2Ji- LIBEARY OF THE Theological Seminary, PRINCETON, N. J. J Cm Sht 3724 B74 1334 ;ridges, Charles, 1794-181 k memoir of Miss Mary Jam Graham DONATION deceived A MEMOIR MISS MARY JANE GRAHAM. A MEMOIR OF MISS MARY JANE GRAHAM, LATE OF STOKE FLEMING, DEVON. BY THE REV. CHARLES BRIDGES, M.A. VICAR OF OLD NEWTON, SUFFOLK. PHILADELPHIA: KEY & BIDDLE, 23 MINOR STREET. BOSTON:— ALLEN & TICKNOR. 1S34. Philadelphia: T. K. Collins & Co., Printers, 49 Prune Street. PREFACE. The writer did not enjoy the privilege of personal acquaint- ance with the subject of this Memoir. But when the mate- rials, both of incident and manuscripts, 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 compensate 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 char- acter 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 readers, 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 in- terest 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 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, July 16, 1832. CONTENTS. Her early life CHAPTER I. CHAPTER II. Her relapse into infidelity 18 CHAPTER III. General sketch of Miss Graham's life — her views of study extensive attainments — and active devotedness to god ...... 27 CHAPTER IV. Further extracts from her writings and corres- pondence 59 I. On the great doctrines of the Gospel . . 59 II. On subjects of Theological Discussion . 80 III. On Christian Experience and Practical Religion 108 IV. On Miscellaneous Subjects . . .161 CHAPTER V. Different views and features in Miss Graham's christian character 194 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. HER ILLNESS AND DEATH . . . . . 220 % CHAPTER VII. Remarks 238 MEMOIR OF MARY JANE GRAHAM, CHAPTER I. Her Early Life. " The works of the Lord are great ; sought out of all them that have pleasure therein." Elevated, indeed, is the Chris- tian's pleasure in " seeking out the great works" of creation. But it is the work of " Redemption," which mainly attracts his delighted contemplation ; as the 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 dis- play of " the beauties 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 bliss- ful 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 has created it." It is the ob- ject of the following sketch to bring forth to view one of these striking manifestations of Divine power and grace, and to il- lustrate, in connexion with this memorial, some of those edi- fying and instructive lessons which it will be seen to present before us. B 10 MEMOIR OF 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 delicate health,) to the village of Stoke Fleming, near Dartmouth, Devon. She appears to have been the subject of early religious convictions. At the age of seven she had acquired those habits of secret prayer, which may be considered a favourable mark of Divine influence upon her soul. But we will give the history of this era of her life in her own words. To a friend, who had evinced some incre- dulity of the genuineness or permanency of early impressions of religion, she thus writes: March 20, 1827. 1 You appear, my dear friend, to think very early piety too wonderful 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 ordain- ing strength out of the mouths of babes and sucklings." But David's wonder and yours 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 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 dreadful sin of limiting the power of the Holy One of Israel. Jesus has said, *« Suffer little children to come ;" 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 her- self a very good little girl, because she said her prayers every night and morning, and was not more passionate, wilful, and perverse, than most of her young companions. The God of MARY JANE GRAHAM. 11 love did not think this sinful child too'young to learn of Je- sus. 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 ser- vant into some almshouses belonging to Rowland Hill, who had just been preaching at 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 Lord 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 poor sinful child's heart. She walked home in silence by her nurse's side, thinking how she could get Jesus to be her friend. Then she remembered how often she had slighted this dear Saviour; how she had read of Him in the Bible, and been wearied of the subject; • how she had heard the minister preach Jesus, and wished the long dry sermon over; how she had said prayers to Him with- out minding what she said; how she had passed days, 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 for ever. Would Jesus love her now 1 Would he ever forgive her 1 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 fit to have Him for her friend. Let me mention it for the encouragement of those who seek Jesus, that He did not disdain 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 her 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 her father to tell her who this Lamb of God was. He explained the precious 12 MEMOIR OF 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 con- found 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 to 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 quite to<* depart from Him. To this day her vain and treacherous heart is continually leading her to provoke her heavenly Friend. He "visits her transgressions with the rod, and her iniquity with stripes ;" but. He has sworn never to " take His loving-kindness from her, nor to suffer His faithfulness to fail." She is constrained to acknowledge, that during all this time she has never done one thing that could merit God's favour. 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 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 ex- perience, and leave it when she goes hence as her dying tes- timony, that there is nothing worth living for except to know Him, and see others come to Him, and wash their guilty MARY JANE GRAHAM. 13 souls in the blood of the Lamb. God has given her the bless- ing of seeing a happy change take place in some of the dear companions of her childhood and youth. 