence of a little child ! May he give us strength thus to follow his loved steps ! ]May he enable us to walk hand in hand, mutually encouraging and supporting each other, 1 See page 12. " Luke v. 28. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 113 till we come to the presence of his glory, there to abide forever ! I well know the feeling you mention with regard to another world. But when thinking of this, I am unfortunately apt to reverse it, and to consider the past as a painful dream, and the present as some- thing too disagreeable to be real; while I look forward to future hopes and schemes till the dreams of my imagination assume the shape of delightful realities ; and in stretching forward to them, I forget, that it is only in the sober and continual routine of present duties, that I can hope to attain those delightful expectations.' Her seasons of prayer appear to have been, in common with all Christians, times of severe conflict. The following extract, after alluding to the blots that too often deform the profession of the Gospel, adverts to this point. ' Torquay, April 12, 1825. 'How many ways there are of dishonoring the Christian pro- fession! some by ill humor; some by coldness; some by im- moderate zeal; others by the fear of man. Oh ! my dear friend, let us seek to ornament our profession ; let us see in the unlimited compassion of our good Shepherd, pardon for our past extreme luke- warmness, and Divine strength to shake off the drowsiness which oppresses us. Not only the prayers which I offer for myself, but those which I offer up for you, seem to be covered with a cloud through which they cannot penetrate. My prayers did I say ? I do not pray — I am frightened when I think of the state in which I am. If you are in a more spiritual frame, when at the feet of the Saviour, remember her who is gone so far away.' To another of her correspondents she thus writes : 'AjirW^Q, 1827. 'I can hardly tell you what a strange state I am in — one minute longing after holiness so intensel}^, that I feel as if 1 should die if I did not get it: the next so full of vain thoughts, that I hardly know what real spiritual holiness is. I never had such clear views of tlie extreme depravity of ray heart and life. Every day I learn something new about my helplessness and blindness, and dreadful wickedness. But though I can spread these things before God in prayer, I cannot mourn over them ; or if I do, it is from a sense of my misery — not from a view of Him whom I have pierced. Well ! I know this hardness of heart is a part of the complaint under which I groan, and which will be removed by the great Physician. But I am sometimes confounded by the seemingly con- trary answers I receive to prayer, though in the end I feel the deal- ings of God with me to have been wise and just. For instance — after having prayed much for a sense of sin, I seem to have been left to the power of it. I feel left to strive with a great enemy, who tramples me with the greatest ease under his feet. Let me not ua- 8 114 MEMOIR OF MARV JANE GRAHAM. justly murmur against my dearest and wisest Saviour. For he leaves me not lonor at the mercy of my cruel adversary, but ap- pears on my behalf often when I have the least expectation of it. One tiling distresses me very much. It is so strange. I have for some time past scarcely ever enjoyed a spiritual sabbath. I often enjoy a sabbath on week-days ; but when Sunday comes (I mean the last three or four,) all my spiritual feelings go ; religion seems the d idlest thing in the world, and vain thoughts the pleasantest ; I cannot tell you how the comfort of the day is destroyed. It was the case the whole of yesterday till quite night, when the accidental opening upon this little verse of Toplady's brought back the loveli- ness of Christ to my thoughts with such sweetness, and filled me with such longings after Him, that for some time I could not sleep : Less than thyself will not suffice, My comfort to restore ; More than thyself I cannot crave, And thou canst give no more. Oh, to be "filled with all the fulness of God!" to have "Christ dwelling in our hearts by faith !'' to be temples of the Holy Ghost ! To know that this is mine ; and yet for want of faith I so often make my heart as a cage of unclean birds. My dearest friend, I have chosen this verse for my portion, my treasure in this world and the next. I recommend it to you ; and I know God will give it to us, and abundantly fulfil our wishes above all that we can ask or think — Ezek. xliv. 28. What a glorious portion ! Hard as my heart is, and blind as my eyes are, I see and feel a little of its excellence : but then so often my soul forgets her joy, looks back upon the world, and shrinks from the choice, which a few minutes before seemed so unutterably desirable !' At another time she writes in the same strain. 'Mayl^, 1827. ' I think I would give up every prospect of worldly happiness that I have, or ever can have, to have these vain thoughts crucified and nailed to the cross of Jesus ; and yet often, the more I want to be delivered from them, the more obstinately I cleave to them, and I am so soon tired of praying against them. But the everlasting covenant fills me with hope and comfort — " I will put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not depart from me. I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts." " The next letter shortly afterwards is of a similar character. The spirit of tender carefulness that marks the closing allusion is worthy of special remark. ' Jer. xxxii. 40; xxxi. 33. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 115 ' Stoke, June 2, 1827. 'I never wanted something to awaken and alarm me so much as I do now. I think I could be content to have some very great affliction, if it would but restore me to communion with God. I told you how much vain thoughts had tempted and annoyed me. When I last wrote to you, I felt confident of being soon made more " than conqueror through him that loved me." But I have lately left off striving against them ; and now having turned " the house of prayer into a den of thieves," I know not how to cast them out again. Oh ! that Jesus himself would drive them from his teni- pfe, though it be with a scourge.' With regard to , I feel it more and more my duty to send my letter. But what I have writ- ten has been given to me, and I am afraid to finish it, lest I should, in my worldly and unbelieving frame, mix something of my own with it.' Yet her deep self-abasing apprehensions were not— except, pos- sibly, at seasons of temptation — tinctured with despondency. From the tone of many of the preceding letters it is evident, that she knew (he fulness of her resources in the promises of the Gospel : and in her prostrate humiliation of soul she did not cease to plead them to the uttermost of her warranted expectations. Thus she >^'rites to a friend : ' and I, and all took the sacrament yesterday. I never felt so much — ' the remembrance of these our misdoings is grievous ; the burden of them is intolerable.' Is it not great and free love, which has made that a burden to us, which was once our delight ; and that intolerable, which we once drank up like water? But what puzzles and alarms me is, that it should be sometimes in- tolerable, and yet not forsaken ; and sometimes at the moment when I feel it to be intolerable, the struggle to give it up is more intolerable. The only thing that makes me feel a holy hatred of sin, is the thought, that, even when it seems sweetest to me, the eye of Jesus beholds it as an evil and a bitter thing ; and I shall soon look upon it as He does. It is " that abominable thing which He hates.''2 It is that abominable thing which my wretched abominable heart loves. But then I do hate myself for loving it ; and I do not know anything I would not thank God for depriving me of, if it would tend to make me see sin as He does. I know this is the way you feel. Then let us take comfort in the thought that Jesus has done something for us, and to us who have (though so little) more will be given. " Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it ;" this often gives me comfort, (as indeed the whole of the eighty-first Psalm does): but then we can no more open our mouths, than we can fill them. God must open them wide, and fill them too. I feel so nmch comfort in thinking that we cannot open our mouths too wide ; we cannot be too greedy of heavenly 1 John ii. 15. ^ Jer. xliv. 4. 11$ MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. food, nor too grasping of heavenly riches. It is not presumption, but faith and humility, to expect that God for Christ's sake will fill our earthen vessels with an eminent measure of his heavenly treasures ; and the greatest eminence in Christian grace h to lose sight of self, to be willing to be least of all — to be nothing, and to look upon others as nothing, except as they are in Christ, and to look upon Christ as everything. But oh, how far am I from this ! Yet I do not despair. I have had glimpses of it. I trust it shall one day be the settled temper of both our souls. Pray for me, and pray that 1 may be enabled to pray for you.' The darkness and conflicts of her mind, were doubtless much in- creased by the active power of the enemy operating upon her enervated health. It is delightful, however, to mark the cheering irradiations of sunshine breaking in upon her, as marked in the following letter : ' November 21, IS26. My beloved Friend, ' I can almost say in the words of Scripture, which you love, that the winter of my soul is gone, and that the sweet season of the springing of flowers, and of singing of birds is come, and that the voice of the celestial dove makes itself heard.' I again begin t^) know what it is to walk, " as seeing Him who is invisible." But do not suppose that I am in a very spiritual stale. But the least ray of the light of his countenance appears immense, after so many weeks passed in darkness and rebellion. Oh ! my , let us exert every effort to find again the lover and the beloved of our souls. Who knows but his own time may come, in which he will fully reveal himself to us? Let us pray for each other, that we may be wholly separated from the world and from ourselves, and more closely united to Jesus, in whose strength we shall be able to do all things. I cannot feel that deep repentance that I ought to feel for my repeated transgressions. But even in this I see the Divine love, because every strong emotion affects my health.' Her views of the power of faith in prayer were most enlivening. 'I never pray.'^ — said she one day to a dear friend — 'without a promise.' On that promise she was enabled to rely with entire confidence. Referring to the fulness and power of the Apostle's prayer, Eph. i. 17, 18, and to that sublime doxolog}^, chap. iii. 20, 21, — she added, ' What a prayer was this ! How comprehensive ! How much are we encouraged to ask for ! Why then do we receive so little, but because our hearts are not sufficiently enlarged ? We are wanting m faith. We do not expect enough from God. We are straitened in ourselves. We are not straitened in God. How much more should we receive, if we " continued instant in prayer," 1 See Cant. ii. 11, 12. MEMOIR OP MARY JANE GRAHAM. m and "prayed without ceasing." We are like the King of Israel, who, when commanded by Elisha to smite on the ground, pro- voked the wrath of the man of God, by smiting only thrice, and then staying. Whereas, had he smitten five or six times, he would not only have gained a temporary advantage over his ene- mies, but would have utterly destroyed them.' Thus in our prayers we are contented with small success. We do not continue enough in the exercise. Even when our hearts have been somewhat en- larged, we have been too ready to desist, and rest satisfied without persevering till we have received yet larger supplies of Divine grace." To another friend she wrote in the same enlarged spirit of Chris- tian expectancy : — 'May\5, 1827. 'I see something of the love of Christ, which I would not lose for worlds. But neither do you or I see half what may be seen of it even in this world, if we a.sk in faith. Only let us not be afraid of expecting too much. Let us stretch our prayers and ex- pectations to tlie very uttermost of what " we can ask or think ;" and as sure as God is truth, we shall receive "exceeding abun- dantly above all that we can ask or think."'^ We shall receive all that Jesus can ask or think.' Her views of Christian assurance, as set forth in the following letter, were clear and scriptural. 'j7dy4,lS27. 'My mind is in a state of declension and deadness to spiritual things, which is the more awful to me, from having enjoyed nmch communion with God, a few weeks ago. I know not how to de- scribe this state better than by saying, that prayer seems to be my burden ; and evil thoughts my element ; and that, instead of maintaining a continued conflict against this inclination, I feel a kind of obstinate hardened disposition in my mind, leading me to yield rather to Satan than to God. But even during all this time, my evidence of being a child of God, though not brouglit with any realizing sweetness to my heart, yet remains quite clear and un- clouded to my understanding. But my evidence is this — not that I am now in a spiritual frame of mind (though that would be a delightful confirmation of it) — but that — let my state be what it will, — still I cannot forget, that I have cast myself a thousand and a thousand times upon the mercy of God in Christ Jesus. I have committed my soul to him; and, though I ani unfaithful and un- believing, yet [ know that he abidelh ever faithful, to keep that which has once been committed to him. Besides — I have told him 1 2 Kings xiii. 14—19. 2 Eph. iii. 03. 118 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. again and again — and that with agonizing earnestness, — what a weak backsliding- heart I have intrusted to his care ; and that, if he does not hold me up, I shall fall. And how can I think that he has forgotten all my prayer for keeping, and all his promises of keeping me, and that he means to let me full forever ? Oh ! I cannot think so. I cling to my assurance, and caimot but think, that as Christ — and Christ alone — is the foundation of it, it must be well-founded. I must think (I would say it with reverence) that God would cease to be " a faithful Creator,"^ if he could give up a soul that has been so often confided to his keeping. There is one verse, that in the darkest and coldest seasons comes with comfort to my mind. I know that I have often asked my heavenly Father for bread. Shall I think he has given me a stone ?^ I have asked him for the Spirit of truth. Shall I think he has put me off with the spirit of delusion V This letter illustrates the true character of Christian confidence, as exclusively based upon the word of God. It is independent of external excitement. It is the reliance of faith upon the immutable engagements of Divine faithfulness. Much that passes under this name is the assurance of feeling, rather than of faith. The con- solations of the Gospel are believed, not because they are declared, hut because they are felt. Hence, when the comfort is lost, the ground of confidence is destroyed. This, however, is an inversion of the scriptural rule — walking by sight, not by flvilh^ — unlike a tried saint of old, who when "walking in darkness, and having no light," had learnt to "stay himself upon his God' — "Though he slay me, yei will I trust in him.'''* Any encouragement, however, to be drawn from a past operation of faith must be carefully connected with its present exercise. Its first elTort indeed linked the Christian's heart in indissoluble union with his Saviour. Yet the principle must not be confined to a single act, by which at some former time he came to Christ. It is rather the continued habit of the soul, by which he is " coming''''^ to Christ in constant motion. In Miss Graham's case, the earnest- ness and intensity of her mind clearly marked the active though unconscious influence of the habit of faith, even while her recollec- tion was fixed — perhaps too exclusively — upon some former and determinate exercise. But was Miss Graham warranted in her strong assurance, in a state of conscious and acknowledged backsliding ? When we con- sider the character of her religion — self-suspicious, jealous of declen- sion, earnestly longing for conmiunion with God, content with no ordinary measure of conformity to the Divine image, we shall not be disposed to accuse her of presumption, or of a loose and careless profession. Hers was not a paralyzing security — a self-indulgent » 1 Peter iv. 19. 2 Hilect thy helplessness, and hush the stormy winds, that they ruffle not a feather of thy wing. And thus, Christian, if thou hast wilfully • Psalm XXXV. 27. 138 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. withdrawn thyself from the shadow of that tree, which spreads forth its branches for all the fowls of heaven to dwell in ; if thou hast made thee a home away from the Lord's people ; many a bitter hour of loneliness and desolation shalt thou have, while thou art " sing- ing the Lord's song in a strange land." Thou shalt rue thy folly, and be humbled for it. Yet be not utterly cast down, but still trust in thy God, who will not fail to rebuke and chasten, but will never leave thee nor forsake thee.' IV. — HER SENTIMENTS UPON MISCELLANEOUS SUBJECTS. We now conclude this long series of quotation, with some extracts of a more miscellaneous character. It is delightful to observe ail her views of science — extensive and accurate as they were — to have been admitted and enjoyed through a heavenly medium. Whichever way she looked in this wide ex- panse, her eye was transfixed in the contemplation of the unsearcha- ble mysteries of redeeming love. We may instance the following sketch of Christian Astronomy — extracted from her manuscript. Speaking of the withering influence of Mathematics upon the pleas- ures of the imagination — and having (as we have already seen^) suggested the study of classical literature, as furnishing some anti- dote for this evil — she further adds on this point : 'It is scarcely possible to pursue mathematics to any extent, without being led by them into some of those sciences, of which they form the vestibule. Astronomy — for instance — presents a field for the largest and noblest exercises of the imagination. The stars — ' the poetry of heaven'^ — afford not only perpetual employment for the reason, but unbounded scope to the fancy. The objects of astronomical study display a sublimity which exalts the imagina- tion; a mystery which humbles the intellect; a wisdom which enlarges every faculty of the soul, and a loveliness which soothes every feeling of the heart. They have, like their Divine Author — "heights, depths, and breadths" — unfathomable — inscrutable. Here we may soar, as upon the wings of angelic intelligence. Here we may expatiate, till our minds are lost in infinity. But with what unutterable astonishment does the Christian astronomer gaze upon the innumerable host! He is conscious that God is all around him. His mind is possessed by one idea — the presence, the immense, the all-pervading presence of the God who made and upholds all these. For an instant he forgets his own littleness, and becomes vast as the objects of his contemplation ; for there are moments when the human soul seems to expand into something of its original grandeur. But the humbling consciousness returns, as soon as his full heart will give him leave to think, and he shrinks into insignificance. It is nothing to be the least, the meanest of the creatures of God. But to be a fallen creature — this bows him to the dust. Sin has made I PaaeSy. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 139 him an outcast from the beautiful creation, an alien from the creat- ing God. A holy God is on every side : and he is not holy. ' But yet his thrilling awe is cheered with joy, hope and love. " The day-star arises in his heart ;"' and now every other star has a voice, " a still small voice ;" and tells a tale of love, which the angels delight to hear— a mystery, " which the angels desire to look into.""^ ' He who made us is •' the God of thy salvation." He is " thy beloved and thy Friend." Thus hath the God who made the heavens, who ordained the moon and the stars, been mindful of man, visited him in his low estate, and " crowned him with glory and honor."3 u p,aise ye him, sun and moon ; praise him, all ye stars of Ught; praise him, ye heaven of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens."* ' Christians ! you can " sing praises with understanding."^ All ye that love the Lord, praise the name of the Lord. " Praise the Lord, O my soul."*^ While this sublime science has been perverted (as in the French school of philosophy) for man's contemptuous rejection of his Maker, it is most refreshing to observe the magnificent illustrations, by which the " heavens," viewed through the medium of Christian philosophy, " declare the glory of God."^ In this field of elevated con- templation, the eye of faith "leads us up from nature," not only to " nature's God," but to the Christian's God— the God of his salva- tion. Here we discover what the " eye" of reason " has not seen, nor hath ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man,"' un- taught by God. If— as our poet of the Night has decided—' an undevout astronomer is mad,' even the devout meat of science \s not in the full possession of his faculties, nor in the enjoyment of the clear perception of the objects of his delighted observation, except he has been instructed in the highest school of Divine science, and enabled to trace in the Maker of the starry frame his God and Sav- iour—his faithful, unchangeable, Almighty friend. We pass to another field of science, of more general interest. Miss Graham's Musical Tract, already referred to,Mvill, it is be- lieved, be found to give an accurate sketch of the principles of its own department of the science. Its style is buoyant with life, beauty, and power. It occasionally mounts almost to the magni- ficent'prose of John Milton or Jeremy Taylor. Take the following as a specimen. Speaking to her young pupil of the importance of practising, she sends her to the woods and groves for a stimulating example of in- dustry. ' I can tell you, that the little musicians of the grove do not attain their wild and delicate modulations without practice. When I lay 1 2 Peter i. 19. 2 1 Peter i. 12. 3 Psalm viii. 4, 5. * Psalm cxlviii. 3, 4. 5 ib. xlvii. 7. « lb. cm. 22 7 Psalm xix. 1. ^ I Cor. ii. 9. ^ See page 41. 140 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. in bed last summer, unable to speak or move for many hours in the day, the songs of the birds furnished me with an inexhaustible source of amusing observation. 1 could not but feel grateful to the melodious little creatures, who beguiled me of half my pain, and made the weary hours of sickness fly away upon wings as light as their own. As if led by an instinctive sympathy, numbers of blackbirds and thrushes came to build their nests round our garden ; and the woodpigeons, which had been silent the year before, re- newed their soft notes in the high trees by the parsonage-lawn. However, they were shy, and I thought myself fortunate, if once or twice in the day, their gentle cooing found its way to my ear. But there was one thrush, whose notes I soon learned to distinguish from all the other thrushes ; indeed his skill seemed to exceed theirs, as much as Cordoba's' exceeds yours or mine. Every morning I listened for his voice, which was sure to precede the matins of all the other birds. In the day-time, his brilliant tones were mingled and almost lost in the general melody ; but as soon as the sun was preparing to set. when the blackbirds had either sung thenvoelves to sleep, or were flown off to keep up their festivi- ties elsewhere, then was my thrush's practising time. He was kind enough to select a tree not far from my window, while the other thrushes placed themselves at a respectful distance, and edged in a note here and there as they could. He opened the rehearsal with a number of wild trills and calls, which I could not well understand ; only they were very sweet and cheering to me ; and he would pause between each, till a soft response was heard from some dis- tant bough. But when he had fixed upon a little cadence which pleased hi.m, it became a more serious business. Strange to say, I could always tell when this would be ; for what pleased me particu- larly was sure to please him ; so true it is that nature has given the same perception of melody to man and to birds. He would chant it over in a low tone two or three times, as if to make himself sure of it ; then he carolled it out with triumphant glee ; then stopped short on a sudden, as much as to say to his rivals — ' Which of you can imitate my strains?' Their notes sounded most sweet at va- rious distances during these little intervals ; but they seemed con- scious of their inferiority to my favorite, who Avould suddenly break out into the very same melody, upon which he had doubtless been musing all the while, enriching it by some little note or trill, the wildest and most touching that ever came into a thrush's heart. I needed neither concert nor music-master, while I could listen to the untaught, but not unpremeditated, harmony of this original profes- sor : nor could 1 quarrel with the sickness, which had been the means of developing another link in that mysterious chain, which binds me to the rest of creation, by opening my ear and my heart more than ever to the language of universal nature. But I often wished to have you with me, that you might hear how much pains ' An eminent musical professor among the Spanish Refugees, to whom she was in- debted for much valuable instruction. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 141 the birds are at to charm us with their warbhng-. It is pretty also to hear the young- birds commence their small and faltering strains, which grow clearer and louder, till they are no longer distinguished from the rest. True, it is their profession, and we have many things to think of; but what time we do give to the study of music, we should give it with all our hearts, as they do.'' For elfective playing she gives the following sensible rules, inter- spersing them with her own happy illustrations. ' I have told you that to play a piece effectively, you must com- prehend it well. You must also feel it deeply. It is impossible to excite lively emotions in anotiier's breast, while your own remains untouched. There are two rules, which may assist you to attain quick perceptions of what is correct and beautiful ; and (witli the help of the mechanical rules I have given you) to bring those per- ceptions out in your own performance. The first is, to cultivate a constant habit of listening to 7tatural sounds. Everything in nature has a melody which goes to the heart, and from which we may gain some new and delightful ideas, I have called your at- tention to the song of birds. Then there is the bleating of flocks, and the lowing of distant herds, and the busy hum of insects. Above all, the modulations of the human voice afford us a per- petual source of observation. From thence we may gather the ex- pression of every stormy passion which agitates, and every tender affection which soothes the heart. Nor can we listen to the fairy tones of children, their light-liearted carols, their bursts of tiny mer- riment, their mimic griefs, and simply-told stories, without im- bibing some new and charming combinations of harmonious ex- pression. If music brings no lovely thoughts and associations to your mind, you are learning it to very little purpose. If it does, an intimate acquaintance with the music of nature will invest the ex- pression of those thoughts with a grace and refinement, which the most persevering practice will fail to impart. Take lessons of the winds and of the waters, and of the trees ; of all animate and all inanimate nature. So shall the very spirit of sweet sound and ex- pression enter into your bosom, and lie there, ready to pour itself forth upon the otherwise low and mechanical music, which the pressure of your hands produces on the instrument. One of Han- del's finest pieces is said to have been suggested by the labor of a blacksmith at his anvil ; so successfully did he watch for the harmony that lies wrapped in the commonest sounds. ' The next rule I shall give you is, to listen attentively to skil- ful performers ; noticing particularly what emotions are excited in your mind by every passage ; and by what means they contrive io produce the effect which pleases you. The gratification we derive from listening to music, is similar to that which poetry imparts to us. Both these delightful arts call into being a thousand beauti- ful imaginations, tender feelings, and passionate impulses. But in 1 Pp. 21—23. 142 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. reading poetry, we are delighted with the thoughts of another per- son ; and though a beautiful idea will give us new pleasure every time we recur to it, still this pleasure is little varied, and depends on the conformation of the poet's mind, rather than of our own. The delights of music are of our own creation. We become for the time poets ourselves, and enjoy the high privilege of inventing, combining, and diversifying, at pleasure, the images which harmo- nious sounds raise on our minds. The self-same melody may be repeated a hundred times, and inspire each time a train of thought different from the last. Sometimes it will call forth all the hidden stores of memory — absent friends, voices long silent in the tomb, lovely scenes, pleasant walks, and happy hours, come back to us in all their freshness and reality. Then the future opens its dreary prospects, gilded by hope, and chastened by a mournful tenderness. The exile is restored in glad anticipation to his country ; the prodigal sobs out his penitence on his father's bosom ; the child of affliction is safely lodged in that mansion where sorrow and crying are unknown. Sometimes the past is forgotten, the future un- heeded, the mind wrapped up in the present consciousness of subli- mity or beauty. Forms of dehcate loveliness, things such as dreams are made of, float before the mental vision, shaped into something of a waking distinctness. Thoughts too noble to last, high and holy resolves, gushings of tenderness, alternately possess our minds with emotions all equally different, and ecjually delightful. The po- etical inspiration of Altieri seldom came upon him, but when he was under the influence of music. Haydn's symphonies were all com- posed so as to shadow forth some simple and affecting story, by which the author excited and varied his own feelings, and wrought them up to that pitch of solemn pathos, or animated gayety, which to this day, inspires all who hear his music with corresponding emotions."' The Christian tone and descriptive beauty of the concluding paragraphs will be generally admired. They are in the style of her favorite writer, Jeremy Taylor. 'The expression of sacred music comprehends every emotion that can agitate the human heart, and must be felt rather than de- scribed. The subdued tones of awful adoration ; the impassioned fervor of desire ; the humility of prayer ; the wailing of penitential sorrow; the glad notes of thanksgiving; and the loud chorus of praise; all these have their own peculiar utterance, and must be pervaded b}' a depth and solemnity which shall distinguish them from the meaner affections of humanity. 'I am fearful of touching too lightly upon this hallowed subject. Many young persons, when their feelings are excited by sacred music, imagine themselves to be bettered by such feelings, and ti) be under the influence of genuine religious sentiments. But if the j)lain majesty of the word of God does not suffice to kindle an equal fervor within us, when we are reading it silently and alone, we 1 Pp. 25—26. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 143 may be sure that the emotions excited by the lovely songs and pleasant instruments of men are the mere ebullitions of natural feeling, and have nothing to do with religion. Those who would sing the praises of the Lord, must " sing them with understand- ing."' The undying torch of truth must be lighted up in that (jaculty, before it can set the heart in a flame. There exists not a more dangerous delusion, than to mistake the feverish excitement of the imagination for the cheerful and steady glow of a rational devotion. ' But while I so anxiously guard you against this pernicious error, do not for a moment suppose, that I would shut you out from the privilege which all creation enjoys, of sounding its Maker's praise. Oh ! there is a harmony in nature, inconceivably attuned to one glad purpose ! Everything in the universe has a voice, with which it joins in the tribute of thanksgiving. The whispers of the wind playing with the summer foliage, and its fitful moanings through the autumnal branches ; the broken murmur of the stream, the louder gushing of the waterfall, and the wild roar of the cataract, all speak the praises of God to our hearts. Who can sit by the sea- side, when every wave lies hushed in adoration, or falls upon the shore in subdued and awful cadence, without drinking in utterable thoughts of the majesty of God! The loud hosannas of Ocean in the storm, and the praises of God on the whirlwind, awaken us to the same lesson ; and every peal of the thunder is a hallelujah to the Lord of Hosts. Oh ! there is a harmony in nature ! The voice of every creature tells us of the goodness of God. It comes to us in the song of the birds ; the deep, delicious tones in which the wood- dove breathes out its happiness ; the graceful melting descant of the nightingale ; the joyous thrilling melody of the lark ; the thrush's wild warbHng, and the blackbird's tender whistle ; the soft piping of the bullfinch ; the gay carol of the wren ; the sprightly call of the goldfinch ; and the gentle twittering of the swallow. Even now when every other bird is silent, little robin is pouring out his sweetest of all sweet notes upon yonder rose-bush ; and so dis- tinctly does he thank God, who made the berries to grow for him upon the hawthorn and mountain-ash, and who has put it into the heart of man to love him, and strew crumbs for him when the berries fail, that my soul, too often insensible to its own mer- cies, is warmed into gratitude for his. The very insect tribe have entered into a covenant that God shall at no season of the year be without a witness amongst them to his praise. For when the hum of the bees and the chirping of the grasshopper have ceased to en- liven us, and the gnat has laid by his horn, then the little cricket wakens into life and song, and gladdens our heart with the same story till the winter is past. And so all nature praises God. and is never weary. If then you are able " to make melody in your heart to the Lord," let your hand and your voice make melody too, and ' Psalm xlvii. 7. 1 Corinthians xiv. 14. l44 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. let the faculty which infinite benevolence has created for your en- joyment, be converted, as all your other faculties should be, into the instrument of praise. To know that you make this wortiiiest use of your musical acquirements will indeed rejoice the heart of ' Your affectionate Friend and Cousin, ' Mary.' * The following exercise throws out some additional thoughts upon the connection of poetry and music alluded to in her tract. It was written in the form of a letter to her cousin, for the Italian master then in attendance upon them. As she wrote Italian with con- siderable spirit, and took some pains with the coniposition, it may have slightly suffered in a translation. ' 1824. 'My dear Friend, ' Yesterday I was told of an observation you had made in the conversazione of Mr. B. (where unfortunately I could not meet you,) and as I do not agree with you upon the interesting subject then discussed, I will make it the subject of this letter, begging you to excuse all the dullness, which you will certainly find in my composi- tion. Is it possible, that you have conceived so low an opinion of the pleasures derived from harmony, that they do not appear to you worthy of being compared with those of poetry 1 I cannot let you rest in this opinion. 'Allow me to impart to my friend some of the delight which I find in this enchanting art. Not that I wish to say a word against poetry — that purest and most sublime delight of the human mind. Too dear to me are its sweet illusions, in which the usual sense of the ills of the present life is lost, whilst the soul lives in a world properly her own, and sports with beings created and adorned by herself. My intention is only to show you that the pleasures derived from music are not inferior to those of poetry, that both proceed from the same source, and mutually assist and heigh- ten each other. You will perhaps remind me of the great antiquity of poetry, and that from the most remote ages it has been the solace of the wounded heart. But this I cannot yield to you. Indeed it appears to me, that music had an earlier birth, and was the mother of poetry. A shepherd one day discovered the flute which nature has formed in the waving reed. Applying it to his hps, he is struck with the beautiful sounds which issue from it, and he endeavors to imitate them with his voice, in simple songs celebrating the beau- ties of his shepherdess. By degrees the cadences of the harmony suggest to him the idea of rhyme and metre, and thus these two beautiful arts are formed together, with so perfect a sympathy l)etween them, that the one cannot be outraged without some injury to the other. Let us however leave this discussion upon the origin of these arts, (for it would be tiresome for us to search into the records of past ages,) and turn our attention to what is more interest- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 145 ing, the effects which, in every age, they have produced on the heart. I wish to search a htlle into your motives for giving to poetry so vast a superiority ; and the secret spring appears to me to be this : the charms of harmony cause a pleasure perceptible to the senses, and for its enjoyment require a certain physical conforma- tion, a fine and exact ear. and other things, which seem to have a connection with the material part of man. You have therefore persuaded yourself, that it is a thing delightful indeed to the senses, but which has little influence upon the mind and upon the heart. I flatter myself that I shall be able to convince you of the injustice of this idea. Not only does music give us many ideas, but they are of the same description with those inspired by poetry, and sometimes even more delightful to the soul. I allow that the sweet harmony enters by the ear. But thence it diff'uses itself through every part of the mind. It moves every passion, softens every affection, and creates a thousand delightful imaginations, a thousand divine pro- jects, which excite to all that is noble in resolve, and worthy in art. If I might draw a distinction between music and poetry, I should say that the former brings us pleasure of a higher degree ; the latter of a longer duration. Equally do they inspire soft affections and noble ideas.' Then, after following the same train of thought and imagination as in her Musical Tract,' she adds in her fervent glow — 'And shall not a science, capable of producing these senti- ments, be reckoned among the noblest delights of the human mind ? 1 have not time to continue this interesting subject. But I cannot conclude without observing, that the poets themselves owe their finest ideas to music. Do you recollect the power which it had over the mind of our favorite Alfieri ? He could scarcely compose with- out its help. Many of his noble tragedies were conceived at the opera. But do thou, divine Petrarch, come to help, and show her who admires thee so much, that without the music of nature, the song of birds, the murmur of the streams, thou wouldest not have been able to enchant her with thy delicious rhymes. With these beautiful verses I conclude my letter, already too long, entreating you to yield to his representation of the effect of fine sounds upon the mind. ' Se lamcntar angeli, o verdi fronde,' &c. ' You know the rest. I have only time to say, that I am always ' Your very affectionate 'Mary.' Without pronouncing upon the contending claims, (which proba- bly may still be a matter of dispute,) the exercise is not unworthy of the intellectual character of the writer, and is specially interest- ing, as a burst of that ' vehemence approaching to ecstasy,' which — as Mr. CeciMceenly observed — ' the world will allow on almost ' See the extract, pp. 124, 125. 10 146 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. every subject, but that which, above all others, will justify it.' If, however, Miss Graham seems here to contend for the precedence of music, she was no less warm a votary of poetry. Though she was no poet herself, and never till the close of her last illness did she exercise even a rhyming propensity, yet her perception of the true genius of the science was lively and accurate, and her enjoyment of its delights proportionate. We have already seen her high zest for Milton. Wordsworth was among her chief modern favorites ; and even Lord Byron detained her for a while the victim of his fas- cinating enchantment. We subjoin a letter of a very early date, descriptive of her feelings, with much discrimination of taste, and with all the glow of her characteristic enthusiasm. ' July 15, 1822. . ' I have not seen the Fourth Canto of Childe Harold. I am ashamed to say that I like Manfred. Diabolical as the sentiments of it are in many parts, yet there are some passages of such exqui- site beauty and sublimity, that it seems as if a human pen could scarcely have traced them. All the time I loas reading it, I felt I was doing so?nething icrong ; yet I read some of it over and over again, particularly the part where Manfred is upon the point of dashing himself over the precipice. The description of darkness did not please me. 1 thought it rather horrible than sublime. But I am just now in love with another poet, who is as fond of clothing his pictures with the sunny radiance of happiness and benevolence, as Lord Byron is of spreading over his, darkness and desolation. If you have read any of his trifling poems, you will smile when I mention Wordsworth. But some of his poems are so beautiful ! We have just now been reading ' the Excursion.' It is tiresome. in many parts ; but every now and then you meet with something so strikingly fine, or so unutterably tender, tliat it is impossible to go on. You must lay down the book, till the ferment it occasions has subsided.' Should Miss Graham's delight in Lord Byron's writings be a matter of surprise, it may be observed, that her letter distinctly re- cords the rebuke of conscience in her moments of self-indulgence : and we doubt not but her inattention to this rebuke subjected her to the secret frown of her jealous God. We may also add, that shortly after ihe date of this letter, she readily made the sacrifice of her taste (which to her fervid mind required no ordinary offort) in the total relinquishment of this source of deleterious pleasure. Whatever weight may attach to her judgment will therefore de- cidedly be found on tlie side of self-denial, not of self-gratification. Indeed, familiarity with works of poison, whatever be their literary charms, seems inconsistent, not only with Christian simplicity, but with a common regard to our personal welfare, Tofa pure mind we might have supposed that a rich and splendid fancy would be spoiled of all its attraction by its frequent connection with Hcentious MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 147 profaneness and impiety— moral deformity, sufficient to cast the most exquisite beauties of poetry and genius into the shade; and the very contemplation of which, except through a scrijjtiiral me- dium, must be injurious to the best sensibilities of our nature. Even the instruction resulting from the unveiled features of human depravity is obtained — if at all — at considerable hazard. For let it be remembered — as Miss Graham has shown' — that the direct in- fluence of poetry acts upon the passions, and thus tends to produce a corresponding habit of the mind. The evil propensities therefore portrayed by this master-mind with such awful exactness, and em- bracing every form of malignity that can darken the heart of man, naturally excite the working of those passions, which it is the grand design of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to restrain and mortify. Whether, therefore, the infidel poison acts with vindictive activity, or with searching subtilty, its pervading influence is equally to be dreaded. We believe that many Christians, especially in moments of temptation, are reaping the bitter fruitof former indulgence ; and we are persuaded that none will ultimately have reason to regret the sacrifice of the high pleasures of taste to the far higher claims of their own spiritual interests. We add one further quotation from Miss Graham's manuscript upon a subject not wholly unconnected with the preceding — works of imagination in a more legitimate, though still a questionable, form — Religious Novels. Observing, that ' the taste of the serious public is lamentably vitiated' — she adds, ' The press teems with re- ligious novels, from the long eventful story to the ephemeral trifles, which eke out tb.e pages of the spruce magazine. The greater part of these are feeble to a degree that would render them harmless, were there not a large proportion of readers, whose sickly appetite hankers after such unwholesome food. A few of them, I own, stand out from the rest, and compel our admiration. Yet, I must be per- mitted to say, that the very interest excited by these superior pro- ductions increases their bad tendency. How strange a medley of sensations agitates the heart, that is fluttering between the emo- tions excited by the well-pictured charms of religion, and the love- scene that is better pictured still ! How shall the young and inex- perienced distinguish between earthly and heavenly feelings ? How shall they determine, whether their agitation arises out of romance or religion ; from a heated imagination, or a heart warmed with Divine love? ' I cannot conceive the use or propriety of introducing this kind of sentimental narrative into works professedly of a religious nature. Truth is not adorned but disguised, by being thus tricked out in false glitter and tinsel ornament. There are but two classes of readers; the converted and the unconverted. Those oi the former description would derive more benefit and pleasure too from praying over one verse of the Bible, than from reading a whole library of the 1 See pp. 124, 127. 148 MEMOIR OP MARY JANE GRAHAM. above-mentioned performances. They will neither assist him to undersland the word of truth himself, nor to explain it to others. It may be truly affirmed of the decided Christian, that for his own sake, the less he reads besides the Bible, the better.' But for the sake of his fellow-men. his reading must be more extensive. He must seek to enlarge and confirm his general knowledge ; must be prepared to meet "inquiry, to cope with jjrejudice and error; to recommend the cause of religion ; " to become," with the Apostle, "all things to all men."^ It Is not, however, by giving his time to the works in question, that he will attain this desirable object. His mental character will only be deteriorated by their enervating influ- ence. They will tend to impair both the inclination and capacity for solid intellectual exertion. It has been urged in their defence, that they will open to him a more extended view of human nature. But this will be much more eflTectually obtained by comparing the scripture statement with his own daily experience and observation. Another argument in their favor is, that they afford a useful key to the character and manners of society. These, however, for the most part, are sketched with no very skilful hand. They might with greater accuracy and less expense of time, be collected from some of the masterpieces of authors not professedly religious. In short, considering that the Christian part of the community has so much to do, and so short a space to do it in, it must ever be matter of regret, that so large a proportion of their time and talent should be expended in making idlers and castle-builders. ' But toe turn our regard to the careless and gay. We are called upon to observe the effect of these publications upon their minds. We are reminded, that many young persons of lively imagination and warm feelings, who would scarcely look into a serious book, may be tempted to peruse these lighter works and derive benefit froiTi the perusal. I admit the first part of this prop- osition, but deny the conclusion that is drawn from it, except in a few, a very few instances, which are to be regarded rather as excep- tions than as a general rule. Rare, however, as these instances are, they are by no means to be despised. They indicate that every narrative of this description must not be included in one sweeping condemnation, not pronounced entirely useless, since the sovereign 1 This is rather a questionable affirmation. The general knowledge, which our Au- thoress admits to be beneficial to the Christian in the service of others, is of considerable advantage to himself. It enlarges his own mind. It throws much valuable light upon the cont'ents of the sacred volume. It not only qualifies him to expound it to others, but it enables him to elucidate many of its difficulties for his own satisfaction, and extends his views of its intellectual and moral, as well as spiritual treasures. Miss Graham's own case may be placed in opposition to her statement. As to Religious Reading, though an indiscriminate or disproportioned indulgence of it is most injurious to our simplicity and establishment in the Gospel; yet the writer may be permitted to observe, (discarding all reference to himself) that the labors of the pen as well as of the tongue, have been honored as a means of abundant edification to the church of God. See R. E. Bicker- steth's Christian Student— a most valuable development of the principles and obligations of Christian knowledge. 2 1 Cor ix. 22. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 149 grace of God will occasionally use even them for its purpose. But tliey do not prove the necessity of sending forth such immense shoals of these productions, that one would thinic liiey were designed to supersede and swallow up every other. A few would answer the purpose just as well. Even while I concede thus much, I am in- clined to ask — ' Do you not in a measure create the taste, to w'hich you profess only to accommodate yourselves') Will not this indis- position to all solid and valuable reading be exceedingly encouraged by your inilulgent connivance ]' 1 much doubt both the lawfulness and expediency of this mode of decoying people into religion. I fear that the quantity of good which flows from it is greatly over- balanced by the quantity of evil. The religion inspired by such reading is of a doubtful nature. There is more of earth in it than of heaven. A young person, whose tears flow over a professed novel, is in no danger of mistaking the excitement of feeling for the fervor of devotion. Not so with these ambiguous compositions. Romance and religion are bo allietl, that we may suppose the latter of these to be embraced, when in effect her presence is only toler- ated for the sake of her fascinating companion. Dressed in the sober garb of truth, she will too probably be rejecied by those, vyho permitted her to court them under the bewitching veil of fiction. And is it for the sake of exciting this spurious devotion, that we run the hazard of destroying the correct and simple feeling of the rising generation, and encourage the prevalence of a style of writing, which can never rise into genuine sublimity, or fix itself upon a basis of native solidity and strength ?' This extract will be generally admitted to mark considerable power of writing and of thought. The subject demands much accuracy of discrimination to place it in its true light. To proscribe works of imagination in the mass would include a much wider sweep of condemnation than novels religious or irreligious. It would banish from our reading much that is not merely purely innocent, but intrinsically valuable ; and seal up the fountain of much elegant and instructive hterature. We might indeed adduce Dr. Chalmers' writing, for the proof, that the corruption is in the application— not in the faculty — of the imagination, which was given, like every other faculty, for the service of God and of his church. But an infinitely higher authority meets us in the Divine parables of our great Teacher, immediately acting upon this most valuable faculty for the illustration and enforcement of his impor- tant truths. And this example is the more to our purpose, as fixing the limit and direction, as well as legitimating the employment of fiction. The imagination is placed in immediate contact with plain and sober truth ; while it derives its primary interest, not from its own representations, but from the truth which it was intended to exhibit. With all these allowances, however, the general introduction of fiction into the cause of truth, is, as Miss Graham observes, of very doubtful benefit ; or, even admitting the prospect of usefulness to be i50 MEMOIR OK MARY JANE GRAHAM. more determinate, it has proceeded very far beyond the necessity of the case. Even in worlcs of a rehgious character, we are too often caught up into an ideal world of poetry or romance, from whence the descent is somewhat painful to the sober realities of sin and misery — of " vanity and vexation of spirit." Now minds formed for effective usefulness need to be conversant with the solidity of truth, not with this visionary atmosphere of fiction ; while the in- dulgence of this artificial character fosters a baneful spirit of ex- citement : generates a distaste for well-regulated studies ; creates a taste for novel reading of a more detrimental character ; weakens the habit of self-control, so essential to the strengthening of the in- tellectual and moral principles ; and brings a habit of sentimen- talism into the religious profession, in the stead of simple and prac- tical spirituality.'' The most effectual remedy against this existing and unfruitful indulgence, is to fill up the time with those solid pursuits, which leave no room, while they mortify the taste, for works of doubtful utility ; and to bring our intellectual recreations to the test of the Scripture rule, which Miss Graham on a former occasion so justly inculcated, for the proof of the legitimacy of our principles and en- joyments : " Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do^ do all to the glory of GodP^ We conclude this selection from Miss Graham's writings and cor- respondence, with an abstract of ' Letters on the Duties of a Gov- erness,' a series of which she had contemplated for the use of her young cousin, then looking forward to this important and most re- sponsible situation. She commenced her plan during her last ill- ness, and with great difiiculty wrote two letters in pencil from her dying bed. Though too incomplete in thought and style for pub- lication, yet her manuscript will afford some interesting illustration of Christian principle, and many valuable suggestions of general instruction for the use of those young persons who are now filling, or who are prospectively anticipating this interesting station in the domestic economy. These letters appear to have been one of Miss Graham's last ef- forts for one, whose best interests formed one of her most tender ties to life. After commencing with the most affectionate ex- pression of her deep-toned anxiety for her, she thus proceeds to remind her of her Christian responsibility. ' The great wish of my heart for you,' she writes, ' is — not that you may be a very learned or accomplished governess, (though these are highly valuable considerations in their place) — but that, possessing as large a measure of these things as your means and ' Many works of fiction may be rcaJ with safi-ty ; some even with profit. But the constant familiarity, even with such as are not exceptionable in themselves, relaxes the mind, that wants hardening; dissolves the heart, which wants fortifying; stirs the im- agination, which wants quieting; irritates tiie passions, which want calming; and abandons, disinclines, and disquiliiies for active virtues and for spiritual exercises. The habitual indulgence in such readincr, is a silent, mining mischief — Hannah More. 2 1 Cor. I. 31. Comp. p. 42-i, 430. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 151 abilities will allow, you may he truly and decidedly a Christian governess. For, oh ! my dearest , yours is a charge of souls. The spiritual welfare of your pupils is subordinately committed to your care ; and at your hands will the neglect of this solemn trust be required.' In this first preparatory letter she is chiefly occupied in incul- cating upon her cousin the Christian principle of faith in Christ, in all its detailed application to the circumstances, trials, and en- couragements of the situation of a governess. ' 1 can only offer my advice to you as a Christian. I know but of two states to which children can be brought up ; for heaven or for hell ; for time or for eternity. I am departing out of time ; and knowing that both for you and them, time soon shall be no more, I dare not go upon any system but one fitting for souls born for im- mortality. Every word, then, that I write, must be on the sup- position that the glory of God, and the eternal happiness of your pupils, are your first aim ; and that every other object, however praiseworthy in itself, is only secondary and subservient to this one grand object of a Christian teacher's existence. 'I exhort you to enter upon the new and arduous duties of your situation, ^'looking to Jestis^^ Remember that he is " the author and finisher of your faith ;" that you cannot stir one step without his aid ; and the moment you begin to look off from him to any other object, that moment will your steps begin to slide. Fix your eyes, then, steadily upon him. "As the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress, so let your eyes be upon the Lord your God,- in all times, in all places, and in all circumstances." ' And first, I earnestly recommend you to " look unto Jesus'''' in your choice of a situation. Pray constantly for Divine assistance and direction on this most important subject. This implies that you intend to seek for a situation among God's people ; for I sup- pose you will hardly ask God to give you any other. You may deem it unlikely that you should obtain a situation in so limited a sphere. But your dying friend would remind you — " The God who has led me all my life long," never forsook me upon any oc- casion, when I put my trust in him. The word of truth assures you, that •' He has never forsaken any, who put their trust in him.'"^ Nor will he forsake you, if you commit your way to him on this important occasion. From Abraham's time until now. the Christian's motto has ever been — "The Lord will provide."^ Only " rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him ; fret not thyself in any wise to do evil. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and he shall direct thy paths."* I charge it upon you, beloved , as my dying, earnest wish, that you take every proper means to obtain a situation among decided Christians ; and that, as far as it may be in your power, (for I know that it may not be always possible ' Hebrews xii. 2. - Psalm cxxiii. 2. ^ Psalm ix. 10. * Gen. xxii. 14. 5 Psalm xxxvii. 7, 8. Prov. iii. G. 162 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. for you to direct your own conduct.) you join yourself to those who "are not of the world,'" and. to no others. An established Chris- tian might go in faith under the clear guidance of Providence, into a worldly or irreligious family ; and (it" the parent would allow of her interference) she might be made a blessing to the whole family. But such a step, iDilfidly taken, would be a serious— perhaps a fatal— injury to an undecided Christian. In a vast mullitude of cases, the natural consequence of choosing a lot among the children of this world has been, that indecision in religion has become indif- ference; indifference has terminated in aversion; and the wretched professor has shown herself openly on the side of the world, tor- mented with the sting of her former convictions, and vainly con- trasting her worldly mirth with " the voice of rejoicing and salva- tion," which she had heard "in the tabernacles of the righteous."^ ' On the other hand, a situation in a truly Christian family will cover you from many worldly temptations, and alford you many- important opportunities of marking the beauty and happiness of relioion. Under a kind Christian mother, you may be directed and encouraged in extensive usefulness to your pupils, while at the same time you are receiving valuable advantages for your own mind. Under all circumstances, be assured that you will find the blessing of taking the first great step of your life— " looking unto Jesus." '" Look 7into Jesus'^ also, for strength to 'perform the duties of your situation. These you will find to be many and arduous, such as in your own strength you can never rightly perform. The more correct and enlarged your view of those duties, the more readily you will sink under them, unless you can " be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might." But remember, " you can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth you." "His grace is sufficient for you;''^ and his encouragement is — "Ask, and it shall be given you." Let a sense of your continual need stir you up constantly to apply to him for his aid, not only in your spiritual duties, but in your teaching, in your studies, in the very least and meanest of your employments. Thus "out of weakness" you will be made " strong." You will not soon " be weary in well doing ; for they that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength."^ ' Look to him fox counsel in the difficulties of your situation. Remember that he is not only your strength, but your " wisdom." When your path is so intricate and perplexed, that you know not which way to turn, then ask the Lord to " lead you in a plain path," to " order your steps in his word."^ In every little, as well as in every great perplexity, follow David's rule to " inquire of the Lord."* The advice of friends is ever to be sought and valued ; but that of the kindest and v. isest may sometimes be insufficient or erroneous, 1 John xvii. 25. 2 Psalm cxviii. 15. 3 Ephes. vi. 10. Phil. iv. 13. 2 Cor. xii. 9. Matt. vii. 7, 8. 4 Gal. vi. 9. Isa. xl. 31. 5 ps. xxvii. 11 ; cxix. 133. 6 1 Sam. xxiii. '2, 4, 9—13. -3 Sam v. 19, 23. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 153 or given in a harsh injudicious manner. But the Lord giveth not only advice, but "wisdom, liberally and without upbraiding."' ^'•'■Look nnto Jesus'^ for comfort and encouragement in all the trials and disappointments of your situation. The life of a governess is peculiarly subject to little daily crosses and vexations. These, as well as greater ones, are to be borne, by laying them upon Jesus. No burden is too great or too Uttle to be cast upon the Lord. A cheerful looking unto Jesus, an assurance that he ever loveth and ever caret h for us, will bear us through many petty annoyances, which somelimes wear health and spirits much more than real and great grievances. ' Lastly, '• Look unto Jesus'' for a certain reward upon yoin- labor. You have a promise—" Train up a child in the way he should go; and, when he is old, he will not depart from it."- Ask for patient, earnest faith, to plead this promise importunately, incessantly with him. "All the promises of God are yea and amen to us in Christ Jesus ;"^ and while we pray for, we ought to expect their fulfilment. " He is faithful that promised."'' The great Sower will assuredly watch over the seed that is sown in faith, and will bring it to per- fection. You may labor day after day for the souls of the children under your care, and yet see them as careless and unconcerned as ever ; but look steadily unto Jesus ; tarry contentedly the Lord's leisure ; "for in due time^you shall reap, if you faint not.'' '« In her second letter she enters into a detail of some of the plea- sures and discomforts of the life of a governess. Under the former head she remarks : ' The life of a governess, however dull and monotonous it may sometimes be thought, has many pleasures of a very refined and superior nature. Among the first of these, I reckon the usefulness and importance of the task in ichich she is daily engaged. Com- pare the recollections of a day spent to some valuable purpose, with the reflections which follow one that has been frittered away in trifling and vanity, or absorbed in selfish gratifications ; and you will see at once, if you know it not already, how great the pleasure of usefulness must be to every rational thinking being. But to the Christian, this is not only pleasing, but necessary. It is his pleasure and deliglit to lay himself out for the glory of God, and the good of his fellow-creatures. For this he is content to " wait all the days of his appointed time ;"'^ and much as he longs for the pleasures that are prepared for him above; yet if his abiding in the flesh be need- ful for the sake of one living being, he would not "depart," even "to be with Christ."'' I knovv' of no employment in which a Christian woman can be more profitably engaged, than in Avatching over the spiritual and mental improvement of children. The young beings intrusted to her care may form the comfort and delight of parents, brethren, husbands, friends, children. They may grow up 1 James i. 5. 2 Prov. xxii. 6. 3 2 Cor. i. 20. *■ Heb. x. 23, 5 Gal. vi. 9. 6 Job xiv. 14. t See Phil. i. 23, 24. 154 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. to be happy in themselves, and blessings to society. Above all, they may be so many "jewels" added to the Redeemer's crown, and may themselves " turn many souls unto righteousness." To be the instrument (under God) of the smallest particle of this good, must be inexpressible delight. Notliing invigorates our pj'ogress so much as encouraging prospects of success. This is the undoubted privilege of a teacher of youth. Not to speak of those promises of God, mentioned in my last letter, and which of themselves suffice to make us " against hope to believe in hope,'" the human probabilities of moral and in- tellectual improvement, from which God permits us to draw en- couragement, are most enlivening. To reform the manners, to eradicate the prejudices, to correct the tempers, of those whom age has matured, and set as it were in the form which they must after- wards retain, is indeed a most difficult task. Bat with the young, where we have to form instead of to reforin, to prevent rather than to eradicate : patient instruction, and unremitting watchfulness, will, in ordinary cases, succeed to a very considerable degree. And though divine grace only can subdue their evil tempers and dispo- sitions, human means may do much towards restraining that out- ward violence, which so so often makes young people not only wreiched in themselves, but an occasion of sorrow to all connected with them. The same advantage is connected with Christian grace and improvement. The minister preaches with holy ear- nestness to his adult congregation : but it is to the young of his flock not yet hardened in sin or in worldly habits, that he turns with pe- culiar hope and encouragement. To this comparatively tender and unoccupied soil, he consigns his seed, in the cheerful confidence that it will spring up, and bring forth fruit to perfection. These are the hopeful beings with whom you will have to deal ; and as youth is the season of hope and expectation, so is your task pecul- iarly one of hope and glad anticipations. ' In the attachment of her pupils, a kind governess finds another perpetual source of pleasure. This you are almost sure to obtain by a habit of considerate and affectionate intercourse with them, especially if they come under your care at an early age. It is delightful to be beloved by those, whom w^e have thus bound to us by the cords of gratit.ude and love. For the justness and clearness of most of their notions ; for their ability to discern what is good, and to enjoy what is delightful and intellectual ; for all their knowledge and many of their pleasures, your pupils will prob- ably (if you conduct yourself according to my hopes) be indebted to you. They will scarcely ever fail to manifest warm attachment to one, who has so many claims on their gratitude. They must love their faithful adviser, their kind and intelligent teacher, their cheerful, entertaining companion, and their affectionate and sympa- thizing friend. I Rom iv. 18. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 156 ' The improvement of your oivn mind is also a source of inex- pressible delight. A conscientious governess will be perpetually and delightfully improving herself. While explaining subjects to her pupils, her own views become clearer ; while she is teaching them facts or words, her own recollection of them is refreshed and strengthened. The arrangement of her knowledge for the use of her pupils is of the highest advantage to herself. She must learn to think clearly, that she may be able to express her meaning clearly to her young and ignorant auditors ; and if her own acquaint- ance with the subject be obscure, imperfect, or superficial, the attempt to teach will soon discover it to her, and compel her to correct it. Thus her previously acquired knowledge will be more solid and permanent, while she will be continually adding to its store. Often she may not be able readily to answer her pupils' questions. Further researches, therefore, on her part are necessary ; and thus the demands of her teaching stimulate to perpetual increase of her attainments. ' I mention one more privilege connected with the life of a gover- ness. Next to the improvement of her own mind, and indeed be- cause of the improvement that it yields to her own mind, is the pleasure of gaining an insight into the minds of others^ into the human tnind in general. In cultivating a flower-garden, there are few pleasures equal to that of watching the tender buds, as they unfold, one by one, their beauteous petals. How delightful is it to admire the wisdom of God, who teaclies them to peep in due season from their mantle of green ; bids the sun to clothe them in all the colors of the rainbow ; and endues them with shapes so varied, and so perfect, that the little flower has been the joy and solace of man's breast in every age ! But what is this to the pleasure of watching the mind of a little child, as those faculties which lay wrapped within its tiny folds begin gradually to expand, each in its order ; every day witnessing the drawing forth of some new idea, or the unfolding of some latent power? And at a later age to watch those powers and faculties, as they daily improve and strengthen ; to see the unformed and untaught child, grow up before your eyes into the graceful, refined, and intellectual woman ; to mark every step by which it is effected, and to be yourself employed as an instrument in effecting it ; all this is a source of such continual and ever-varying delight, that to my mind it amply compensates for the tediousness and fatigue of teaching. And then there is the pleasure of watching, not only different faculties, but different minds ; ol comparing their several degrees of development, and the peculiar combination of faculties, which constitutes the formation of each peculiar turn of mental temperament. You may probably find among your pupils many instances of this endless variety ; the more quick and ready mind ; the lively and imaginative ; the clear and decided ; the solid and steady ; the strong, the deep, the energetic, the inquiring, the contemplative. You will find that each of these will develop itself in a peculiar manner, and put forth their several 156 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. powers and faculties with diffeient degrees of vigor and perfection. As an intelligent gardener, in order that his different flowers may open and expand to perfection, exposes them to every degree of air and heat, and treats them with every variety of soil; so will you find the most varied modes of treatment necessary in assisting the development of your mental blossoms, and in contending with the defects peculiar to each. These will be gradually suggested to you by experience ; and will assist you much in combating the defects of your own mind, wiiich the coarse of your teaching in a watchful habit of self-inspection will bring before you. And as I he child is but the copy of the man. you will thus be better enabled to discern the intellectual beauties and defects of those with whom you con- verse. The dull and prosy cease to be wearisome, while we are easily employed in inquiring into the causes of their imperfections, how they might have been, or might still be corrected. The advantages you loill gain in ivatchhtg the tempers and dispositions of your pupils will be yet more valuable and impor- tant. This, however, is a less pleasing task. The fall of man, though it has made shipwreck of every mental faculty, has still left the wreck as it were, the sadly obscured and mutilated remains of what was once so noble and beautiful. But our tempers and dis- positions it has totally perverted. To study the varieties of the natural heart, is but to study selfishness and pride, in all the vari- ous forms of virtue and vice, which they have assumed for the delu- sion and destruction of mankind. Yet, the high importance of this study, with the word of God for our guide, will fully compensate for its painful disappointments. If God gives me life and strength, I shall again have occasion to touch on these points ; I will therefore leave them now, and proceed to some of the disadvantages connect- ed with a governess's situation ; not to discourage you, but to pre- pare you, if T can, in some cases to avoid, in others, to meet them cheerfully.' Her exhibition of the discomforts of the life of a governess shows much good sense and knowledge of character in the true spirit of Christian sympathy. The most delightful characteristic, however, is the habitual bent of her mind, ever turning, like the magnetic needle, to the point of attraction. Thus, in the first inconvenience that she mentions, the separatio7t of the governess from her own domestic circle — she naturally draws out an application, which seems to say with the church of old — " Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?'" ' This grievance,' as she justly observes, 'is often lighter than is anticipated. Strangers cannot live long in the same house without ceasing to be strangers ; and where there is a due propor- tion of encouraging kindness on the one hand, and of respectful confidence on the other ; friendsliip will soon take place of strange- ness and reserve. This is particularly the case, where both parties are sincere Christians. The love of their common Lord begets sucli ' Canticles iii. 3, MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 157 feelings of union and sympathy between them, that the hand of fellowship is soon held forth and accepted, as if they had lon^r known and loved each other. They know so much about each other, of which the rest of the world is ignorant ; they feel them- selves so much of " strangers and pilgrims upon earth," that they cannot but rejoice at meeting with a fellow-sojourner, who, like themselves, "has no continuing city, but seeks that better coun- try,"' to which their own steps are directed. ^Vdded to this general feeling amongst the Lord'^ people, the Christian mother may surely be expected to receive with peculiar interest and aOeclion the young person whom she has engaged to assist her in bringing up for God those dear objects of her love, for whose temporal and spiritual wel- fare she cries unto Him night and day. Even should you fail of obtaining this privilege ; should your employers be ever so cold and distant; still tiie affections of your pupils conciUated to you by af- fectionate and judicious treatment, will be objects of incessant in- terest to fill up the void in your heart, in the consciousness of loving and being loved. And I think that a teacher of youth thus blessed and encouraged will seldom be inclined to reckon her condition very desolate or forlorn. But even should this comfort be denied you (a misfortune I hope and trust very vmiikely to happen in your case), I have to remind you of another source of consolation, which can never fail or disappoint you. If you now give yourself to Jesus, you can never be wholly amongst strangers ; for your best, dearest friend — one who is " born for adversity, who sticketh closer than a brother"' — is with you, yea, and has promised to be " with you to the end of the world."- And oh ! what a friend and comforter is Jesus ! How abundant in loving-kindness ! How tender in sym- pathy ! How rich in counsel ! How " meek and lowly" in re- proof! How wise to direct ! How mighty to help ! How slow to anger ! How ready to forgive 1 What a faithful, unfaihng, prom- ise-keeping friend !' Against ' the feeling of afflictive solitariness' — a measure of which, under the most favorable circumstances, must belong to absence from the happy family circle— she suggests the following alleviating considerations. The Christian turn which she gives to the first suggestion is exquisitely beautiful : ' Think first., what a common privation it is. Almost every family disperses, as the younger part arrive at maturity. One son perhaps remains at home to support his fcither's declining years, and to fill his place when he shall be no more. The others betake themselves to distant parts, and are often content to look forward to a re-union in ten, twenty, or thirty years. The daughters probably marry, and accompany their husbands to remote situa- tions, from whence they return once in a few months or years, to visit the still dear party at home. This you will say is an unfair comparison. For the happy young wife goes with her husband, ' Hebrews xiii. 14 ; xi. 16. * Matthew xxviii. 20. 158 MEMOIR OF MARV JANE GRAHAM. who is more to her than all the friends of home ; and she is soon settled ill a new home; and surrounded by a family and friends still dearer to her than those she has left. True, my dear ; and this is what 1 wish you to bear upon your mind in every trial you may have to encounter. The happy wife misses not the home of her youth ; because, wherever she goes, she carries with her that which is better to her than home ; and her pleasures now are supe- rior to those she has relinquished. And tluis the devoted Chris- tian, whether married or unmarried, has with her, wherever she goes, the cheering presence of one, who is far dearer to her than husband, parents, brothers, sisters, or friends. She has made her home in the bosom of her God and Saviour. Thither she flies for sympathy and direction. In that kind bosom she can pour forth her joys and sorrows, far better than to the tenderest relatives or friends. She has nothing " in heaven besides her God, nor on earth any she desires in comparison of him." She must feel as a stranger even in her own home, if it be composed of such as know not the name of Jesus ; and wherever that beloved name is known and esteemed, there she is happy and at home. Go where she will, she cannot journey to the place where God is not ; go where she will, she is still drawing near to that home, on which her thoughts and affections are fixed.' Another ground of alleviation is very pointedly and sensibly set forth. 'This painful separation from home, is in reality (under present circumstances) the best and happiest thing for you. Were two situations equally eligible to present themselves, and were I asked to assist you in your choice, assuredly the one near home would not be the object of my preference. A continual recurrence to the com- forts and liberty of home, makes every little restraint and discom- fort of a situation doubly irksome and annoying. The poor gov- erness, who has the misnamed privilege of perpetual access to her home, returns from it in no very favorable mood to a place where she cannot (at least at first) be loved, caressed, and appreciated, as amongst her own friends. It is but too natural, that she should consider every little departure from the unlimited and perhaps in- judicious indulgence, which she has just experienced, as an actual deviation from the law of kindness and equity ; that she should magnify every real or fancied slight into contempt, every expression of disapproval into a harsh reproof, and every degree of strictness in requirement into an unreasonable exaction. Soon the very near- ness of her home tempts her steps thither again. There the well- lilled budget of petty trials and vexations, which few young per- sons have the wisdom to conceal within their own bosoms, or to tell to none but God, is emptied out before partial relatives, who hear but one side of the story, and are too apt to take it for granted, that there is no other way of telling it. They cannot refuse to sympathize and console ; and while they are wondering that such an attention was omitted, such a fault found, or such a duty ex- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. » 159 acted, they little suspect themselves to be the cause of the forlorn and disconsolate state of their dear relation. Nor does the evil end here. Her mind divided between her pupils and home, cannot fully and affectionately employ all its energies in the service of the former. Too often will her absent looks and languid attention be- tray the fact so injurious for pupils to discover, that her mind can wander as well as theirs : and that their improvement and enter- tainment are objects which soon slide out of her thouglits, when occupied by subjects of more pleasant contemplation. Nor have I yet made the obvious remark, that the time lost in these frequent visits, however short, must deprive her of many opportunities of private improvement ; and thus prove in the end extremely detri- mental both to herself and her younger charge. From these con- siderations, a moderate distance from home is far preferable, from whence at stated and proper intervals you are permitted to revisit your friends. And I think that such reflections as these might en- able us to bear the discomforts even of a long separation from home, not merely with patience, but with thankfulness. 'I cannot quit this subject without strongly cautioning you, not too hastily to accuse the parents of your pupils of being unkind or unreasonable, because they are not willing to grant you leave of absence whenever you think fit to ask it. They, perhaps, with more justice, may think the unreasonableness to be all on your side. It is both right and natural, that they should anxiously desire the improvement of their children in every branch of instruction to which their attention has been directed ; and they know that this is only to be attained by a steady course of persevering application. They know that every interruption to this course must have a pernicious effect, by weakening habits newly formed, and permitting old and bad habits to revive ; by unsettling the mind in all its pur- suits, and blotting out much of what has been already learned. If, therefore, they oppose your absence, it is because they value your services too much to part with them lightly, or without sufficient cause. There are few cases in which you ought not to submit to their decision. But the best way to prevent any future misunder- standing or disappointment, is to make some arrangement before you enter upon your situation.' "^The frequent change of situation, or tlie liability to this change. is well pointed out as a serious evil attending the life of a governess. ' Her duties,' it is observed,' are becoming easy and delightful to her ; she is beginning to rejoice in the growing attachment of her pupils ; she feels that she can look round on their little faces with. a degree of maternal affection ; when some unexpected cause induces or compels her to reUnquish her situation. She has long been employed in clearing away the rubbish ; in laying the foundation ; and in collecting and arranging the materials of her intended super- structure, which was beginning to rise with a daily increasing order and symmetry. This state of things might probably appear rude and unfinished to the eye of others ; but it was full of hope and 160 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. interest to her, who had been watching its progress from day to day, and cot)fidentIy awaiting tlie happy, though distant completion of her labors. Her work must now pass into the hands of another, who neither witnessed its commencement, nor can be aware of many important points connected with its progress. The new teacher, however, succeeds to all the benefits of that preparatory drudgery, with which her predecessor had hoped to pave the way for her own future exertions. It seldom happens that the children are not seriously injured by this change of system. The very act of changing has a tendency to unsettle the mind. The new comer's manner, her new mode of expression, and new system of teaching, must render her at first less intelligible to tiiem, than the familiar voice to which they have been accustomed ; and till this disadvan- tage is conquered; her services must prove less effective. Besides, too often the new governess, confident of the superiority of her own methods of instruction, hastily puts aside the rules and arrangements of her predecessor — not because they are not good, but as if they could not be good, because they were not her own. Then the children also are discouraged and thrown back in many of their studies, that they may be grounded in them on the new system. Perhaps ere long another change is determined — a new teacher comes — and the best methods are displaced by others that are r\ewer and better still. The result of this broken and interrupted educa- tion will be a sort of clumsy patchwork, made up of a medley of fine and coarse materials, ill-contrived, ill-assorted, and loosely put together. These are some of the real injuries inflicted on children by the frequent change of domestic administration. ' M}'- chief concern, however, is with the governess. In addition to these mortifying circumstances, she is again thrown upon the world. She must once more take up her abode amongst strangers ; her pupils are again unfamiliar to her ; she must study their tem- pers ; conciliate their affections ; examine and arrange their present acquirements : in short, she must encounter anew every former difficulty. And when all this is effected, and things begin to glide smoothly on, another change, another loss of time and labor, may yet be in prospect for her. The web may be again imravelled ; the stone, that had been heaved half-way up the mountain, may roll down again to its very foot. I have dwelt strongly on the evils re- sulting from a frequent change of situation — not by way of dis- couragement, but of warning. I am persuaded that, in a large majority of cases, young people might and would retain their engagement in one family much longer than they do, if only they would calmly sit down, and count the serious cost both to themselves and to their pupils, (to which I have alluded,) in relinquishing it.' It would be difficult in all cases to determine what might be deemed a sufficient reason for relinquishing a situation. A few de- cidedly insullicient motives are accurately specified. ' / need scarcely suggest, that a trifling increase of salary would be an insufficient reason for quitting a tolerably comforta- MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. l61 ble situation. Circumstances, such as some urgent family call upon your assistance, might indeed render a change not only ex- cusable l)ut praiseworthy. But without an imperative call, it will be equally your interest and happiness to retain your station. 1 consider the governesS; who will abandon her young charge for the mere sake of a little paltry emolument, much in the same light as the minister, who will leave his larger flock for the same base mo- tive of " filthy lucre," without any clear providential call. This abandonment of present and certain usefulness for the sake of some- thing new and uncertain— whether dictated by the love of gain, or the love of novelty— is not only sinful but imprudent. You are now more or less comfortably settled. You know not how many discomforts may await you in a new situation. You leave those who probably are becoming attached to you, for those who at pres- ent neither know nor care anything about you. This is not the way to lay up friends against the time of sickness, distress, or age. The plain path of duty is always the path of prudence. Here only can you expect the " blessing of the Lord, which maketh rich ; and he addeth no sorroio to it."' When, however, any tempting offer occurs, the love of gain, so common to all, the love of novelty so in- herent in young minds, and the persuasions of older sordid friends, are too Ukely to prevail with a young person, who is not enabled to hold fast her integrity, by working with a single eye to the service of Christ. ^ Nor do It/link that any trijlitig inconveiiience shonld induce you to relinquish an engagement which holds out to you a fair -prospect of usefidness. Every situation has its trials and priva- tions ; and it is better, if possible, to put up with those which already fall to your share, than to run the risk of incurring others which may be worse. Besides, these petty hardships are always most se- verely felt at first. After a time they wear off, and at length cease to occasion any considerable uneasiness. When the temper of either parents or children is a trial to you ; when the parents, through pride, avarice, or inconsideration, fail in a proper attention to your comforts ; when the extreme retirement or excessive bustle of your situation makes it very unpleasant to you, &c. — in these and many other similar cases, I should advise you to make as light of the evil as you can. and to bear with it as long as it can possibly be borne with. ' Again — let not any sudden fit of despondency induce you to give up your situation. There are few teachers, who cannot rec- ollect a time, when everything seemed to go wrong with them — ' No children ever repaid the trouble bestowed on them so little ; no situation ever possessed so few advantages : no parents were evcF so exacting and dissatisfied. In any other family they should suc- ceed better ; here they can neither do justice to their pupils nor to themselves.' Such feelings, which may be expected to arise in ^ Proverbs i. 22. 11 162 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. times of difficulty and discouragement, mark something very wrong in your own heart, that casts a shade upon all the objects around you ; something that needs — not the indulgent experiment of change of situation — but a special course of self-examination, watchfulness, and prayer, to restore a healthful tone of energy, cheerfulness, and satisfaction to your mind. ' I need scaicely observe, that 710 offence, real or fancied, except the former be of a very clear and aggravated character, could jus- tify you in quitting a family, in which you may have probably received much kindness, aad may receive much more. A governess must expect to be told of her faults, and ought to be thankful for such information as may lead to their correction. Christians indeed too often perform the difficult office of reproof in a very harsh and grating manner ; forgetting that the reproof of " the righteous should be like excellent oil," not to "break," but to heal, the wounded spirit.^ Yet the harshness with which a censure may be given, forms no excuse for a defect of Christian meekness and love in receiving it. " Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry ;" but re- member that ''a soft answer turneth away wrath."- Indulge not that sensitive temper, which is always looking out for some ground of offi3nce, over which it can brood, till it bursts out into open dis- content ; which bristles up at every hght and unguarded expres- sion, and is always on the defensive, even when no intentional slight could have been conceived. You will never long retain a situation without a forbearing spirit in respect of many little tilings, which are grating to a proud aad self-conceited temper. Good sense and experience ivill indeed help to depress this baneful temper. For we can scarcely so far shut our eyes to the passing world around us, as to fail in discovering, that the good opinion we may have formed of ourselves is ill- warranted by the general estimation in which we are held ; and that we must expect our full share of in- convenience and neglect. But true Christian hu7ndity can alone conquer the evil, " by bringing into captivity every high thought to the obedience of Christ."^ The spirit and temper of which we have been speaking is ever ready to take lire at the least provocation, or even without provocation. It exacts not only due respect, but much more than, if it knew itself, it would find to be its due. It can bear with nothing; it can endure nothing. But do you follow after that " charity which suffereth long and is kind ; is not puffed up ; doth not behave itself unseemly ; seeketh not her own ; is not easily provoked ; beareth all things."'* ' To sum up what I have said in a few words — when you have taken up your abode in a family, and have fairly set down to the performance of your duties, remember that you are in the station to which God in his providence has called you ; and that nothing but a clear and exphcit call of duty or necessity can justify you in quitting it. 1 Psalm cxli. 5. ^ Ecclesiastes vii. 9. Prov. xv. 1. 3 2 Cor. X. 5. ^1 Cor. xiii. 4—7. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 163 ' The causes that might induce your employers to dissolve the engagement (in which case you can have no alternative) very ma- terially dej3end upon yourself. Under any ground^ just or iinjust ; of their dissatisfaction with yoUy endeavor in the spirit of prayer to sift every part of your conduct, and particularly the part censured, to the very bottom. Put yourself in their place. Make every al- lowance for the feelings of an anxious parent ; and consider what might fairly be expected from you, and how far you have answered those expectations. Under any error discovered, be not ashamed to confess your fault with all candor and humility, and (in higher strength than your own) to promise amendment. To retain your situation by this " voluntary humility" will be truly honorable in the eyes of Christians, who know that " he that humbleth himself shall be exalted."' But supposing that, after sincere self-examina- tion, you cannot acknowledge the justice of the censure, still, as a Christian, strive to conciliate. Do not get warm or angry in your own justification ; mildly profess your freedom from any intentional offence or omission ; and declare your readiness to redouble your efforts to give satisfaction. ' Should incompetency he alleged against you, I should advise you, rather than give up your engagement in despair or in offence, to endeavor by redoubled diligence and application, especially in the particular ground of complaint, to redeem and establish your character. Christian gentleness and humility to explain and con- ciliate, and a willingness to correct errors, and to supply omissions, will in many cases restore satisfaction and confidence in the minds of your employers. 'Should however — not any fault or caprice on either side— but some 2inavoidahle domestic necessity, dissolve the connection, in this case many mitigating circumstances will present themselves to your mind. In the first place — " It is the Lord ;" and not one of his appointments or disappointments is without some wise and gra- cious purpose. In the next place — all painful feeling of responsibility for any evil that inay result from the change is entirely removed. And thus supported by a sense of God's blessing, and a clear con- science, you may look cheerfully forward to your new destination, hoping to gain new friends without losing the old.' The writer has been induced to quote so largely from these letters, because he is not aware of any work that enters into the details of the principles, characteristics, and sympathies of the life of a gover- ness. Had Miss Graham been permitted to complete her design^ her accurate and observant mind would probably have produced a valuable manual for this interesting and important class of society .^ In the defect; however, of an entire system of instruction, the pre- ' Luke xviii. 14. 2 A small volume, lately published, — ' Letters to a young Governess, by S. F. Ridout,' contains ranch valuable suggestion in filling up Miss Graham's imperfect sketch. 164 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. ceding hints will be found to suggest much sensible instruction nearly connected with their comfort and usefulness. In the choice of a governess, solid principle is of far greater mo- ment than accomplishment. Let the intellectual adorning have its due weight and consideration. But after all — ^the formation of the character upon Christian habits of thinking and conduct — and the storing of the mind with useful knowledge — is the primary concern. Where rectitude of principle have been fully proved, instruction may supply many lesser defects— and redoubled diligence and application will, — as Miss Graham observes, — do much to establish the character, as well as to strengthen the tone of mind. We must, however, preserve an even balance in the adjustment of this impor- tant part of domestic economy. If the generality of instructors are too flimsily furnished for their great task, perhaps it may be also said, that the generality of their employers are too niggardly. Though Miss Graham rightly inculcates upon her young governess not to consider stipend a primary matter, yet it is a part of Christian obligation to elevate her in a high rank above the menials of the house, and to consider the claims of aged parents or poor relations, that often press upon her. Where there is no power to give the liberal remuneration that is deserved, special care must be taken to compensate by the coin of affection and esteem — to a sensitive and delicate mind more acceptable than any increased pecuniary con- sideration. Under all circumstances, let it be remembered, that the labor of instruction is an anxious — and with children of lively and untractable temperament — a very depressing task. Let not, there- fore, the slight or caprice of parents, or the contumely of servants, be added to their painful privations and sacrifices. It is too often found, that inconsiderate selfishness and formal pride on the part of the parents materially hinder the effective usefulness of the family instructors. It fosters in them a discontented spirit in the contrast with the tender sympathies of their own home. Their insulated station in the family throws them in irksome solitude upon their own resources ; contracts their social affections ; and paralyzes that aflfectionate interest in their charge, which is the soul and energy of a fruitful system of instruction. Whereas a considerate tender- ness would return to the parents an abundant recompense, in rais- ing up for their children valuable friends in the persons of their in- structors— attached to their interests beyond the prospects of sordid gain — wise, anxious, and sympathizing counsellors to the end of life. On the other hand, personal hindrances too often restrain the disposition of the employers to incorporate the instructor, as far as is consistent with her station, into the family circle ; and this, even when a well-furnished mind and general consistency of conduct would have made her society an important consideration. A want of knowledge or respect for the regulations of decorum — defect of manners — forgetfulness of the due reserve connected with her situa- tion— pedantic tone of conversation — vanity of dress — self impor- tance— a disputatious spirit — a love of authority — affectation, or MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 165 studied eccentricity of behavior — these or some other failure in the domestic graces — repel the exercise of kindly confidence, and pro- duce a natural, and in some degree a necessary, distance in the deportment of the parents. Let each side form their mutual behavior upon scriptural rules. Let the one practise the injunction of love — " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.'" liet the other " be clothed with humility," and be found in the daily observ- ance of '•' whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report."^ Thus Christian regard and happiness will be reciprocally diffused, without any compromise of their several obligations. » Matt. vii. 7. 13. 2 i Peter, v. 5. Phil. iv. 8. CHAPTER V. DIFFERENT VIEWS AND FEATURES IN MISS GRAHAMS CHARACTER. The retired and uniform habits of Miss Graham's Ufa scarcely allow of a detailed illustration of her natural character. That singular freedom from selfishness, remarked in her early history," appears to have been, by the common consent of all her intelligent friends, a most prominent feature throughout life. One of her young companions, whose subsequent opportunities of observation give weight to her testimony, thus confirms the general remark on this point : — ' The situation which 1 have filled for some years (in tuition) has of course brought under my notice the various dispo- sitions and peculiar tempers of children in general. From neces- sity partly, I have studied them. But I have never met with one, who in any degree answered my recollections of Mary Graham. Warm and susceptible in her feelings, she was tender to those of others ; nor did she ever puffer any regret or disappointment in her own mind to interfere with the comfort or pleasure of her com- panions.' The testimony of her young cousin is to the same purport. ' I never saw any one so devoid of selfishness, or who took so warm an interest in the happiness of her fellow-creatures. There was not one of my amusements or childish sorrows in which she would not take her share. As I grew up, her kindness in this re- spect increased.' This lovely trait was combined with a sweetness and gentleness of disposition, and, being moulded under the influ- ence of divine grace, attracted the regard even of the thoughtless and unobservant. Indeed her young friend first alluded to does not hesitate to assert — ' My earliest remembrance of her is con- nected with feelings of respect, which, I think I may say, I have scarcely felt in a stronger degree for any one I have since known.' We have already given her parents' account of her relative character under their own roof.