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 ad- dressed ; 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 exquisitely beautiful and natural letter, and her published ac- count of this important crisis.* Her apprehensions of Divine truth, as expressed in her letter, were indeed clear and en- livening far beyond the average spiritual capacity of children. Yet her ' view of many of the doctrines of Christianity, ' which she afterwards so fully developed and so richly en- joyed, were at this time ' very indistinct.' Doubtless also much of natural feeling and excitement was mingled with these early impressions of religion ; while what was of a spiritual character, as she afterwards discovered, was not suf- ficiently grounded upon that sense of universal guilt and help- lessness which prostrates the sinner at the foot of the cross, simply dependant upon a free salvation. This superficial cast of impression, without invalidating the reality of a Divine change, will account for the instability which marked her early course in the ways of God. From her own history we learn that she ' was enabled to walk with God in sincerity and without any considerable declension during the greater part of her childhood, and the commencement of a riper age.' Af- ter this period, however, ' more than once,' as her letter in- forms us, she ' forsook' her Heavenly Friend, ' turned to follow the vain things of the world,' and " wenton frowardly in the way of her own heart" — "leaning to her own under- standing," and led captive in her own folly. Of this 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, and not merely called forth on particular occasions. She was a most amiable, affectionate, and dutiful child, sel- dom needing correction, tender-hearted when told of her * Test of Truth. By Mary Jane Graham. This very valuable work has just been republished by J. Whetham, Philadelphia- — Ed, b 2 14 MEMOIR OF faults, and by her general kindness of disposition attaching- all the members of the household to herself. She was remarka- bly free from selfishness ; always ready to yield to her com- panions, even to deprive herself of what she valued. Her lit- tle 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 hand, and seemed never so happy as when employing herself in the improve- ment of her mind. Yet this thoughtful cast of character was by no means tinged with unnatural gloom. In all the harm- less games of childhood none of her companions excelled her in playful activity;* while in the midst of her cheerful tem- perament, it was abundantly evident that the main concern of religion was uppermost in her mind. 'I recollect,' her cou- sin writes, 'that when we were quite little children, she made some attempt to talk to me about religion; once espe- cially, 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 often, sent to a school of a different kind. Many of her companions who survived her will pro- bably long preserve the remembrance of her peculiar kindness and gentleness of spirit, 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 constrained 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 any assumption upon the ground of her acknowledged superiority. One trait of peculiar loveliness was here exhibi- ted, (the spirit of which was marked on various occasions in after life,) in her consideration of any of her companions who from any unfavourable causes might appear to be neglected. * One of her early friends however remarks, that her games and manner of amusing partook more of imagination and of talent than those of the generality of children. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 15 Those were the objects of her particular notice, and with them she shared all her little indulgences. Her religious impressions appear to have been cherished by the familiar exhortations of the husband of her preceptress, and by devotional exercises with those of her companions who were living under the practical influence of their Chris- tian instructions. 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 removal from school. Her illness lasted for about two months, during which time, 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 repeated 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 seaside. So instinctive were her habits of active usefulness, that she employed her- self, though only in her thirteenth year, in collecting a few children for the purpose of instruction, and in distributing tracts. In returning home to her parents, she enjoyed with them the rich and responsible privilege of the ministry of the late Rev. Samuel Crowther, Vicar of Christ Church, New- gate Street ; an eminent " watchman of Ephraim, now with his God." Under his faithful and affectionate instruction she was brought to the ordinance of Confirmation about the age of sixteen, and publicly "joined herself to the Lord in a per- petual covenant never to be forgotten." These interesting materials of Miss Graham's early life may suggest a few profitable remarks. Let Christian parents be excited to an immediate and per- severing discharge of their anxious responsibilities. Early impressions are of the highest moment in reference to the fu- ture course of their children. Let them be prayed for, expected, cherished. They cannot be too early or too urgent in present- ing (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 scarce- 16 MEMOIR OF )y fix the precious seed too soon into the fresh soil. The pure simplicity of the rudiments of the Gospel is specially suited to the dawn of infant intelligence ; and well would it be, if our children should never be able to recur in after life to the time when these vital truths were first presented to their minds. The child's intellect opens faster than is commonly considered. The first impressions often retain a firm and per- manent grasp through life. And abundantly has the experi- ence of the Church testified, that early piety is eminent piety,* It may appear suspicious, that so little shade is discovera- ble upon the records of Miss Graham's childhood. But de- fects cannot be noticed, where they were not observed. Probably our own sphere of observation, if not our immediate circle, is not wholly unfurnished with similar cases, sufficient to preclude an unwarranted incredulity. 