*^ In its wider sphere of operation it may, however, be added, that her natural afllection was enlarged in no common degree to all that belonged to her, and manifested in the most important and practical mode of constant prayer and ef- fort for the salvation of their souls. She sometimes spent a great part of the night in earnest and persevering intercession ; and on one occasion was known, after she had retired to rest, to arise from her bed to employ herself in special prayer, in behalf of her only brother, who died in America about this time, and for whom she > Patre 11. « Ibid. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 167 never ceased to cherish the hope, that her prayers were heard with acceptance. The following letter fully enforces the claims of natural affection upon the basis of the high principles of the Gospel. In quickening her friend to a self-denying effort in this path of duty, she writes : — ' Stoke, Jan. 2, 1827. ' My dear , " freely we have received, freely let us give."' If it does take up half a day once or twice a month to go to , surely God, who gave all your days, has a right to expect you should spend them in whatever service he will put upon you ; and by making these individuals your near relations, he has given them a claim upon you. Jesus made himself as our brother, that sucked the breasts of our mother, on purpose to give us an everlasting claim to all that he can do for us ; and surely those whom he has given us as near relations, have for his sake a claim upon all that we can do for them. The more unpleasant the task, the more con- trary to flesh and blood, the more reason we have to hope that we are not following our own fancy, nor working to please ourselves, but really following the example of Jesus, who " came not to do his own will."2 At the same time, if after jirayer, you really do not feel called upon to do something for them, and that speedily and perseveringly ; and if you do not think you are guilty of great un- faithfulness and selfishness in neglecting it, I will not mention the subject again to you ; for I am persuaded you will be taught of God, and faith will be given you, if the Lord intends to make use of you to do them good. My great desire is, that we may be always faithful to one another, "provoking one another to good works." ' In another letter to the same correspondent, she throws out a valuable hint of encouragement relative to a difficulty, which is often painfully felt in this course of obligation. ' I often think, dear , that if we could feel and carry in our memory those encouraging words of our Saviour, " It is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father, which speaketh in you,"^ — we should no longer suffer false shame to hinder us from earnestly pressing the subject of the Gospel upon those who are dear to us. May not we, as well as the inspired apostles, hope for the indwelling guidance of that Spirit, who shall strengthen us in all utterance and in knowledge T One main feature of her intellectual character was the ardor, steadiness, and concentration of mind, with wliich she pursued every 1 Matt. X. 8. 2 John vi. 38. Compare Romans xv. 3— the example of the only beinw in the uni- verse, who had a right to please Himself, and yet who, in relinquishing this right, ex- hibits Himself as our Pattern no less than our Sacrifice. 3 Matthew x. 20. 168 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. object of interest. This indeed distinguished her earhest and most unbended iiabits. Her youthful games were marked with tliesame intensity of feehng, which she subsequently applied to her more important objects. She engaged in games of imagination, as one of her companions remarks, with all the earnestness of reality, and acted a fictitious character with an expression, that proved her to be totally absorbed in it. Thus it was with reading or with work. No elforts or entreaties could avail to divert her mind from the object which was then engaging her attention, to any other employ- ment or recreation. In the occupations of after-hfe, whether it was nmsic, the languages, mathematics, or chemistry, it was still the same warmth and fixedness of mind. The early dawn not unfre- quently found her (after she had girded on her Christian armor) deeply engaged in her studies. The spirit and result of her inves- tigations often entered into her common conversation, wherever she met with a kindred mind — not however in any display of pedantry, (than which nothing was more removed from her temper,) but in the natural flow of her spirits, and with a lively endeavor to com- municate a reciprocal interest. The simplicity and elastic spring of her mind was also remarkably illustrated in her peculiar faculty of drawing out the mental resources of those with whom she conversed ; so that, though they could not but be sensible of her great superi- ority, yet they appeared to themselves often to possess a greater strength of mind, and variety of conception, than they had before been conscious of Perhaps however the completeness of her intel- lectual character appeared in the well-regulated application of her mental powers. To subjects of taste — such as music and poetry — she brought a glow of feehng and of imagination, that quickens the pulse of her readers, and plays upon the passions with an irresistible charm. On the other hand, matters of a graver cast, such as the highly valuable discussions of her mathematical manuscript, are drawn out with the sober accuracy of a reflecting and discriminating judgment. The illustrations that have been given of her musical excitement might almost lead us to suppose that this was the atmosphere in which she lived, and that she could breathe in no other ; yet was this fervid enthusiasm disciplined by the apprehen- sion of the preponderance of this indulgent taste above more solid pursuits.^ Thus was her fine imagination furnished with a pro- portionate counterpoise in the master-principle of her ever active mind. As to her Christian character — this highest style of man — that energy of feeling and industry of habit which gave the impulse to her intellectual studies, no less strongly marked the temperament of her religion. Thougli she liad a clear perception that the bless- ing she sought was a free gift, yet she expected the attainment of it, like that of every important object of pursuit, only in the constant use of the appointed means. She was therefore led to cherish the ' See pp. 40, 135. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 169 principles of her Christian profession, in a spirit of earnest and prayerful searching of the Scriptures ; and thus was she enabled to exhibit the graces of the Gospel in lovely combination and practical exercise. In giving, however, a detailed sketch of Miss Graham's spiritual character, we would premise, that it was marked by that variation of feeling, which is so often alluded to in her correspondence,' and which, though common to all cases of Christian experience, her remarkable elevation of spirituality rendered more visible than in most other cases. The ditference of her feelings was often discerni- ble in her countenance. On some seasons it was irradiated with a peculiar expression of heavenly feature. She was manifestly filled with the love of God, and " out of the abundance of her heart her mouth would speak." At other times it was with dithcully that she could be induced to converse upon religious subjects ; and she would turn from tliem to enter upon topics exclusively intellectual. But this view of her character cannot better be described than in the language of her most intimate and confidential friend. ' I did not notice any infirmity in her Christian character, except the one she herself often mentions — inequality. The difiference in spiritual feeling was more visible in her than in any other Christian I have known. When in a state of warm feeling, she was more entirely engrossed by the subject than any one I ever met with. Nothing else could interest her. When her mind was less under' the influence of heavenly things, the difference was obvious. I do not mean by her giving way to any sinful temper or feeling, but by her conversing with pleasure and interest upon merely earthly things. Nor do I think that at these times she sunk much, if at all, below the usual standard. Ordinarily she rose, I should think, above it.' . The general tone, however, of her habit, both contemplative and active, manifested the habitual operation of a high measure of Divine influence ; while her occasional depressions seem not to have sunk her below the ordinary level, and were doubtless connected with those exercises of humiliation described in her correspondence, which will find their response in the hearts of many of her readers. We now proceed to the chief object of this work, a detailed devel- opment of the most prominent feature of Miss Graham's Christian character. In a compassionate concern for the unconverted., she had deeply imbibed the spirit of her beloved Master. ' I see,' as she writes to a friend, ' more need than ever to pray, not only for the souls of others, but for a spirit of love to souls, and for a sense of their inestimable value.' She had diligently improved the opportunities of her health, in pleading with the careless and unbelieving, and in every exercise of tender anxiety on their behalf. In the chamber of pain and sickness, their awful condition intensely occupied her mind ; and the > See her letter, p. 109. 170 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. long and "wearisome nights appointed" her, were oftea engaged in intercession for their souls. - When first I visited her — observed the dear brother, who was the privileged attendant upon her sick bed — • hearing of a poor woman in a dangerous state, and unconcerned about her eternal interests, she eagerly inquired of me respecting her soul, and begged me most earnestly to pray for her. She spoke with a peculiar in- terest, as if she felt what 'it was for a soul to be lost.' Indeed her minister expresses himself to have been continually struck with her deep tone of anxiety on the state of the parish. If she heard of any that were awakened from a fearful state of stupidity and death, it was always with the most lively expressions of delight. Often was she known to shed tears of joy upon any symptom of hope and encouragement respecting them that were brought before her. She felt the responsibihty of every opportunity of addressing her fellow- sinners, whether rich or poor, upon the immensely momentous con- cerns of eternity ; and when unable to seek after them, she longed to brinfir them into her sick room, within the reach of her solemn and affectionate exhortations ; though a restless night was the ex- pected result of this ardent excitement. It was her great desire to brincr her whole family, all her friends and neighbors, to Christ and to heaven v-ith her. ' Though suffering under excruciating pain, and her -soul breaking out with longing desires" for a sight of Christ in his glory : yet, when speaking of the perishing state of sinners, she would say — 'Oh! I would gladly live a hundred years, if I might be the means of saving one soul' Shortly before her death, when in a state of great exhaustion, she begged her minister to pray for an infidel, who had an opportunity of seeing her -Test of Truth,' as it passed through the press — ' Weak as the work is' — she said in her deep humility — • it may prove a blessing to his soul.' A few extracts from her con-espondence will atibrd striking illus- tration of the deep feeling of her Christian responsibility and love. The first letter relates to an unhappy female, who had been brought under her notice. Being unable personally to attend to her case, she thus warmly enforces it upon her friend, who was, jointly with herself, interested in it. ' Dec. IS, 1S27. ' My chief reason for writing to-day is, tliat this poor wretched girl dwells upon my mind. You make good reflections, but these very reflections ought to lead us to do something for her. She must be very young; and if we do not make an effort to save her from destruction, I think that we shall indeed have much to an- swer for. Her not belonging to us, ought to be no excuse for our not concerning ourselves about her. For does she not belong to the large family of lost sinners, to which we once belonged ? And mav we^not be the means of removing her thence into the family of saved sinners, of which God's mercy has made us members J I cannot rest till something is tried. So young, and so brought up. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. , 171 what better could be expected from her ? What should we have been under her disadvantages ? I tremble even to think of it ; and for very thankfulness we ought to leave nothing untried to save her. She has been also brought under our notice by a peculiar provi- dence, which is, I think, a call to the work.' To this wretched object of distress, she addressed a letter full of tender and awakening exhortations. To her great concern, how- ever, this messenger of mercy never reached the hands of her for whom it was intended, and who was soon afterwards transported. Shortly afterwards she again stimulates her friend to this work of love, with the solemn impulse connected with the concerns of a never-dying soul. ' Jan. 11, 1828. ' I beseech you to reflect, that on one hand this girl may be a subject of regret to you upon your bed of death. On the other hand, she may be to you a "crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus." ' The fervor that pervades the following letter is deeply affecting. • March 18, 1828. ' But why should I say I have nothing to write about ? I am really ashamed of the folly of the last sentence, and of the frivo- lous temper which dictated it. Yes, my dear friend, if we love the Lord Jesus, we have always a subject of the deepest interest — enough to employ our tongue and our pen, both morning, noon, and night. I would fain make him the subject of our communication here, as I trust he will be the theme of our songs and praises in heaven; and firmly believing, as I do, that there is neither praise nor lasting joy for those who place their happiness in anything short of loving him ; can I do otherwise than tell you how very earnestly I wish that you may be led by his grace to make him your all in all? May his Holy Spirit lead us, my dear M ; for. in short, all are sinners, by nature as well as by practice, altogether alienated from God, to whom we can only be " made nigh by the blood of Jesus."' Do not let us deceive ourselves in so important a subject. If we are walking in the same way with the world around us, we are not walking in the narrow way which leads to life ; nor can we be the followers of that Saviour, "who gave himself for us, that He might deliver us from this evil world."^ There is a peace which the world knoweth not of, and a joy, in which all its boasted pleasures are but vanity. This is the peace and joy which I would entreat you to seek after. But you will say to me, ' Why do you recommend it? and why are you so uncharitable as to suppose I do not possess it already ? It is because I know what a great and en- tire change it requires in the whole heart and character. I am sen- sible that such is the utter sinfulness of my own heart, that nothing » Eph. u. 13. 2 Gal. i. 4. 172 . MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. but a divine influence could have led me to see anything in Christ crucified that was worth giving up all the world for. And may not the same Divine power snatch you as a brand from the burning, and lead you to the cross of Jesus for pardon and salvation? This is the hope that induces me to venture upon writing to you so freely ; and the very aftectionate interest I feel in everything relat- ing to you must plead my excuse, if, when I speak of a thing on which your eternity depends, I speak in the strong language which my anxiety suggests to me.' Some misconception of her correspondent gave rise to the next letter. ' Your letter occasioned me much pain, and, 1 will add, per- plexity. I could not conceive from what part of mine you had dis- covered that I thought holiness unnecessary to a Christian. My dear friend, I know (for God has said) that "without holiness no man shall see the Lord :"' but I know (for God has said it too), that we cannot be holy of ourselves : " we are not sufficient of our- selves to think anything as of ourselves ;" and, " vt'ithout me," saith Christ, " ye can do nothing."^ As this is not a matter of little im- portance, but one of hfe and death, let n>e most earnestly and af- fectionately entreat you to make it the subject of unceasing prayer. " If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally." " Ask, and ye shall have."* The Scripture abounds with promises to those who make it the business of their lives to seek God. Allow me to mention one more, which always fills my mind with comfort and peace : — " Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your, hearth* I have mentioned this way of prayer to you, be- cause I believe we might write about these things forever, without coming nearer to the truth. Prayer is the way of God's appoint- ment ; and I never knew anyone who really prayed earnestly and per sever ingly for Divine teaching, that was not brought at length heartily to subscribe to what are called evangelical doctrines. The Scriptures take away all hope of our understanding these things of ourselves, when they tell us that the " natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him.''^ Foolish indeed does the doctrine of the cross appear to the heart un- taught by the Spirit of God ; but let the heart be once taught to receive it, and it beholds in it " the power and wisdom of God ;" and a person thus taught wnll feel constrained to make it his great desire, endeavor, and prayer that others may learn it too. There- fore if I could write volumes to you, the little word " pray" should be the burden of them all. By prayer I do not mean the cold thing which worldly people call prayer ; 1 mean such an effort as a man 1 Hebrews xii. 14. « 2 Cor. iii. 5. John xv. 5. ^ James i. 5 Matt. vii. 7- « Jer. xxix. 12, 13. s i Cor. ii. 14. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 173 dying with hunger would use to beg for food ; I mean begging as for one's life, being able to say, as David did, '• There is nothing in heaven or in earth that I desire beside thee."' Dear , I feel that 1 have spoken to you with great freedom and plainness : I can- not help it. If I saw a friend on the brink of a precipice, I would try to pull her away from it. I know that all who trust in any- thing but Christ for pardon and salvation are on the brink of eter- nal destruction ; and can I rest when any whom I love are in this state? I know, too, that unless God is pleased to bless what I have said, you will only think me a fool for my pains ; but this is of lil- tle consequence. Before another letter can pass between us, one or both of us may have entered into eternity, when every man's foundation that he trusted in will be tried : and it will be seen how miserably mistaken are those who build upon the sand, upon their own imperfect righteousness : while those alone who built upon the Rock of Ages will be safe. May you be one of those ! may you flee for refuge to Christ Jesus ! trust him for everything, follow him in everything; take him alone for your guide and teacher, and cease to " lean unto your own understanding." ' The next letter contains a faithful and affectionate appeal made to a beloved relative under affliction. It cannot fail of interesting the reader, as a specimen of that natural affection, which we have before noticed^ under the constraining influence of the principles of the Gospel. « Nov. 26, 1829. *How very sorry your letter has made us ! I can conceive noth- ing more heart-breaking, than the situation you are now all in. I entreat you most earnestly, my dearest , to seek comfort in earnest prayer, for your dear afflicted , and to try, by every means in your power, to lead him to the same source of comfort. I know he cannot now bear to have much said to him ; but a verse occasionaly read to him, or a short and affectionate prayer offered up with him, might be blessed by our merciful God to his eternal good. I will endeavor to join my prayers with yours; if it should please God to lead him to the source of all peace, you may one day look back with joy upon this affliction. May it lead you all to flee more earnestly for refuge to the hope that is set before you ! Tell my dear , with my most affectionate love, that I beseech him to think of, and to pray over these words — " Come unto me, all ye that are loeary arid heavy laden, and I will give you restP^ Surely he may look upon this invitation as peculiarly addressed to himself If ever there was one weary and heavy laden in mind and body, it is . O let me implore him to accept the offer which infinite mercy holds out to him : let him cast his weary soul upon the love of Jesus ; let him take all his sins and sorrows, and spread them at the feet of one who is xoilling to forgive, mighty to save, a ' Psalm Ixxiii. 25. 2 Page 146. ^ Matthew xi. 28. 174 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. present help in every time of trouble, to every one ivithout excep- tion^ who is willing to be forgiven, helped, saved, and abundantly comforted with the comfort which springs from his love, and which is, like himself, infinite and eternal. O my dear , with whom I have enjoyed so many happy hours, which will never fade from my memory ; from whom I have received such repeated acts of kindness ; and whom I love more as a parent than any other relation, suffer me to speak very earnestly to you ; and take my words, I entreat you, as kindly and affec- tionately as they are meant. I cannot but long and pray, tliat you may " be comforted with the consolation, wherewith I myself have been comforted of God." I have tried it, dearest : and I have tried the comfort which the world has to give ; and I have found the one deep, and satisfactory, and lasting, and the other vain, and empty, and transitory. You are, as I am, a sinner, a miserable sinner ; and unless you flee to Jesus for refuge, you cannot escape the wrath of God, which is revealed against all sin. You have lived in the neglect of these things, and have cared too little what would become of your soul. But is this any reason for despair, or even for discouragement ? Oh ! no. Christ still invites — nay, even beseeches — you to come to him ; and tells you in his word, that he is perfectly willing, and perfectly " able to save all that come unto God by him," The greatness of our sins need not pre- vent us ; for his " blood cleanseth from all sin :" he died for sin- ners, even the chief of sinners. Our ignorance need not dis- hearten us ; for he " teacheth sinners in the w\ay," O come unto this '■'"meek and IoidIij,^^ this strong and mighty, Saviour ! He is too meek and gentle to reject, and too strong and faithful to disap- point any that come. Dear , my heart is full. What can I say to induce you to seek peace and happiness in the pardon of your sins through Jesus Christ ? It is but asking you to be full of happiness and joy ; for thus I know it will be with you, if you take the God of all comfort for your God, And do but think, how wonderful and unspeakable his condescension, in offering to be our God, and friend, and father ; " forever and ever, our guide even until death ;"' our "everlasting portion and reward," Only think, how dreadful that he should be willing to save us, and we un- willing to give ourselves up to be saved and blessed by him ! Can this be your case ? It must not — it must not be so with you. You cannot reject the invitations of the Gospel, and say to God, who beseeches you to be reconciled to him — 'No — I will not be recon- ciled : I will not pray to the God of my salvation :' I am sure the thought strikes you with horror. You cannot rightly seek God without the aid of the Holy Spirit : but you will receive this aid upon asking; for "God will give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him.^''^ May he both teach you to pray, and hear and answer your prayer ! May he relieve your suffering body, if it be his will, 1 Psalm xlviii. 14. « Luke xi. 13. MEMOIR OP MARY JANE GRAHAM. 175 and comfort your distressed soul ! Amen and Amen. — If my dear can bear thus much read to hun, you will show it, or read it to him ; and let us both pray, that he may know and feel the joy of being united to Christ.' To another friend she wrote from her sick bed, nearly in the same strain. ' I lie here sometimes, and think what a poor useless creature I am. But if I might be made the happy means of inducing my dear and kind friend to cast himself, and all his sorrows, and sins, and uneasiness, at the feet of the Saviour of sinners, then I should think I had indeed lived to some purpose. I have often wanted to write to you : but the fear that you would think me unkind or assuming in intruding my thoughts upon you, has prevented me But what a foolish and wicked fear this was, when the salvation of your precious soul was in question ! Yes, my dear , I will frankly own to you, that the sickness of your bod}^, distressing as i* is to me, afflicts me not half so much as the sickness of your soul I greatly fear that you have not yet found peace in the pardon ol your sins through Jesus Christ. I write to you as a sinner saved by God's grace, to a shmer, whom the grace of God, and that alone, can save. I would not be so cruelly heartless as to Hatter you, and to say, " Peace, peace, while there is no peace." ^ But I do know that there is pardon and peace too, for every one, who feeling his sins to be many and grievous, flies to Jesus Christ for refuge ; and it is thus that I conjure you to fly to him. ' O my dear , how long has this gracious Saviour been knocking at the door of your heart ! By his Scriptures, which you have read ; by the sermons and religious books that have come into your hands, by the secret strivings of his Spirit with your heart and conscience ; by the afflictions wherewith He has afflicted, and still afflicts you ; by all these tilings he knocks, he sues for admis- sion. He will not let you rest till you open the door : and why ? because he loves you : he would make you happy in this world, and happy forever. He would be to you a friend, on whom you might safely lean : on whose constant love you might safely confide ; one who would never leave nor forsake you ; never be weary of nor slight you ; never for one moment be unable or unwilling to listen to you, bless you, and relieve you. 