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 1 Self-knowledge under Divine teaching soon discovered to her, that under this attractive garb was hid the mighty principle of alienation of heart from God. There was no natural preparation for heav- enly influence. It was only a more lovely appearance of the death that reigned within. Her subsequent expressions there- fore of self-abhorrence were not the ebullitions of a false humility, or of misguided fanaticism, but the genuine con- viction of the Spirit of God upon her heart. The subject of our history suggests also the importance of an early excitement of the principles of active usefulness. No doubt Miss Graham's habits of early activity had an im- portant influence in maturing her character for the high privi- lege of devoting herself to the interests of her fellow creatures. It was Cotton Mather's practice to endeavour to enlarge the * ' Barker's Parent's Monitor' gives an useful digest of informa- tion, 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. Hoare and Mr. Babington, which cannot be too highly recommended. Per- haps the most full and interesting illustration of these principles will be found in the Biographies of the Henry Family, (Life of P. & M, Henry, and Mrs. Savage) by Mr. Williams, of Shrewsbury. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 17 minds of his children, by engaging them daily in some 1 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. This example cannot be too strongly inculcated. To give to children an object beyond themselves, would tend much to counteract the natural principle of selfishness, so baneful to their personal happiness, and to their intellectual, moral and spiritual improvement. CHAPTER II. Her Relapse into Infidelity, About the age of seventeen, Miss Graham's mind underwent a most extraordinary revolution. She fell, for a few months, from the heavenly atmosphere of communion with God, into the dark and dreary regions of infidelity. Allusion has al- ready been made to this afflicting circumstance, in her letter. But for a most interesting 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 opened in a metaphysical form, un- favourable to a simple reception of truth. And this, con- nected with a defective apprehension of her lost estate, induced a spirit of self-dependence, one of the most subtle and suc- cessful hindrances to the Christian life.* Thus was the way opened to a secret habit of backsliding from God. Tbe foolish vanities of the world for a while captivated her heart ; and her manners were remarked to be like any other thought- less girls of her own age. From frivolity she sought refuge * She alludes to an injury, which her own mind, in common (as she conceives) with many others, had received from adopting- Dod- dridge's form of covenanting with God. (Rise and Progress, chapter xvii. ) This was in her thirteenth year. Let it however he remembered, that, though this mode of dedication may have frequently ministered to a legal spirit, yet it by no means necessarily partakes of an un- evangelical character. This " subscribing of the hand unto the Lord," has been found by many eminent Christians (as, for exam- ple, in Philip Henry's family) to be a cord of love, not a yoke of bondage. Allusion is probably made to it as an acceptable ordi- nance in the service of the Gospel. — -iWa/rxliv. 3 — 5. MEMOIR, &C. 19 in her more solid intellectual pursuits. All sources of self- gratification within her power were resorted to with the fruit- less 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 comfort, 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 to many other minds cast in the same mould), an oc- casion of perplexity. 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 itself. < I suspected,' said she, « that a system of religion, which involved such apparent absurdities, could not possibly come from God. Determined to sift the matter to the utmost, I eagerly ac- quainted myself with the arguments for and against Chris- tianity. My understanding was convinced that the Scriptures were divine. But my heart refused to receive the conviction. The more my reason was compelled to assent to their truth, the more I secretly disliked the doctrines of the Bible.' Continued resistance to convictions was the natural and melancholy 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 maturity of judgment prevented her from discovering. Those early religious impressions, that usually form a bulwark against infidelity, in her case proved a stum- bling-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 intelligibly informed or exercised. She now, therefore, determined to burst her chains, and to think and examine for herself. Hitherto she had confined her perplexities within her own bosom ; partly dreading the influence of external bias, and partly fearing to infuse into another's mind doubts concern- ing a book, which, she could not conceal from herself, might after all be true. She endeavoured now to strengthen her mind by pursuing a course of intellectual study, with the di- 20 MEMOIR OF rect design of preserving herself from becoming a dupe to "cunningly devised fables." And here she did not fail sub- sequently 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 way- wardness 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 deci- dedly injurious. 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 con- science. Even her intervals of reflection were too easily soothed by the indefinite postponement of the great concern to " a more convenient season." Occasional convictions were indeed felt, but without any permanent or practical influence. Through the Divine mercy this state of infatuation did not prove of long duration. After a few months' captivity, she was brought, though not without severe conflict of mind, to the full light and liberty of scriptural 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 life 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 wholly unconnected with any discovery of the way of forgiveness, naturally tended to despondency. Every fresh sense of the corruption of her heart and of the unsullied purity of the Di- vine character, brought with it a corresponding sense of guilt. She could expect therefore nothing but punishment propor- tioned to the infinite sinfulness of her offence. She could not conceive the consistency of her forgiveness with the claim of Divine justice ; and the alternative of her eternal punish- * It may be remarked, that severe providential afflictions about this period concurred with the exercises of her own mind, to awaken her mind to this self-abasing recollection of her fearful departure from God. MARY JANE GRAHAM, 21 ment 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 per- ception of the beauty of holiness, that the thought of an un- holy God was worse than hell to me. I felt that I had rather God should pour out on me all the vials of his wrath, than that, carried away by an unworthy softness and weakness, he should forgive, and thereby encourage sin. To undergo eternal punishment was horrible. To acknowledge an un- holy God was more horrible.' As her last expedient, her despised Bible was brought to mind. And ' how different' — she observes — ' was the tem- per of mind, in which I now addressed myself to its perusal, from that in which I 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 human knowledge. The contemplation of my own ignorance, weakness, and wicked- ness, 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. And this is the pro- cess, which must take place in the soul of every man, before he can pursue the search after truth in a right spirit. Her interest was early directed to the promises of Divine teaching to the sincere inquirer after truth. Their suitable- ness fixed her attention. Their freeness encouraged her heart. " Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find. He giveth his Holy Spirit to them that ask him" — especially arrested her. She determined to make trial of them, conceiving that their fulfilment in her own case would be a * Test of the Truth? of the hook, which held them forth for her acceptance. Though hindered at first by a sense of nnworthiness, she ventured to apply; justly considering, that whatever might be her apprehensions of her own demerit, yet a state of submission and desire could not be so displeas- ing to God, as one of carelessness and rebellion. But the description of this anxious crisis must be given in her own striking words. ' Impelled by these reflections — fearful and uncertain, but with uncontrolable, unutterable longings, I directed my applications * To the unknown GodS O my Re- deemer ! the first breathings of my soul were not uttered in thy name ! I rushed into the presence of my Judge without a mediator. But doubtless even then Thy comeliness was C 22 MEMOIR OP thrown over the deformity of my soul ; and the eye of my Father beheld me with pity, for thy dear name's sake. My prayer ascended up to heaven, fragrant with the incense of thy merits ; though the poor wretch who offered it thought to please God by leaving thee out of it. In this prostration of soul she continued " watching daily at her Lord's gates, waiting at the posts of his doors." It need scarcely be added, she did not seek in vain. The Divine character now appeared before her, not, as before, in its con- suming holiness ; but in the combined glory of holiness and love. Her apprehensions of sin, of Christ, and of the whole system of Christian truth, were now irradiated with heavenly light ; and with simplicity, and godly sincerity" of " heart," she was enabled to " believe unto righteousness." The cha- racter of Christ, as a proof of the credibility of the Christian revelation, arrested her particular attention. A minute scru- tiny of His spotless life was most satisfactory in its result.* 1 The more,' said she, ' I studied this Divine character, the more I grew up as it were into its simplicity and holiness, the more my understanding -was enabled to shake off those slavish and sinful prejudices, which had hindered me from appreciating its excellence. Truly his words were dearer to me " than my necessary food." He was my " All in all." I did not want to have any knowledge, goodness, or strength, independently of him. I had rather be " accepted in the Be- loved," than received (had that been possible) upon the score my own merits. I had rather walk, leaning upon his arm, than have a stock of strength given me to perform the jour- ney alone. To learn, as a fool, of Christ ; this was better to * This is not a solitary instance of impression from the contem- plation of the character of Christ. Even Mr. Chubb must have felt some conviction, when he describes his life 'as a beautiful picture of human nature in its native purity and simplicity ; and showing at once what excellent creatures men would be, when under the influ- ence and power of that gospel which he preached unto them. ' (True Gospel, p. 56.) Rousseau's exquisite contrast between Socrates and Christ is well known, concluding with the remarkable acknowledg- ment respecting the latter :— ' The inventor of such a personage would be a more astonishing character than the hero.' Yet could this man's heart resist the dear conviction of hisjudgment — F I can- not*— he subjoins—' believe the Gospel.'' His Confessions, however, clearly trace his unbelief to its proper cause — the love of sin. See John iii. 19, 20, — a text which throws more light upon the secret springs of infidelity, than whole volumes that have been written upon the subject. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 23 me than to have the knowledge of an angel to find out things for myself.' After her recovery from this fearful snare of Satan, she was mercifully preserved from " turning again to folly," and. led forth in " the path of the just," with increasing light, strength, and establishment. « From that moment,' she adds, * I ceas- ed to stumble at the doctrines of the cross. The doctrines of Scripture, which had before appeared to me an inexplica- ble mass of confusion and contradictions, were now written on my understanding with the clearness of a sunbeam. Above all, that once abhorred doctrine of the Divinity of Christ was becoming exceeding precious to me. The external evidences of Christianity, though I now perceived all their force, were no longer necessary to my conviction. From that time,' she concludes, ' I have continued to " sit at the feet of Jesus, and to hear his w r ord ;" taking him for my Teacher and Guide in things temporal as well as spiritual. He has found in me a disciple so slow of comprehension, so prone to forget his les- sons and to act in opposition to his commands, that were he not infinitely " meek and lowly in heart," he would long ago have cast me off in anger. But he still continues to bear with me, and to give me " line upon line, and precept upon precept." And I am certain, that he " will never leave me, nor forsake me ^' for, though I am variable and inconstant, " with him there is no variableness, neither shadow of turn- ing." '* The writer cannot but hope, that at this awful crisis, when a moral pestilence (far more dreadful than the late providen- tial visitation) is stalking through the land, the preceding narrative may suggest seasonable caution, conviction, and encouragement to some, especially of his young readers. Let them mark the connexion of the first principles of infidel- ity, with the exercise of the understanding, and with the state of the heart. Pride of intellect in Miss Graham's case, was evidently one * Test of Truth, pp. 112—117. The extracts given from this in- teresting little work, will be sufficient to commend it to the read- er's attention, as the production of an author of no common ppwer, and deeply imbued with the glowing principles of the Gospel. It will remind the reader of some of Mr. Scott's painful exercises of mind described in his ' Force of Truth'' and of the argument so suc- cessfully handled by Bishop Burnet in his disputations with Lord Rochester. 24 MEMOIR OF main cause of her 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 understanding. 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 can- not see, is the unhallowed indulgence of a "fleshly mind." The extent and precise boundaries of revelation are determi- ned 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 un- der 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 percep- tion. The objects, therefore, would be less distinctly appre- hended ; and the result would leave us more restless and dis- satisfied, 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 happiness and present duty. The attempt to supply what we conceive to be wanting by the conjectural effort of reason, would be to subject "vain man" to his Ma- ker's merited rebuke — " Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge 1" Every step of advance be- yond the Divine record is fraught with danger and uncer- tainty. " In God's light" alone " can we see light." The intellectual " light that is in us," when applied 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.* * The writer cannot forbear to add some admirable remarks from an unpublished manuscript 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 implicit ere- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 25 We would add a few words upon the connexion of infidelity with the state of the heart. We are not exclusively intellect- ual beings. The affections so materially influence the judg- ment, as often to incapacitate it for the accurate discernment of truth. The natural bias of the heart is to sin, and conse- quently 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 in- telligent 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) endeavour to prove it untrue. A wrong state of dence 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, because we have reasonable grounds for con- cluding Him to be infinitely wiser than ourselves. An exercise of the reason is presupposed, whereby we are assured that the Bible is God's testimony ; and an act of the Understanding, whereby, having obtained this assurance, we infer, that every word of the Bible 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- The second — 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 not be true. Neither of these pro- positions is shaken by the fact, that the Bible contains many things which we do not understand ; or in other words, that God may know many things which we do not know ; that many things may appear to his infinitely holy and unclouded understanding, in a very differ- ent light, from that in which they are viewed by our narrow and prejudiced minds. When the first proposition is once proved to the entire satisfaction of the mind, the second must follow of course. Then faith, an implicit, childlike faith, becomes the only rational mode of proceeding. Every departure from this faith is a departure from reason ; an insult to the understanding ; a violation of com- mon sense. And that we do make such departures, only tends to prove, that while the renewed understanding " consents to the law of God that it is holy, just, and good ;" " the law of sin," which is yet working " in our members," occasionally beclouds and perverts it. c 2 26 MEMOIR^ &C. heart, as with Miss Graham, gives the power and advantage to this active and malignant principle. In her early state "of child-like 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 de- vices," brought her into his snare; and she was "taken captive by him at his will." 