'Such a friend is Jesus Christ to all those who fly to him for salvation. May he be your friend and Saviour forever ! this is the sincere prayer of, M. J. G.' The tenderness and consideration tvith which she enforced these supremcly-iniportant subjects nj)on her young friends, is noticed by those who were experimentally acquainted with it. Her gentle- ness and self-command were often put to the test by the coldness, 1 Jeremiah vi. 14. 176 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. petulance, or dislike with which her exhortations were received. But there was no reproach or upbraiding on her part — no anger or contempt on account of the foolish things that were said ; nor did she ever show the less interest in promoting amusements more after the heart of her companions. She was known sometimes to weep in tenderness, when a fault was confessed to her — but never at that time to reprove. Sometimes her humility and affectionate delicacy would rebuke the carelessness of her friend, by the acknowl- edgment of her own coldness and neglect. Thus she would lead her more thoughtless companion to unite with herself in supplication for pardon and grace. So truly was she " a fellow-worker with her God," in " drawing with the bands of love !"^ Connected with this was her tender and Christian faithfulness in giving reproof, where she considered it to be needed. To a beloved friend, complaining to her of a trial in the unjust suspicion of a relative, she exclaimed, ' Oh, my dear friend, it is all self ; examine yourself; see if that idol self is not at the bottom of all this feeling of yours.' The result of self-inspection confirmed this judg- ment. The following is an instructive specimen of the mode and spirit, in which this high obligation of friendship will be most effec- tually discharged. After giving a shght sketch of some of the lead- ing doctrines of the Gospel, she brings them home in a direct and close application to the conscience of her friend. 'And now, beloved , let me tarn from every other considera- tion to yourself, and the state of your own mind. For you have rightly judged that I cannot think that the state of your , or any otlier person, ought to have the least influence in preventing you from seeking the salvation of your own soul. The question is not, what do others do to be saved 7 But " what mnst T do to be saved ?" You tell me that I am severe. Indeed I would not willingly be so. A miserable sinner myself, saved only by the free mercy of God, what right have I to be severe upon others ? But I am "affectionately desirous of you" in the Lord Jesus, and therefore, as my beloved friend, I warn you. I fail in my duty to you, unless I tell you the truth. It may seem harsh to appear to have any doubt of your state ; but it is kinder to lead you to examine now, than to leave you to the bare possibility of finding yourself deceived when it is too late. If then what I am now going to say should seem to you more severe than ever, I entreat you, dearest , to forgive me for the sake of the motive which impels me to do so. Consider that I am not now speaking of any trifling thing. The more I love you, the more impossible I find it to stand upon cer- emony, while I am trembling for your soul. My fears then about your state are not excited by what I have heard. Had you become a very decided and devoted Christian, I think I should have heard of it from many quarters. In some it would have been noticed with delio-ht ; in others, with wonder : in others, with disUke and disap- 1 Hosea zi. 4. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 177 probation. But my fears are drawn cliiefly from the querulous and worldly strain, in which most of your letters to me are written. I know that " if you have not the Spirit of Christ, you are none of his.'" This Spirit must be known by its fruits. " And the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, long-svffering, gentleness, good- ness, faith, meekness, temperanceP'^ Now I look earnestly, anx- ionsli/, for some of these fruits. I look for some sign that " the love of God is shed al)road in your heart by the Holy Ghost which is given to you." This love would show itself in love to others ; in love even to your enemies, if you had any. But I fear you are indulging in feelings little short of hatred to more than one of your fellow-creatures. I fear that wrath, strife, disputations, envyings, jealousies, are too often more predominant in your heart than love. Again I look for some evidence of that "joy and peace in believing," that " peace and joy in the Holy Ghost," which form so great a part of the " kingdom of God" within us.^ Even mourning Christians must sometimes feel a little of this in their hearts. But sure I am, that if " the peace of God which passeth all understanding, did keep your heart and mind in Christ Jesus," you could not be so much fretted and discomposed by the petty discontents, and trials, and offences of a world, whose frowns and whose smiles you would feel to be equally beneath your regard. You would remember that your lot has been chosen for you by a wise and loving Father, and that the most vexatious events in it happen by his permission, and for your good. Whenever we feel inclined to murmur, dear , at "our light afflictions," let us think of those faithful servants of God, who " had trial of cruel mockings, and scourgings, yea, moreover, of bonds and imprisonments ; who were stoned, were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword, who wandered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented."^ Yet these " destitute, afflicted, tormented" ones, " in patience posses- sed their souls." " The peace of God kept their hearts and minds ;" and shall it not keep ours, in our comparatively no-sufferings 1 Now if these " fruits of the Spirit, love, joy, peace," flourish in the heart, they must show themselves to be there : and if the contrary dispositions — -anger, dissatisfaction, restlessness, appear in their stead, it proves either that " we have not the Spirit of Christ, and there- fore are none of his;" or else that we have "grieved that Holy Spirit," and caused him for a time to withdraw his sacred influences. In either case we ought not to rest till we have sought and obtained that " godly sorrow" for sin, " which worketh repentance unto salva- tion not to be repented of."^ Where we may apply for this repent- ance, we are told in Acts v. 31. I will go on no longer in enumerat- ing these fruits of the Spirit ; for my business is not to judge you, but to lead you to judge and examine yourself. This I earnestly entreat you to do, " that you may not be judged of the Lord."« I Rom. viii. 9. 2 Gal. v. 22, 23. 3 Romans xv. 13 ; xvi. 17, < Heb. xi. 3G, 37. = 2 Cor. vii. 10, 11. • « 1 Cor. xi. 31. 12 178 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. And should you now, dearest , feel offended with me, it will give me the less uneasiness — both because I know you will not in the end love me the less for having faithfully discharged my con- science towards you before I die ; and because I know that you will view it in a very different light at our next meeting, which will, I hope and trust, be around the throne of God and the Lamb.' Her love to her Saviour must have been already prominently remarked by every intelligent reader. She lived much in distinct, deep, and fixed contemplation of him. Those parts of Scripture were especially valuable, that brought her into closer contact with the subject nearest her heart — the love of Christ. The book of Canticles was therefore to her " a garden of delights." Her pure and spiritual mind enabled her to study this holy book with the liveliest and most profitable interest. Many Christians, in an over- scrupulous delicacy and unscriptural taste, seem almost to have proscribed this portion of the sacred canon from their private medi- tation. The book indeed is an exposition of the heavenly privi- lege of communion with our divine Saviour. It can only therefore be understood by those who can say — •' Truly our fellowship is wilh the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.'" The perusal of it moreover must be admitted to require a peculiar abstraction from earthly things. But the Christian's heart under Divine teaching will be a spiritual interpreter of it ; and whenever it is approached with reverence, simplicity and sanctity, it will tend much to the enkindUng of holy affections in the endearing contemplation of con- descending love^ — in a self-abasing sense of backslidings^ — in a heavenly enjoyment of the presence of the Lord'* — in commending his person to all around us' — in a panting desire for a closer com- munion with him^ — and in a joyous anticipation of his coming.'' But Miss Graham's love to her Saviour was not confined to spiritual contemplation. It was a principle of incessant activity, directing her daily habit (to use her own beautiful language to one of her correspondents) to ' watch with the eye of love every intima- tion of his will, every leading of his Spirit.' Such is the difference between speculating upon religion, and feehng it — when the heart has " tasted that the Lord is gracious" — when the man is made " a new creature" — when his eyes have been opened to behold the beauty of his Saviour — and he is anxiously cultivating every temper of the Gospel, in which he may live above the world, and walk with Christ. Miss Graham's happy anticipations of eternity were connected with this love to her Saviour. That which gave, in her eyes, em- phasis and perfection to eternal bliss was — that it is all Christ — that the " Lamb is the light"^ of the heavenly city. Thus we find her writing a new year's congratulation to a dear friend in the heart- stirring remembrance — that •' now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.'" > 1 John i. 3. • Cant. i. 1 — 1. 3 ibid. v. 2— G. *Cant. ii. 3— 13. s ibid. v. ix. 16. fi Ibid. viii. 6. ' Cant, verse 14. * Rev. xxi. 23. , » Rom. xiii. 11. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 179 ' Stoke, Jan. 1, 1827. * This time last year we were together. Does it seem as if a year had passed since then ? Another year of sin on our part, and of mercy, free and uninterrupted, on the part of 02ir Jesus ! There is something very sweet in the thought that we are a year nearer to his bosom ; that every year will pass as swiftly as the last, till he calls us to himself; and that nothing can happen next year, or any following year, which can possibly separate us one single moment from his love. Perhaps this time next year we may be like him, " seeing him as he is," joining in a song new indeed to our tongues, becausfft it will be a triumphant song, and a holy and an everlasting song.' Her love of jyrayer formed one of the main features of her diaracter. Every habit of her mind appeared to flow in the spirit and atmosphere of prayer. The ylayfiil exercises of her youth were indulged in this sanctified temj)era,ment. When her cousin visited her, the day was usually commenced with a chapter from her favorite Bible, accompanied with prayer, that they might both love and serve Ilim, of whom that book testified. This service jjerformed, she instantly turned all the warmth and animation of her affectionate temper, and all the powers of her highly-gifted mind, to the amusement of her companion. AVe have already no- ticed the conyiectio7i of this habit with her intellectual employ- ments, whether indulging her own gratifications, or superintending the instruction of her cousin.' Hers was not the unsanctified study, which is glitter, not gold. All was consecrated to the supreme ob- ject of life, and directed to this object By the constant influence of that principle, which ennobles earthly occupations, and stamps them with a heavenly glory. The occasional visits of her young friends found her in the same spiritual habit. ' Seldom,' as one of her school-feliows has recorded, ' did 1 enter her little room, but she proposed the reading of the Bible, and would pour out her soul be- fore her God with holy fervor and simplicity.' Her jniblic exercises of Christia7i devotedness were conducted in the same spirit. When engaged in the work of Sunday School tuition, she had her set limes of prayer with her young cousin, who was at that time asso- ciated with her (for themselves, their fellow-laborers, and their re- sponsible charge) ; and frequently she would offer distinct and sep- arate supplication for each child in their classes. Her respo?isi~ bility as a niejnber of the ransomed family of God, led her (as we find from a letter shortly to be adduced)'^ in the true spirit of sympathy to devote an hour every evening mainly to the subject of intercessory prayer. Besides these constant occasions, she set apart special time for secret dedication and co??iniunion with God. New-year's day and birth-days were among these privileged seasons. It was one of her favorite plans to set apart occasionally a certain time exclusively for prayer and scripture reading ; and for I See page 37. 2 See page 183. 180 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. this purpose all her other employments were removed from her sight. Tins was lier preparation for any special engagement that was prospectively before her ; and this course she recommended to her friends with beneficial effect.' Another custom of somewhat similar character (and one that is happily making advance through- out the church in our day) was to prevail upon her confidential friends to set apart definite hours, when distant friends could meet together in one heart and one soul at the throne of their common Lord. Thus in the most extensive meaning of the scriptural pre- cept, she might be said to "pray without ceasing;" and, like the man after God's heart, "to give herself unto prayer." Love to the ivhole word of God was also a prominent feature in her character. Indications of this holy pleasurable taste were visible in her childhood, in the large portions which she committed to memory.2 In an early excursion with one of her young friends, we find her reproaching herself for the small proportion . of time, which she had consecrated to the study of this precious volume. Whatever might be the ground for this self-accusation, it was how- ever intended as a hint to her less thoughtful companion, and to in- troduce before her a plan that might be useful to them both — that of repeating portions of Scripture to each other when they met. Thus she made her own self-condemnation the vehicle of instruc- tion to her friend. Generally speaking, she read the Sacred Book as a pleasure, not as a task. It seemed to be her constant food and study. She did, indeed, " esteem the words of God's mouth more than her necessary food.'"=^ They " were found, and she did eat them ; and they were to her as the joy and rejoicing of her heart."* They were to her what Melancthon calls ' that sacred manna of the soul, to which St. Paul alludes, when he speaks of spiiitually dis- cerning' the sacred pages. Often under protracted bodily and spir- itual trials, the promises were to her " as cold waters to a thirsty soul ;" yea, as " life from the dead." So eager was her appetite for this heavenly manna, that, not satisfied with her own gathering, she was always longing to feed upon the fruits of the industry of her friends. Thus in one of her letters we find her entreating her confidential correspondent to communicate to her any additional and interesting hght, which had been found in the course of her scriptural research. Even in those seasons of special consecration just alluded to, when she found her mind indisposed for spiritual reading, she would still cleave exclusively to the Scriptures, and give up her time and mind to learning large portions of this holy book. It was her practice to read through different books of scrip- ture with a close and persevering habit of meditation and prayer, always keeping in mind her Masters stimulating motive to the I See a reference to this plan in her letter, p. 47. In another letter she again alluJes to it ' I have made a proposal to . I wish her to read a chapter in the Testament every day, beginning with the Gospel of St. Matthew. I will every day read the same chapter, and (God helping me) give some time to pray, that every verse may be explained and blessed to her. I hope much from this method. I See p. 12. 2 Jobxxiii. 13. 3 Jer. xv. 16. MEMOIR OP MARY JANE GRAHAM. 181 search — " For they are they which testify of me.'" Hence she was dehghted in the course of her study of the Book of Proverbs, to have Christ so mucli and so frequently brought before her mind ;- a rec- ollection of great moment for the spiritual discernment of the divine wisdom treasured up iu tliis storehouse of practical instruction. The encouraging promise held out to diligent investigators of the sacred volume^ on one occasion fixed her in intense meditation for up- wards of two hours. She appeared to be lost in astonishment and gratitude at the condescension and kindness of God, in giving a promise so rich, so free, so encouraging. She grasped it, as if de- termined not to let it go. She frequently employed herself in the profitable exercise of " comparing spiritual things with spiritual ;"^ — Scripture with itself; thus making God his own interpreter. Much light and heavenly unction she conceived herself to have ob- tained by this means, which were manifested to others, uncon- sciously to herself, in her striking remarks, and apt illustrations of passages presented to her. The wholeness of her study already noticed^ is worthy of careful consideration. There was no exclu- sive regard or undue prominence given to portions of the sacred book. " All" was regarded as " given by inspiration of God." and therefore profitable for the specific purposes for which it was written, and which it is the exercise of prayer and diligence to investigate. But we will state her admirable views of the temper requisite for the study of the Sacred Book in her own words. ' We shall never' — she remarks — ' become perfectly reconciled to all parts of the word of God, until He himself bestows on us the spirit and temper of a little child, to receive, without murmuring or disputings or carnal reasonings, whatsoever Jehovah the Spirit is pleased to say to us. That Spirit alone can take away the evil heart of unbelief, which prevents us from embracing the whole counsel of God as revealed in his word. It is he that must open our hearts to attend to all the things written in his law. Then we shall perceive a connection and a harmony between every part and every doctrine of the Scriptures, which will fill us with ever- increasing wonder and delight.'^ Her child-hke simplicity was the spirit of the most profound rev- erence. It is most edifying to remark her humble adoring search into " the d^p things of God," as contrasted with the unhallowed boldness witli which these unfathomable depths are too often ex- plored. After noticing objections to her views of the doctrine of election, she checks herself — ' But I stop ; " he that reproveth God, let him answer it.'"' AU these mysteries can be accounted for only by referring them to the inscrutable mystery of God's predestination. To the eye of carnal reason they lie involved in the thickest obscurity ; but the eye of faith sees in them no darkness at all. For faith, instead of vainly 1 John V. 39. 2 See Chap. i. viii. ix. &c. 3 Prov. ii. 1—6. i 1 Cor. ii. 13. » See her letter, p. 97. « Freeness of Grace, p. 55. 7 Job. xi. 2. i82 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. Striving to pull these things down to the level of reason, soars far above reason ; resolves every difficulty into the gt^acioiis will or wise permission of God, and seeks to know 71q further. How many things are there which I know not, nor " can by" any " searching find out to perfection !" But Jesus knows them all. With this assurance I sit down, fully satisfied He will teach them to me hereafter, as I am able to bear it. In the meantime " I will trust, and not be afraid." All that my God says to me I will im- phcitly believe, for I know that " every word of God is pure." " All the words of his mouth are in righteousness ; there is nothing froward or perverse in them : they are all plain to him (hat under- standeth, and right to them that find knowledge.'"' When I come to see God as he is, and to " know even as also I am known," I shall find that all these mysteries of his word and will were only ' dark with excessive light.' In the meantime, till I have the eagle eye that can gaze undazzled at his glories, I will view them at humble distance through the glass of faith, which he has given me for this purpose ; nor will I dare to repine, because I can only see them in a glass darkly.'^ Thus faith removes every objection, stills every murmur, and silences every doubtful thought.' This " trembling at God's word," is the spirit which our Lord " delighteth to honor"^ with special manifestations of his favor. " The secret of the Lord is with them tliat fear him ; and he will show them his covenant."^ This temper will stimulate to an earnest and diligent search ; while it will repress a presumptuous intrusion. It will lead to the reception of every truth upon this formal reason — that it is the word of God. Every truth, though it should not be considered of equal importance, must be regarded with equal reverence ; never forgetting that God is the Author of every particle of revelation. Therefore to reject any one 'jot or tittle of it' — as Dr. Owen has excellently observed, ' is a sufficient demonstration, that no one jot or tittle of" it is received as it ought. Upon whatever this title and inscription is — ' The Word of Je- hovah"— there must we stoop, and bow down our souls before it, and captivate our understandings to the obedience of faith. '= Her love for the ordinances of God is worthy of special remark. And this inded is the pulse of the soul — not attendance on them, but delight in them — fellowship with the panting desires of the holy Psalmist, when he envied even the birds who mhabited the pinnacles of the temple, and the priests who were always employed in its service ; and for himself counted " a day spent in God's courts better than a. thousand" spent elsewhere.^ The house of God had been to her in the time of healtii " the gate of heaven.'"^ In her time of affliction, ministers and ordinances were to her " wells of salvation," from vi^hence she "drew water with joy."'^ " Beautiful" in her eyes '• were the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that ' Prov. XXX. 5; viii. 8, 9. * i Cor. xiii. IC. 3 Isaiah Ixvi. 2. * Psalm XXV. 14. s Owen on Perseverance, chap. x. ^ p^alm Ixxxiv. ' Gen. xxviii. 17. ^ Isaiah xii. 3. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 183 publisheth peace."' She loved the messengers of the Gospel "for their work's sake,"^ and for their Master's sake.^ She always ex- pressed the deepest anxiety to receive through them " a message from God" to her soul. ' Pray before^ as well as after, your visit,^ was her solemn entreaty to her beloved minister. We must not forget to mention her " love to the brethreti'^ — that conscious and unequivocal mark of a transition " from death unto Hfe."^ She longed to see, converse, and enjoy fellowship with all who bore the image of her Lord ; and whether absent or present, shs seemed to hold communion with them. Speaking of an ab- sent friend, wlio appeared to enjoy a deep sense of ' the love of God upon her heart.' she said, ' I long to see her, that she may impart to me some spiritual gift.' On this subject she appears to have been drawn out with remarkable warmth and liveliness of Chris- tian feeling in her correspondence with her friends. To one of them she wrote thus — ' It is a great honor for us, who have been made partakers of the tempter's work, to be made partakers of the Saviour's — for us, who have been made a curse, to be made a blessing. But when I write to you in this way, it is not so much because I feel it, as because I want to feel it, and desire to be made the instrument of " stirring up this gift of God in you." ' What reader but must long to imbibe the blessed spirit of the two following letters ? ' April 9, 1827. 'I entreat you to think more of the privilege of intercession, and to make more use of it than ever. I find an indescribable delight in using these words, "Our Father," and in praising, confessing, and praying for myself as one of this large family — in praying for my- self as one of them, and in feeling their joys and sorrows as my own. And indeed if we wish above all things that the name of Jesus be glorified, is it not glorified in the spirituality of others as much as in our own ? And if we wish to be one with Jesus, should we not be also one with his elect? Tell me your difficulties and necessities, that I may present them to Jesus with my own. I do not say this, because I think that I have the strength to do it. But Jesus, our God and our Lord (who is with me whilst I write, and who will be with you whilst you read this letter) has said to you and to me, " My grace is sufficient for you." ' O Lord Jesus ! see what I have written, and show that I do not expect too much from thee. Cause every affection of ours to be absorbed in thee ; and may all thy sheep love thee above all, and love one another as thou hast loved them !' Say — Amen to this prayer. And if you wish to know what to ask for me, ask that a spirit of perfect love. *' which seeketh not her own," may be given me.' > Isaiah, lii. 7. 