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 pow- erful writer remarks) * he opens the Scriptures, 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 understand the wonders, that by the knowledge of other parts of the Word, they are induced to believe couched in those parts, which yet they knew not.' One further remark suggests itself from this interesting record to avoid unnecessary distress and misconception. Let not Miss Graham's vivid portraiture of her own feelings and views be considered as a general standard, as if the same in- tensity of mental exercise, and clearness of spiritual per- ception were the exclusive evidences of a sound conversion of heart to God. Self-renunciation, diligent investigation of Divine truth, and a conscientious improvement of the light vouchsafed, are indeed indispensable marks of Christian sin- cerity. Yet while the enjoyment of our high privileges will vary in proportion to the energy of these holy principles, the measure of their influence is almost indefinitely diversified within the precincts of the true church of God. It may also be important to observe, that many of Miss Graham's most painful trials (such as her intellectual pride) arose out of the peculiar form of her natural character. No sympathy there- fore can be expected or need be desired in minds cast in a different mould ; and any effort to excite or encourage it, for the purpose of establishing an ideal connexion with 3 this ob- ject of attraction, (which would probably be unaccompanied with a desire to imitate the spiritual excellences of the pro- posed model) can only originate in deceit, and tend to self- delusion. CHAPTER III. General sketch of Miss Graham's life; her views of study / extensive attainments >• and active devotedness to God. Miss Graham continued to reside in London for some time after her deliverance from that awful delusion, into which she had been permitted to fall. The remembrance, however, of this temporary apostacy was " ever before her" with all that holy shame and self-abasement, which attaches to the "purified" conscience of the pardoned sinner; humbling her in the dust, while yet faith, hope, love, peace, and joy, were the dominant principles in her soul. Deeply also did she feel the constraint of the command given by anticipation to a backsliding apostle ; " When thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren." It was the great object of her ' Test of Truth,' to set forth her own case as a beacon of warning, an example of encouragement, and a monument of Divine grace, for the special use of those who might be brought into the same seductive atmosphere of temptation. There is reason to be- lieve, that her work in its original form produced its measure of conviction upon her principal correspondent; and we may confidently expect, that, in a wider circulation, an answer to her prayers for a Divine blessing upon it will be abundantly manifested. During her residence in London, the ministry of the Rev. Watts Wilkinson, and a deep study of the sacred volume, were the ordained means of advancing her knowledge and experience of Scriptural truth. Her intellectual habits were a source of much gratification to her ; and mainly con- tributed, under the blessing of God, to form her character into a mould of solid and permanent usefulness. It is however delightful to observe her Christian simplicity and watchful- ness, to subordinate these valuable enjoyments to the primary 2S MEMOIR OF object of the glory of God. Of this the following prayer, found among her papers, will furnish an interesting and edify- ing illustration. Before study of any kind, remember that it is but lost labour, except the Lord bless it. Summary of things to be sought of God before study. 1 1 desire to thank Thee, my God and Father in Christ Jesus, for this and every other opportunity of improvement Thou hast given me. May the opportunity Thou hast given me be blest of Thee ! Enable me to receive it with thanks- giving, and sanctify it to me by the Word of God and prayer. O let me know nothing but Jesus Christ and Him crucified ; and other things.jf'ustf so far as may be for my good and thy glory, and no further. I would mourn before Thee the base ingratitude with which I have hitherto abused my time and talents, by loving thy gifts more than Thee, and seeking myself, not Thee, in them. Now I bring all my things to Thee ; for they are not mine, but thine own. Take that ac- cursed thing, self, out of them all, and condescend to use them for thy glory. I thank Thee, that the meanest employment is acceptable in thy sight, when done in the name of the Lord Jesus. May I set about this, in His name, and in His strength, and to His glory ! May I not once seek my own things in it, but the things that are Jesus Christ's ! Let me no longer lean to my own understanding; but may I so ac- knowledge Thee in all my ways, that Thou mayest establish my thoughts, and direct my paths ! Suffer me not to be wise in my own conceit, nor vainly puffed up in my fleshly mind. Make me to lean from mine own wisdom. Be Thou my wisdom. Holy Lord God the Spirit ! who dividest unto every man severally as .Thou wilt, bless such of my studies, and in such a degree as may be most to thy glory. If it be thy will, prepare me by them for the work to which I desire thou wouldst call and separate me.* I commit this work, to which I would devote myself, into thy hands. Prosper it or not as Thou seest good. Thy will be done respecting it, * This was a plan, which lay very near her heart, for the gratui- tous instruction of the children of Missionaries, and of Christians in reduced circumstances, with a view to qualify them for the situation of teachers. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 29 only take all self-seeking out of it ; get thyself glory, Lord, in all that I do ; and keep me from ever wishing to rob Thee of thy glory. Lord, if thou wilt bless me abundantly, grant that in whatever Thou givest me, I may remember I have received it, and not glory as if I had not received it. I set myself to this employment in the name of Jesus : may I have fellowship with Him in it ! Let it not become a snare to me; but may the Lord who is my confidence, preserve my foot from being taken in this net, which has so often en- tangled me ! ' O Thou Glorifier of Jesus ! take of the things that are His, and show them unto me, and unto all Thy people, with such light and power, that our wills, desires, and affections may be quite swallowed up in His love. Let us have no will but Thy most holy will. Convince us that all things else are mere dross and dung, in comparison with that most excellent knowledge of our dear Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, which do thou give us every day more abundantly, making us to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. Even so, Holy Spirit, for the sake of thy great mercies in Christ Jesus, to whom with Thee and the Father, be all the honour, all the praise, and all the glory, now and for ever. Amen.' In the same spirit, an extract from a letter to a young friend engaged in the work of tuition, gives the following sensible advice, with a modest reference to her own case. March 22, 1827. 4 You ask me whether I think study is wrong. I think, on the contrary, if we study with a view to the glory of God, it becomes a duty to do so. If we study merely to please our- selves, I think it is wrong. Your situation seems to render study necessary; and when we reflect how few of those who are engaged in teaching are truly pious, it ought to stir us up to the best improvement of our time and talents. The love of study and mental amusements has been my great snare, and has so very often led me astray, that 1 have been tempted to give it up altogether. I feel thankful to God, that whenever I have begun to make some progress in my favourite study, he has thwarted my attempt to excel by some seasonable in- terruption, a fit of illness or some domestic trial. But when 1 think how very useful a moderate degree of mental cultiva- tion may make me, and particularly that it seems the way of usefulness most suitable to me, if I should recover my 30 MEMOIR OF strength, I mean to resume it as soon as I can ; and I hope in Christ, through whose goodness every opportunity of im- provement is given, that he will not suffer these opportunities to become hindrances to my advancement in the knowledge of him. Let us pray to be taught to feel, that all earthly know- ledge is mere dross and dung, in comparison with the most excellent knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and then I trust we may pursue, without abusing it, only tak- ing care never to neglect any present duty, or any spiritual duty for it.' But we will here give some large extracts from an unpub- lished Treatise « On the Intellectual, Moral, and Religious uses of Mathematical Science,' as conveying her full and matured views upon this important subject.* * We subjoin an analysis of this manuscript, which will give some view of the extent, general accuracy, and spiritual character of Miss Graham's mind. Introduction. Chapter I. The Usefulness of Math- ematics in learning to Reason ; Groundwork of Mathematical Sci- ences ; Art of Stating a Question ; Modes of Demonstration; An- alysis ; Connexion ; Art of Simplifying Processes ; Intei-mediate Principles. Chapter II. The Beneficial influence of Mathematics upon some parts of the Intellectual and Moral Character ; Atten- tion ; Abstraction ; Penetrativeness and Invention ; Arrangement ; Moral Habits of Mind. Chapter III. The Disadvantages of Math- ematical Studies ; Engrossing attention of the Pursuit ; Contempt or Mistrust of other Evidence ; Effect on the Imaginative Faculties. Chapter IV. The Advantages of Mathematical Science, and of the Cultivation of Reason in general, considered in a religious point of view. Chapter V. A review of the Disadvantages and Tempta- tions to which the Religious Student is Exposed. In the Introduc- tion she specifies the persons for whom sbe primarily wrote — ' those who, in the ardour of their pursuit after human learning, are not un- mindful of its immeasurable inferiority to " the wisdom which is from above." To them,' she remarks, ' study of every kind pre- sents considerations of higher import than even the intellectual ben- efits that are reaped from it. The introduction of religion into secu- lar matters is too often censured as impertinent and unseasonable ; and many will think it wholly out of place in a work professedly on science. I can only reply,' she adds, < by the simple confession, that I should grieve to be acquainted witb that science, which might not, under God, forward in some way or other the grand object of my existence. "Thou shalt teach them diligently to thy children, and shalt talk of them, when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down,!Bfcd when thou risest up." {Bent. vi. 7. ) These are the commands of God concern- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 31 Speaking of study generally, she marks with accurate dis- crimination the different principles of the worldly and the Christian student. 1 Many and varied are the motives hy which the worldly student is actuated. But his views all centre in some way or other in his own person. Self-gratification, self-advance- ment, self-interest, are mingled with them all. The Chris- tian student is also variously influenced. But he has learned to transfer all his actions to another centre. The glory of his reconciled God is the point on which they all turn, the com- pass by which they are all directed. The outward conduct of the two characters may present many points of similarity. Their inward intentions are totally and irreconcilably differ- ent. The intrinsic excellence of science, its ennobling influ- ence upon the mind, the delights that are to be enjoyed in the pursuit of it, and the benefits that are to be reaped in its at- tainment ; — these are objects common to the man of the world, and to the religious man. But mark wherein the difference consists. With the former they are primary objects of con- sideration ; the latter beholds them only in a secondary point of view. The Christian student is far from despising the ad- vantages of study. He has felt what it is to thirst after knowledge, and possesses a keen relish for the pleasures of intellect. But he puts all these considerations away from him, till he has answered a question of higher importance. His first inquiry is — 'How shall I study for God] How shall I render my acquirements subservient to his glory V If he cannot answer the question to his complete satisfaction, the uneasy recurrence of it will prove a continual drawback to the spirited and successful prosecution of his studies.' Upon a very prevalent misconception upon this subject, she gives the following just remarks, — ' It has been too much the practice with a well-meaning but injudicious portion of the religious world, to decry human ing the momentous truths of Scripture. They leave us very little ftime for science, independent of religion. Every believer in the Bible will endeavour to act in the spirit of these words. He will consider that time as lost, -which is spent without regard to eternity ; and that learning as useless, which he cannot employ in subservience to hea- venly knowledge.' This valuable manuscript was written about two years before her death. • She had intended, during her last illness, to have revised it for publication. But increasing weakness, and the overwhelming impression of the near prospect of eternity, compelled her to relinquish her design. 