2 i Thess. v. 13. 3 Luke x. IG. * 1 John iii. 14. l'§^ MEMOIR OP MARY JANE GRAHAM. Again, about a month after, to the same — • 31ai/ 5, 1827. ' I beseech you to seek earnestly " the communion of saints." This is the only progress I have made in the Divine hfe. L have received as a most precious and unmerited gift the power of feeling the things of the Hock of Christ as if they were my own. You cannot imagine the happiness of this feeling. The means through which the Father has given it to me, has been the Lord's Prayer. I dedicate (not always, because I am so hght and unstable, but generally) an hour every evening to prayer, and principally to intercession. I generally begin with the thanks due to God, for having made himself known to us as our Father, for all that he has done for every one of his sheep on that day. It is impossible for me to tell you the great delight of thus mixing myself up with the peo- ple of Christ, and of considering their benefits as my own. The thought which transports me the most, is that of how many souls have been perhaps this day joined to the church ! how many suc- cored under temptation ! how many recovered from their back- slidings ! how many filled with consolation ! how many transported by death into the bosom of Christ! It delights me much also to consider, that all the elect, who are not yet converted, have been and will be preserved till they are called by the Divine Spirit. I then try to pray for that sweet "we," and to think of the necessities of my Christian friends. Besides, I have a hst of unconverted per- f^ons for whom I wish to pray. I do entreat you to study with prayer the thirteenth chapter of 1st Corinthians. I am most anxious that you should enjoy this happiness ; and if you ask, you will do so.' In the next letter we find her mind exercised upon this interest- ing subject. ' It seemed to me when I last wrote to you, that the law of love to the brethren was engraven on my heart. But I feel little of it now. It was like writing on sand. Oh ! that all the flock of Christ had more, very much more, of this law. Oh that thirteenth of Corinthians ! Do read and pray over it. There is love— such love as we want — the whole law written in our hearts. I wish the Lord would give me to say something to stir you up to pray more for love ; and then, when you are quite full of love, that he would make you the means of conveying it to me. I would have you pray over 1 John iv. 16 — 21, as well as 1 Cor. xiii. We must first " know and believe the love which God hath towards us." That will make us love.' To another beloved friend she expresses herself with similar warmth and intensity. "How shall I, who am so full of §in, think to say anything that may be useful to you, my dear friend ? Yet perhaps " the comfort MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. tm& wherewith I have been comforted of God," in trying to spread your sorrows before him, may be communicated to your soul, while I am telhng you of it ; for blessed be Jesus — we are all one — members of the same body. "It is given us in behalf of Christ to suffer,'" and rejoice with one another. When I was trying to pray, I endeavored to think of a verse, which I miglit plead with God, and which might encourage myself The Lord put this into my heart — "Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word — (for us ;) that they all may be one ; as thou. Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in iisy'^ But oh ! the comfort that filled ray soul, when I thought that Jesus had lifted up this prayer for you long before you were born ! that he has had it in his heart for you (and for me too, and, all God's people, who all need it as much) ever since ! and he is praying the same thing for us now ! and finally that '•'■the Father heareih him always P'^ Therefore, the Father has heard, does hear, and will hear, this most gracious petition, which the Lord Jesus offered in the midst of his disciples, and which God the Spirit brought to their remembrance for our encouragement — " that we all may be one, as he is one with the Father." Yes — and we all shall he one, though Satan and all his angels conspire to divide us. He can no more separate us from the love of one another, than he "can separate us from the love of Christ." Truly, we have fellowship one with another ; and " we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren. '"■' May j'ou be enabled to use more boldness at the throne of grace, to "draw near in full assurance of faith," and claim what Jesus, ivho cannot ask in vain, has asked of the Father for you — a full and abiding enjoyment of that love to the brethren — that fellowship— that oneness with the saints, which is just as much yours as Christ is yours ! It is a part of your purchased possession ; and nothing can keep you out of your right, Ijut your own want of faith to plead that right with a God, who is more ready to give than we to ask.' Would that these enlivening sentiments of Christian love were universally diffused ! Our Lord's wonderful prayer^ on this subject is indeed, as Miss Graham observes, an answeied prayer — that is — in its incipient and progressive results. Yet it is only a specimen of that intercession, with which he has pledged himself, that " for Zion's sake he will not hold his peace, and for Jerusalem's sake he will not rest," until his Father shall make his "Jerusalem a praise in the earth."*^ The plenary blessing is yet in store for us. We want increased exertion and expectancy as a means of prepara- tion for it. We want to change our indolent anticipation of this union perfected in heaven for the immediate personal exercises of faith, patience, forbearance, and humility, by which " our hearts may be knit together in love,'"' even in the midst of the incessant 1 Phil, i, 29. 2 John xvii. 20, 21. 3 ibid xi. 43. « 1 John iii. 14. 5 John xvii. 21. 6 jsaiah Ixii. 1, 7. i Col. ii. 1, 186 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. conflicts of the church ; and we shall then be ready to help each other's labors, and hail each other's success. The present aspect of the church is hideed most afflicting. We would not narrow the necessary breach between the churcliand the world by any compromise of principle or of conscience. But how painful is it to " see the breaches of the city of David, that they are many !'" When will our Zion appear in '"the perfection of beau- ty"— as " a city compact together?"* "For the divisions of " o;/c tribe in Israel " there were great searchings of lieart."^ How care- ful, therefore, ought the scrutiny to be, when the evil spirit appears to be spreading throughout the whole camp ! It is not an ideal prospect that we picture to our imagination — but that "good and ^pleasant sight" to behold of" brethren dwelling together in unity."* Such was the church in her prmiilive glory, when " the whole multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul"5 — when 'the church — as Chrysostom observes — 'was a little heaven.' The motives to atteinpt, as far as in us lies, the restoration of this glory to the church are most constraining — such as fellowship with the spirit and prayer of our glorious Head — his honor in the world exalted by this heavenly spectacle" — the Church in every part "edifying itself in love"' — the Christian profession estabhshed^ — and the consoling privileges of the Gospel manifested and enjoyed.* The strength to promote this union in the Church will be found in deep self-abasement and wrestling intercession with our God. Let us enter into the spirit of the earnest pleadings of the " man after God's heart" for his people. " O God, thou hast cast us off; thou hast scattered us : thou hast been displeased ; O turn thyself to us again. Thou hast made the earth to tremble ; thou hast broken it ; heal the breaches thereof, for it shaketh."'" Impossible that " the Lord should" long " be angry against the prayer of his people !"" The scriptural rules for maintaining this union are most simple and explicit. " Whereunto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule ; let us mind the same thing." " Him that is weak in the faith, receive" — not cast off. " We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please our- selves."'* These rules are enforced by the example, no less than by the authority of our gracious Head, and directed to the highest end — " Receive ye one another, as Christ also receivetlt us, to the glory of GodJ^^^ Great indeed is the difficulty of holding conscientious differences in brotherly love. We are too apt to magnify the points of difference, while the due proportion of the points of agreement is somewhat obscured. We are more ready to dispute upon the points 1 Isaiah xxii. 9. ^ Psalm 1. 2; cxxii. 3. 3 Judges v. 16. 5 Psalm cxxxiii. 1. ^ Acts iv. 3-2. 6 John xvii. 21. 7 Ephes. iv. 16. 8 phil. i. 27. 9 ibid. ii. 1, 2, 10 Psalm Ix. I, 2. " Ibid. Ixxx. 4. '2 Phil. iii. 16. Rom. xvi. 1; xv. 1. 3 Rom. XV. 7. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 187 of controversy, than to strengthen each other's faith and love upon the principles of the Gospel. Thus our inordinate love of our own opinions leads us to press them beyond their legitimate bounds, and even beyond our sober intention ; and from this defect of connect- ing humility and forbearance with faith, many schisms arise in the body. Would that there were among us one heart and one purpose, to exalt our Divine Master — to let every name be lost in His — to de- sire no name to be great but His ! But the canker of the church is that party spirit — more or less common to all — which unites the several communities upon their own private grounds, instead of forming a rallying point for the whole body. A tame compromise of conscience is indeed greatly to be deprecated. Yet, unless pri- vate selfishness, (sometimes cloaking itself under the garb of con- science,) and party Shibboleths be merged in Christian love, no holy brotherly communion can exist. We do not expect brother to yield to brother, but each to submit his conscience to his great Head — each member to grow up into Him, and to recollect that he has some individual sentiment to forbear, from a considerate regard to the unity of the body. It seems to be forgotten that Divine truth in all its parts and connections is fully revealed to none — that the degrees of attainment in scriptural knowledge are indefinitely varied — that every difference in religion, is not a different rehgion — that there is a want of perfection and singleness in the clearest eye, that is an inlet for the partial introduction of darkpess — and that all of us are more or less criminally warped by the school in which we have been trained, by the atmosphere in which we live, or by the diflJerence of our own tempers and habits of thinking. Hence it is evident, that a sincere reception of the first principles of the Gospel lays a solid basis for mutual afiection ; and that in lesser points " forbearing one another in love," is the only efl^ectual means of " keeping the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace."' Indeed, * substantial harmony, combined with circumstantial variety,' (as Paley remarks of the evidence of testimony) is the only practicable cathohcity ; and to attempt a more entire agreement in detail would be a certain breach in the concord of the universal church. Yet, though unity of opinion is impracticable, unity of faith is to be con- stantly aimed at ; and this may be consistent with a great diversity of individual character, and even with many shades of doctrinal differences. But let us not be " ignorant of Satan's devices."^ Too success- fully does he succeed by division among the friends of Christ, to prevent the united assault upon his own kingdom. I-et us descend from our lesser disputes to the field of the conflict between the great powers of light and darkness. Let us "come to the help of the Lord— to the help of the Lord against the mighty."^ The voice of God to his church is, " Love the truth and peace:^* We love 1 Ephesians iv. 3, 3. ' 2 2 Cor. ii. 11. 3 Judges V. 23. 4 Zech. viii. 19. Comp. Rom. xiv. 19. 188 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. neither, if we love not both. If in the professed cause of " truth" we tear the consciences of our brethren, and wound the " peace" of the church, perhaps we may expect one common storm, one uniting bond of suffering, to be the Lord's appointed means of humbUng and chastising his church, and accomplishing his gracious purposes by the instruments of his loving correction. CHAPTER VI. HER ILLNESS AND DEATH. The period of her illness embraces a large portion of what in her case, as her father observes, ' might not be untruly called, " that long disease — her life."' From her childhood, her health Avas very delicate ; and the long illness which occasioned her leaving school, left a debility in her constitution, from which she sufiered more or less to the end of life. Violent pains in her head, chest, and side, appeared however to be the commencement of that disease, which gradually developed a fatal character. For some years she was in- deed able to exert herself, (too often much beyond her strength), both in bodily and mental activity. She continued her intellectual studies with her usual vigor, till about a year after her settlement in De^^n ; when increasing illness constrained her to send her young pupil to school, and she was never afterwards enabled, though she much wished it, to resunie the care of her education. From that time she became a decided invalid ; and except in the year 1827, (when she changed the scene for the benefit of her health,) she never moved beyond the garden, and only two or three times ventured into the outward air.' For the last two years she was entirely confined to her room, and unable to be dressed. Dur- ing the whole of this period, her anxious mother slept in her cham- ber, watching over her witli the most unremitting tenderness. She generally kept her bed, till within the last seven or eight months, when a violent cough, and spasms in the heart, prevented a re- chning position, except when she was compelled to return to it by fainting and exhaustion. The only reusorce was a chair well sup- ported with pillows, in which she sat up day and night, and from which the assistance of three persons was required to remove her during the last few weeks of her life. She appeared, however, to suffer less from debility than many invalids. For though she was wholly unable to stand, yet a change of medical regimen appeared to give her temporary relief from distressing helplessness. In this state of wearisome languor and pain, her mind, however, was always vigorous and full of energy. She never seemed to know an idle moment. During the whole period of confinement to her bed, she was always surrounded with books, or other objects I Of one of these times the following memorandum occurs in a letter to her cousin. ' To-day, I know not how, all my illness seems to have disappeared, and I feel much better, so that 1 have been out in the garden the second time since you left me. Ah! how delightful the weather was ; what pleasure I felt in breathing tlie fresh air, in see- ing the trees which begin to bud, the spring flowers which are appearing, and in hear- ing the song of the birds, who seem to rejoice no less than myself in this season.' 190 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. that engaged her attention. It was her habit to have her table placed by her bed-side every night with her books and writing ma- terials, that she might commence her operations with the earliest dawn of light. Her beloved Bible was always under her pillow, the first thing in her hand in the morning, and the last at night. Sub- ordinate to this object of supreme interest, her diligence and perse- verance in study were most remarkable. When reminded that such intense application must be injurious to her health, she al- ways replied, that she considered these diversified sources of in- terest as amongst her greatest temporal blessings, in diverting her mind and attention from her bodily ailments. Her studies in the sick room were as varied as in the time of health. Sometimes tlie languages were taken up. At other times the more engrossing study of mathematics fixed her mind. This in its turn was ex- changed for chemistry or botany. Occasionally, when her mind was less equal to exertion, she w^ould amuse herself with lighter employments. In the spring of her last year, she attempted to dry flowers which her parents procured for her, wi(,h the intention of forming an herbarium. But increasing indisposition frustrated this plan. Cutting out paper was also a favorite amusement, in which she early excelled. Her skilful use of the scissors had attrjftted in her young days the admiration and interest of her school-fellows. She was also a beautiful netter, and sent a number of purses to her Spanish correspondent, which, when sold at a Bazaar for his pri- vate benefit, produced upwards of three pounds. Thus in these va- rious employments did her mind maintain its ceaseless activity, both in intellectual indulgence, and in all the exercises of practical devotedness. No opportunity of usefulness appeared to be forgot- ten. When detained from the house of God by her protracted in- disposition, her time and interest were employed in explaining the Scriptures to the servant who was necessarily occupied in attend- ance upon her ; and in one instance it was lioped, as well as in a former case of much earlier date, that her simple and spiritual in- structions in the household Avere applied with divine unction and sovereign grace to the heart. As, however, her illness evidently approached its termination, her employments assumed a character more exclusively spiritual. She was occupied in girding up her loins, and trimming her lamp, in constant and delighted expectation of her Lord's immediate coming.' And now it was, that the Christian graces which had been matured in the school of affliction, and under the influence of habitual communion with her God, displayed more manifestlv their holiness, beauty, and consolation. This was (as an excellent cler- gyman, be%re adverted to, wrote to her father,) the fiery chariot, her vehicle to heaven, in which — the more it shook her mortal frame, until it left it all behind — the stronger and more full of ' Luke xii. 35. 36, MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 191 faith and triumph in Christ Jesus, she grew in her immortal spirit.' A detailed account of this last period of her mortal career will, it is presumed, be found generally interesting. In these solemn seasons is every feature more accurately defined ; while the color- ing is heightened by the impressive manifestation of the love and faithfulness of our God and Saviour. To the last, her habits of active employment icere predominant. Her thoughts and time were much occupied in preparing her two small, but valuable works for publication ; and she continued to correct the proof sheets of them as they were sent to her till within a few days of her death. At first her mind was divided between the completion of her projected Series of Letters to a Governess; and the work — On the Freencss of Divine Grace. But mature de- hberation decided her in favor of the latter, as being calculated for more extensive usefulness. She was indefatigable also in her cor- respondence with her friends, upon the principle of duty, in using every opportunity of setting forth the grand and inviting subject of the Gospel to her fellow-sinners. She continued to write even after she was unable to use her pen, and when having had just power *to direct a pencil, her wrist had been bound up to give her a little strength. The following extracts from her letters, during this .solemn season of daily expectancy, mark the character of her mind. We select an illustration at some length of the intense anxiety with which she regarded the spiritual interest of those that were dear to her, and of the earnest, awakening, and yet encouraging applica- tion of the privileges of the Gospel, to fix them to an entire devoted- ness to their eternal concerns. ' Stoke Fleming, Sept. 28, 1830. ' " Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon •us, that we should be called the chikiren of God !'" This love should be enough for us. Come pain, sickness, poverty, afllliction ; and still the Christian must rejoice, when he considers "what manner of love the Father has bestowed on him." Reconciled to God; redeemed by Christ Jesus ; sanctified, taught, and comforted by the Spirit ; what is there in the world that can rob him of his joy 1 " Who shall separate him from the love of Christ?""^ And as long as he has this love, how shall he not " rejoice with joy un- speakable, and full of glory 7"^ 'My dear , I would stir up your heart to make this joy your joy. Oh that my God would give me words of power and persua- sion, and send them by his Spirit to your heart ! " Awake thou that sleepest ;" awake, awake. Time is passing — eternity is at hand. Thou must soon receive a crown of glory, " or cover thyself with thine own confusion as with a mantle." '• Behold, now is the accepted time. Seek the Lord ?iow while he may be found, call 1 1 John iii. 1. 2 Rom vjii. 35. ^ i Peter i. 8. 192 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. upon him nmo while he is near. Draw nigh unto God, and he will draw nigh unto you.'" Oh let me remind you, not in a spirit of re- proof, but of the most anxious, earnest affection, how long " the goodness of God has been leading you to repentance."* I believe it is now ten years, or nearly so, since we were confirmed together. Then you seemed resolved to make the Lord indeed your God ; to bo no longer " conformed to this world," but to " come out from the world and be separate ;" to walk as " a stranger and pilgrim upon earth." Often since then have you appeared to be affected by tlie same feelings and desires. The time you spent with me here was marked by one blessed season, during which the word of God seemed to be your delight; prayer to God your chief comfort; and you expressed your entire renouncement of your own righteousness, and a simple trust in the atonement and righteousness of God your Saviour. Recall that precious time to your mind, ray beloved friend. You were then beginning to be happy. Inquire how it was, that, instead of "going from strength to streagtli," from "glory to glory," " from faith to faith," you rekipsed so soon into your old uncomforta- ble state of mind, and have since found so little comfort in religion. Remember that now, even now, Christ is willing to receive you, to give you strength and peace, grace and glory; that he is able to save to the uttermost, and Jtiore willing to give than you to ask, more ready to hear than you to pray. Consider what an awful thing it is, to go on, for many years, '' halting between two opinions ;" knowing your Lord's will and not doing it; visited by repeated convictions, yet those convictions producing no decided appearance of conversion. Consider all tliese things, and again I say unto you, Awake, awake ! May God of his infinite goodness arouse you to a sense of the importance of eternal things ! May he enable you to wait upon him in incessant and importunate prayer, till he has " blessed you,'' (as he is most willing to do.) " witli all spiritual blessings in Jesus Christ !" ' When you come to die, all the trifles which now vex and disquiet you, will seem less than a drop of a bucket, than the small dust of the balance. But the concerns of your soul, of what immense im- portance will they appear ! Why should they not now assume their real weight and value in your eyes ? Death may either snatch you away suddenly, or be preceded by such violent illness, as to render you incapable of reflection. At such a time, how delightful will it be, to be able to lean upon Christ, as an old friend, not to seek him as a new one ! Oh, ray dear , you must find tirae to die ; why will you not find time to prepare for death ? You must shortly be in heaven or in hell ! must feel the happy conseq\ience of being pardoned and accepted in Christ, or the dreadful consequence of remaining in a state of guilt and condemnation. " There is now no condemnation to those that are in Christ Jesus — who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit" — who " mind not the things of ' 2 Cor. vi. 2. Isaiah Iv. G. James iv. 8. « Rom. ii. 4. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 193 the flesh, but the things of the Spirit" — who " look not at the things which are seen and temporal, but at the things which are unseen and eternal" — who "live not to themselves, but to him who died for them, and rose again" — who have " their conversation, their treas- ure, their heart in Heaven."' ' Examine yourself, my beloved , whether you answer to this character." I can write no more now, but as long as I continue in the flesh, 1 hope T shall not cease from time to time to remind you of these things, to beseech you to give yourself to Christ. ' My health continues much as when last wrote. I suffer much at night, as I can never lie down in bed, but am obliged to be propped upright in an easy chair. But they do not seem to consider me now in any immediate danger, and if no sudden attack takes place, they seem to expect that [ shall live over the winter, or even some time longer. All this is very uncertain ; but I hope that I am willing to wait, till my Saviour's time is come to call me home to himself. He doeth all things well ; and I may truly say, that he has " made all my bed in my sickness." " His comforts dehght ray soul ;" and " in the night his song is with me, and my prayer to the God of my life is"—" Precious Saviour ! Tender Father ! Thou will cast out none that come to thee." ' The following letter, written in the immediate prospect of eternity, is valuable, as an exhibition of those views of the Gospel, which will alone stay the soul in perfect peace at that awful juncture. It is salvation, rich, free, full, finished — not a matter of uncertainty, dependent upon our own efibrts or righteousness ; but ordained, wrought out, and applied by God— not connected with faith, re- pentance, and love, as our previous fitness for the reception of it ; but including these graces as component parts of the inestimable gift, "afore prepared of God, that we should walk in them."^ ' Juhj 5, 1830. ' I find, my beloved friend, that in death no past good works, no holy endeavors or desires can give the least comfort, except as evi- dences that we have been accepted for Christ's sake. My sole con- fidence is— that I have cast my poor guilty soul entirely, and with- out reserve, on the free mercy of God in fJhrist Jesus ; casting far from me every other hope. My good works— where are they'? I can remember none. They are too poor to think of without the profoundest humiliation. My desires and endeavors— Oh, my dear fnend, I feel I should insult my holy God, by even naming them. They are, indeed, "coverings too narrow for any one to wrap them- selves in,"3 at the moment of entering into the presence of God. But my Saviour hath clothed me with his own perfect righteous ness, and I wrap myself round in it with unspeakable feelings of security. I examine it on every side, and find it " perfect and en- tire, wanting nothing." I am not afraid in this my wedding gar^ 1 Rom. viii. 1,5. 2 Cor. iv. 18; v. 15. Phil. iii. 20. Matt. vi. 19—21. 2 Eph. 11. 10. 3 Isaiah xxviii. 20. 13 194 MEMOIR OF JIAKV JANE GRAHAM. ment, to appear even before the King of kings. I think I hear my Saviour perpetually saying to nie — ■" Not for thy sake do I this, be it known unto thee ; be ashamed and confounded for thine own ways.'" A sinful worm. May Jehovah, my righteousness, my Tower and Strength, my Rock of defence, my Sun and my Shield, my complete Salvation — Oh may he be your God and Guide, for- ever and ever !' >S7ie was usiially favored throughout the last ?nouths of her life with a remarkable sense of the divine presence. During times of extreme agony, ' Christ,' she said, ' is with me, " touched with the feeling of mine infirmities." '^ Her intercoiu'se with God at this solemn season, while it was most intimate, was yet most hallowed. One evening, after a day of great bodily suffering, her cousin went into her chamber to take leave of her for the night. The room was darkened, and perfectly quiet ; and the state of her soul seemed to accord with the outer tranquillity. She said — ' I can scarcely speak to you. The sense I have of the presence of God is so powerful, that it almost overcomes me. He has often manifested himself to me ; but never in such a manner as this night. Indeed I feel ready to exclaim with Job — " I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee.'"^ She said very little more, being evidently too deeply impressed to converse ; ' but' — her cousin adds — 'I shall never forget that night.' Yet this sacredness offeeling was mingled with cheerful delight. It was truly Hooker's 'reverend gayety'* — ' Oh !' — said she one day to a friend — • he gives me to speak to him " face to face ;" and sometimes, when I aiii so weak that I cannot utter words, his '•Spirit helpeth my infirmities, and maketh intercession for me with groanings that cannot be uttered.'"' I love to feel my weakness, that I may experience " his strength made perfect in weakness."^ T delight to lie low before hi?n.^ iShe loved to speak of the character of God. Her mind ap- peared to be much expanded in the contemplation, of his unsearch- able nature and glorious perfections. 'How delightful' — ^she ob- served on one occasion — 'to tiiink, that "God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all."^ All his dispensations are light ; and though now they seem dark to us, hereafter all clouds will be dispelled."* Her desires for a clear and full knowledge of God were inost intense. ' What' — she exclaimed one day, — ' are ten thousand worlds compared with one ray of the knowledge of God !' The ardor of her soul, unsatisfied with former manifestations, was continually stretched out for higher and deeper views of the divine glory. She was not afraid to offer that prayer, which seems scarcely befitting an archangel's lips, and which only the clear warrant of the Gos- pel preserves from the stamp of presumption. " I beseech thee ; show me thy glory."* Often did she entreat her minister to pray, » Ezek. xxvi. S^. 2 Heb. iv. 15. 3 joh xlii. 5. < See Isaac Walton's Life. 5 Rom. viii. 2(j. 6 2 Cor. xii. 9. T 1 John i. 5. '^ See Jolui xiii. 7. 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 9 Ex. xxxiii. 18. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 195 that more might be revealed to her in this world. Nor was the pe- tition unheard. For, in reply to her dear mother's question a day or two before her death, her answer was — ' I could not feel happier.' The concentration of all her thoughts upon eternity was pecul- iarly striking and edifying to those around her. This main concern for the last few months of her life absorbed her entire in- terest. Nothing unconnected with it seemed to possess any claim upon her attention. The engrossing deHghts of intellectual study were relinquished forever. She had no enjoyment of any train of conversation, except that which directly led her mind and contem- plation heavenward. Communion with God was the one object of her desire. The word of God now occupied her whole attention. All other books — even her favorite authors — Romaine, Leighton, Milner, — seemed comparatively uninteresting. This heavenly ab- sorption of mind is finely depicted in the following short extract from one of her late letters to a friend. '^toke Fleming, Oct. 1, 1830. ' My dear , ' Knowing that my life hangs upon a thread, I dare not delay answering your letter : I pray God to enable me to speak the truth to you in love, and to dispose you not to think me 'your enemy, be- cause I tell you the truth.' But I 7nust, as long as I continue to live, continue to urge you on the subject of religion. I speak not now willingly on any other subject ; I desire to have no more to do with earthly things, but to turn my whole joyful expectation to that blessed Saviour, whom I believe I shall soon see face to face, through that infinite, undeserved love and kindness of his, which has taught me to put my whole trust in him for salvation.' Connected with this feature, we may add, that she seemed so perfectly weaned, from the world as scarcely to have an earthly wish. Several times she took leave of her beloved relatives. In parting with her young cousin about three months before her death, she writes — ' I have not one earthly care or wish ; for even my cares for her are now all cast upon God, whose tender love will, I trust, lead her all her life long, as it has led me. She is going one way, and T shall soon depart in another way; but I would wait patiently.' One day earnestly recommending a friend to "cast all her care upon God" — she gave the same expression of her mind — ' I have no earthly cares— no earthly wish. But' — added she — ''■ I have spiritual cares — spiritual wants ; but I cast even them all upon God.' Christ and eternity filled up the whole vacuum, and left nothing else to be desired. Resignation to the will of God was 'prom,i?iently marked during her illness, and was to her the somce of much heavenly enjoyment. After meditating upon her Saviour's words — " My meat is to do the will of him that sent me,"'— she observed, — 'Though I cannot ' John iv. ?A. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. now do the will of my heavenly Father, I can suffer his will.' She looked forward with great calmness to a protracted life of suffering, when the medical attendant gave his judgment, that she might probably live for many years, but would never regain her health. As she was naturally of an energetic disposition, ardent in forming and executing her plans, this state of acquiescence to so inactive a life appeared manifestly to be the effect of divine grace. Once indeed she remarked with tears, that the prospect of lying on that bed for many years — of seeing her friends die around her, and those whom she loved remove away (alluding to the anticipated re- moval of the rector's family, which, however, she did not live to see) was a melancholy thought. But the passing cloud was soon dissi- pated, and she regained her usual cheerfulness. The same warm temper of love to the Lord's people that had distinguished her general professio?i loas ruling to the last. Even in her state of distressing weakness, she could not be satisfied without seeing some of them around her bed, that she might enjoy sensible communion with them. However weak they might be in faith, or low in condition, her heart was fervently drawn out in union with them. In referring to some refreshing intercourse with two eminent Christians — she observed — 'How good my gracious God is in thus sending his saints to commune with me upon those deep and precious things which now form my only consolation — my "joy and the rejoicing of my heart !^' But' — added she, acknowledg- ing the supremacy of her heavenly Friend — -' after all, His presence is the only unfailing source of happiness. " With Him is the fountain of life ; in his light shall we see light." " Her views of sin were deep. Her friend observing her one morning to look unusually disturbed, ventured to express her con- cern ; when she remarked with a look that could not be forgotten — " It is sin that hath made me so. I have passed such a night ! The deep solemnity of her manner precluded any further inquiry. Yet it was afterwards discovered, that it was not her own sin, but that of a dear friend that had so acutely pierced her. Of herself she observed, on another occasion — •' Ever since I have known my sins to be pardoned, they have cost me a thousand times, more dis- tress than before. So awfully does the love of God, in pardoning, aggravate their guilt. The expressions of her deep humility, were peculiarly striking during her illness. All her attainnnents in the Christian life were never thought of, but as dross and dung. Her sense of unprofitable- ness kept her low in the dust, while the recollections of faith, ex- ercised in habitual application to the blood of her Redeemer, upheld her from despondency. When her minister ventined to express the advantage, which his own soul had derived from attendance upon her, she exclaimed with vehemence — ' How should such a dead dog^ as I am be of any use ?' She sometimes seemed as if she ' Psalm xxxvi. 9. 23 Sam. xvi. 9. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 197 could scarcely conceive the possibility of being the Lord's instrument for the good of his people, while at the same time she continued to employ her every power of body and mind in their service. This self -abasing- apprehension tvas, however, combined with ardent gratitude to God as the author, and to her friends as the cha7incl, of all her ?nercies. Every attention, every act of kind- ness from her parents and nurses, excited the most lively emotions of thankfulness. Speaking one day of the kindness of her nurse, her minister observed, — ' But oh ! how kind, how much kinder is Christ.^ 'Yes' — she replied — 'but even all this kindness of the creature flows to me through his love, his kindness.' Thus did all her earthly comforts receive a double relish — thus also were her bitterest trials sweetened by being traced up to their divine source, and by flowing into her soul througli the delightful channel of the mediation of her Saviour. The same food that had flourished her throrighoiit her journey, continued to supply strength and vigor for the last efforts. Her Bible was more invaluable than ever to her. It was her constant practice before she went lo rest, to repeat a text to her beloved mother, and to require one in return — assigning as a reason, that she might have them to think upon when she was gone.' She pursued the same habit of scriptural repetition with her atfectionate cousin — the constant attendant upon the last months of her illness- adding to it the privilege of social prayer, except when attacks of illness prevented it. " Ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full"2 — was her favorite text to the last. As in health, so especially in her last sickness, she had great delight in communion with the Holy Spirit. She used to address her prayers much to Him, thought much of his PersonaUty, and found the contemplation of it most refreshing to her soul. She would often speak with comfort of her experience of his distinct in- fluence upon her heart. Hymns were also a source of much refreshment to her soul. She used to repeat many to herself, especially during the night, and was thankful to the last to have them repeated to her. The last that her cousin read to her two days before her death, was one by Madame de Fleury, beginning — ' Ye angels, who stand round the throne,' &c. and Gambold's beautiful hymn, ' That I am thine, my Lord and God,' &c. was a great favorite. Cowper and Toplady also were a source of great delight to her. 1 A few months before her death, she presented her little Bible to her mother, having obtained from her the assurance that she would read a chapter every day with prayer. In order to keep the promise in mind, if the precious treasure was at any time out of reach, she would playfully ask for it, ' You know, dearest mother, it is not mine now, but do you lend it to me while I am here.' - John xvi. 2-4 198 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. She expressed to her minister her strong desire to receive the sacrament, the mention of which had been refrained by her friends on account of her great weakness and sudden attacks of violent pain. Slie feared, however, that she had too long neglected it, and could not be satisfied without the refreshment of this holy ordi- nance. When speaking of it before the administration — she said — ' Oh ! I desire a full communion. I long to see as many as possible of the dear children of God to partake with me of this blessed ordinance,' She expected, as she was justly warranted to do, a rich blessing in the fulfilment of the last command of her dying Lord. Nor was she disappointed. Twice she received th^ sacred emblems from the hands of the venerable rector of the parish (since departed to his rest) ; and in the following aflTecting letter, written in pencil with great difficulty immediately after one of these occasions, she expressed to him her grateful acknowledgment of the consolations which he had instrumentally imparted to her soul. 'My dear Sir, ' I thank you very affectionately for the comfort I have received to-day through your means. When I saw you, I regretted that I could not tell you so myself. But it is the Lord, who hath both dulled your power of hearing, and weakened my power of speak- ing ; and he does it with both of us, to warn us gently, that these frail bodies must soon be quite taken to pieces, and lie lill we are "clothed upon" with '-a body like unto His glorious body." It will give you pleasure to know, that, while you administered the bread and wine. I was enabled to cast my whole soul as a miserable sinner on the free mercies of Him, who died that we might live; and to rejoice in (he thought of our meeting ere long, through the same free grace, at the marriage supper of the Lamb. 'I wished to write these few lines to explain my own feelings to you ; for my dear mamma, in her anxious love, so much fears my seeing one, to whom she thinks I could not talk without exertion, that I fear it had never been properly explained to you, that though I feel unable to talk to you, I should be most happy to listen to you. ' Accept, my dear sir, the Christian love and thanks of your truly and gratefully attached ' Mary Graham.' The support which was vouchsafed to her in the midst of her intense hodily suffering, was such as might have been expected from the known and tried faithfulness of her God. Such was her enjoyment at some seasons of agony — that her ' pains,' as she said on one occasion, '"were sweeter than honey or the honeycomb." At one of her times of distress she remarked — ' I am a child lying in the arms of Christ, and he treats me with more than a mother's tenderness.' Truly, indeed, was she " strengthened with all might, MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 199 according to the glorious power of God, unto all patience and long- suffering loith joy fulness.''''^ It is almost needless to add as the concluding article of detail — that the sting of death was removed from her. 'It is not death to me,'— she would sa}^—' Jesus hath tasted death for me, and hath drunk up all its bitterness.' The pros- pect of eternity was entirely divested of its terrors, and beamed with the bright anticipation of everlasting joy. We may take the following glowing view of her hopes, given for the conviction of one of her young friends. ' Aug. 7, 1830. ' I am going to mention a sentence in your letter which grieved me ; not as it'^regards myself, but as it leads me to fear, that you are not fully acquainted with (hose things, which can afford real and solid satisfaction on a near view of death. You speak of feel- ing satisfaction in death, as it affords a cessation from all pain. Dearest , did you remember at the time, that death is some- thing more than a cessation ?— that it is an entrance into an eter- nal world, and that to those who "have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb," this is an entrance into eternal glory ? Bear with me, while I lell you from my own actual experience, what it is that ransomed sinners rejoice in at the approach of death : I have stood lately more than once on the very brink of eternity, and thought myself on the point of taking the awful step. This makes heaven and earth, temporal and eternal things, appear in their strong and true point of contrast. And now that'l am called back to the things of time for a little longer, if I can be of the least use to one of my fellow-sinners and sufferers here, I shall not regret the delay. It is not the cessation from pain, that can make Christians view the approach of death with satis- faction. For, believe me, they have not one pain too many. Not that they love pain, or are not glad to be freed from it, when the Lord pleases. But they know that every one of their sufferings is necessary and good for them, and that they come from the hand of a kind and tender Father. They are willing to bear as much pain as His love sees fit to inflict. Their pains are very sweet to them, as they come from Him. And, O dearest , could you knovy how he " strengthens them upon the bed of languishing, and how he makes all their bed in their sickness f^ you would almost envy them even their pains, sweetened as they are by " the peace of God which passeth all understanding." Wherein do they re- joice ? In the hope of being " forever with the Lord !" of seeing him, " whom having not seen, they have loved ; in whom, though now they see him not, yet, believing, they rejoice with joy unspeak- able and full of glory."^ Oh ! to behold this " King in his beauty," 1 Colossians i. 11. « Psalm xli. 3. ^ i Peter i. 8. Sfl© MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. and beholding — to be transformed into his glorious likeness !' and then to cease from sin ! — this, this is tJie blessed cessation after which real Christians jjant. To love their holy and reconciled God without any coldness or unfaithfulness ; to offend him no more by one unholy, or rebellious, or selfish, or unbelieving thought ; to be pure as he is pure; to be "without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing ;" and then to praise Him, to give him glory, and to cast our blood-bought crowns at his feet, through the counties ages of eter- nity! Pray, my beloved , that in the hour of death you may be so filled with these causes of joy, that the mere escape from a few bodily pains may seem not worthy to be mentioned in the com- parison. The Bible tells you, that " except you be born again, you cannot see the kingdom of God." and that *' if any man be in Christ Jesus, he is a new creaUire^ old things have passed away, behold all things are become new"'^ Examine, I beseech you, whether you have undergone that mighty change in all your views, tempers, and sentiments, which these expressions imply. If you die without being born again, and made a new creature in Christ Jesus, I shall never meet you in heaven ; for God, who can- not lie, hath said it. But pray, pray, oh pray to him, that he would thus convert your heart. He will hear and answer you. There is nothing else worth living for, but that, living or dying, you may be the Lord's. May this be your happy case !' She would sometimes speak of herself as a disembodied spirit ; as if she reaUzed in the fullest perception and assurance, her entrance into the world of blessedness. Her frequent reference to her depar- ture was in calm composure — like making preparation for a short journey, or a temporary absence. At other times it was in joyful hope. On one occasion — six months before her death — ^when she was thought to be dying, she unexpectedly revived, and, seeing her weeping friends around her, asked her dear mother why they were all in tears — adding with great animation — ' Do you think that I shall be with Jesus to-morrow V At another of these times, she ex- claimed— ' If the Lord should come and take me this night — but, oh ! — that is too much to hope for.' After a violent attack of cough- ing and spasm, a friend observed — ' I fear you suffer much.' ' Oh, no !' — she replied — ' I delight to feel the pins of the tabernacle taking out.' She burst into tears, when a physician who occasionally saw her, informed her, that the disease had not made the progress which he had supposed. This, however, was but a momentary feeling. For, upon her mother's remindingher — that she was only not quite so near home as she had expected, she replied — ' Oh, no ! this is wrong;' dried up her tears, and returned to her usual serenity and cheerfulness. Writing to one of her friends in reference to a be- loved saint, who had died in the triumph of the Gospel, she re- marked— ' Well ; I shall have one friend more to welcome me, I Isaiah xxxiii. 17. 1 John iii. 2. 2 John iii. 5. 2 Cor. v. 17. MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM. 201 when the Lord's lime shall come to " administer" to me also " an entrance into his everlasting kingdom." " Oh, blessed hope ! happy sinners ! saved by the blood of Jesus." Then she adds this affec- tionate exhortation, ' Oh, my dear, my beloved friend, 1 charge you so to devote yourself to the Lord, that '• the full assurance of hope" may cheer you now, and at the hour of death.' Upon receiving the intelligence of the sudden death of another Christian friend, she ex- claimed— ' I have heard the good news. She has rent the veil at once. Mine is taking down piece by piece. By and by I shall find a chink large enough to get out of; hke a bird confined in a cage, and fluttering about to extricate itself in vain, till at last the door being open, the happy prisoner wings its flight towards hea- ven.' There might probably be an occasional mixture of infirmity in these intense desires for her home. It is indeed the dictate of Christian wisdom to prefer the gain of death. But it is equally the part of Christian obedience to embrace the service of life ; and the desire to depart, so far as it is not subjugated to the readiness to wait, partakes of the nature of self-will more than of holy affections. Generally, however, the ardency of her desires appeared to be sub- dued to a resignation to the Divine will. Thus in reference to her dissolution she writes to the aged minister, who, during her resi- dence in London, had been the means of communicating estab- lished peace to her soul — ' Blessed be myall-sufficient Saviour, that, accepted in Him, a few months more or less can make no great difference : " Neither life nor death can separate us from his love." '^ On one occasion, after expressing her earnest longing to depart, she checked herself and added — ' But lam iLnlUng to sit here a hun- dred or a thousand years, if it he the icill of God? Her mind maintained its vigorous character in the midst of her protracted sufferings. The subjects of her conversation were usually of a highly interesting character. She would often speak with considerable clearness, combined with deep humility, of the more mysterious parts of revelation, such as the distinct Persons of the Holy Trinity ; the person and glory of Christ : the ministry of an- gels ; the state of separate spirits; the prospects of the Church of Christ. It is much to be regretted that no particular details of these conversations are preserved. The resurrection and future glory of the body were favorite subjects with her. She delighted to dwell upon 1 Cor. xv. ' What a wonderful change' — she observed on one occasion — 'takes place in nature in the acorn, which from so small and insignificant a seed afterwards expands and grows into a noble tree, the glory of the forest ! What a remarkable transformation also is that of the caterpillar, which, after having been changed into apparently dead matter, at the appointed time bursts its shell, and becomes a beautiful winged insect ! Had we not witnessed such changes, we should not have believed them possible. But having seen them in nature, shall we doubt the possibility of that I Rom. viii. 38, 39. M-^^'-j^ ^•.;'(M=; -^ ' i^' .■i:' i ; , x ^ . s U^H^ ^Ji \M ^^"^> ir ; n^ ••i Ur:^- ■■i\ i '*'■; ^-r-i^ ' -■(: ' * , 'i ¥, -^^ ¥ K' ':M "1^^: '■^: -<:: ' '^ i: J^:-* ' '4^ a1 ^?';-^; V-: ■. ^■': 4 d-U'M4^ '4My4'.A. ^'.^N. i^ 4?r-|^ 4^ 14 '^ ^•i ^?*^ '-^' -^ii? ^ ^4: M -m- "^f 4-. ii. --c^ ** ■fej-t ^ '^j-^- ■'f u<^'iiH\ , . i': ■ :!*.■ ■^ ^'■M4^4' ; V:: ^ i t' ^-^ ii' •-1 -V^-^-^:- j4^^v■>;' '-f " 4 : 4r r^'^lti'N- .4/ ^ ^'H