32 MEMOIR OF learning, as if it were a thing absolutely unchristian and per- nicious. They attack it in the gross, and apply to it all that the Scripture has said concerning " the wisdom of this world." They appear to forget that these censures apply not to the use, but to the abuse, of human learning. Those who "lean to their own understanding," who are " wise in their own con- ceits," who set human wisdom in the place of the Holy Ghost's teaching — these are the wise and learned, of whom the Scripture affirms, that the things of the kingdom are hid from their eyes. But the description was never meant for the discouragement of those who pursue human study in a simple, child-like dependence upon God. It sometimes happens, that the young convert, full of religious zeal, and possessed with some vague and ill-defined notions of the worthless ensnar- ing nature of human learning, is led by a mistaken sense of duty either entirely to abandon it, or greatly to slacken his efforts in the attainment of it, and so to shut himself out from a wide field of future usefulness.' Upon the lawfulness of study she draws the line with great precision and Christian simplicity. * Does the time' — she asks — 4 you now devote to study, break in upon any known and immediate call of duty 1 If it does, your way is clearly pointed out. No prospect of future good can justify you in the neglect of present duty. Your stu- dies must, according to circumstances, be wholly abandoned, or laid aside, till you can resume them without feeling that conscience is drawing you another way. Perhaps you are ready to exclaim, that " this is a hard saying." You cannot contentedly resign or postpone your hopes of mental improve- ment. Still less can you consent to hazard the loss of all that you have already acquired. Suffer me to remind you of two points of view, in which it imports you to consider this question. ' I readily admit, that the studies of worldly men may be successful, notwithstanding the evil spirit in which they are prosecuted. " They have their reward." But nothing that you , do can prosper, without the divine blessing. This must be the crown of your undertakings, or you labour in vain. If you know any thing of the spirit of prayer, you make it your con- stant request, that all your doings may prosper, as far as they will promote the glory of God, and no further. In answer then, to your own petition, God must withhold his blessing from your most laudable employments, if they do not lie in MARY JANE GRAHAM. 33 the direct path of duty. On this account you have no rational prospect of success. If you do succeed, be assured that some root of bitterness will spring up from the very accomplish- ment of your purposes. To continue your studies, therefore, under existing circumstances, would be to subject yourself to certain vexation and disappointment. ' On the other hand, I would remind you, that if you simply attend to your duty, and resolutely forego the most beloved pursuits the moment they come into competition with it, there is no fear that you should lose any thing- by such conduct. He who made and who preserves your intellectual faculties, can surely enable them to retain anything that will be really useful to you. Your small stock of knowledge will, with his blessing, carry you further than the acquisition of the whole circle of human science could do without it. We niay affirm of intellectual gains, no less than of those which are gross and tangible, that " a little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches of many wicked." We are commanded to " be careful for nothing, but in every thing to make our re- quests known unto God." You may therefore, in faith, com- mit your studies and acquirements to Him. You may freely ask, and confidently expect, that he will take care of them for you, and return them to you, whenever they shall be wanted for his service.' The lawfulness of study being proved, its expediency, im- portance, and responsibility, are next considered. ' But perhaps the contrary to all this is your case. You feel that you can devote a certain portion of your time to study, without infringing upon any prior and more imperious de- mand of duty. If it he thus with you, your studies are un- doubtedly lawful. It only remains to inquire, how far they may be expedient for you. ' Of this, you must yourself be the best judge. It must de- pend on a variety of circumstances, the particular bent of your talent ; the opportunities of improvement which lie with- in your reach ; your present situation, or your future pros- pects in life. Let us suppose that all or any of these combine in such a degree, as to give you reason to hope that your studies may open a door of usefulness. I shall endeavour to convince you, that no fancied dread of the snares and tempta- tions attendant upon human learning ought to deter you from the pursuit of it. In your case the acquisition of knowledge is not merely a permitted employment, but a positive duty. 34 MEMOIR OF God has made nothing in vain. He has given us nothing, which we may not use to his glory. This we admit without reluctance in reference to every minor blessing, with which his bounty has enriched us. We acknowledge, that our health, time, riches, influence, are all entrusted to us for God's ser- vice, and capable of being used to his glory. But do not they make a strange exception to this general admission, who so roundly assert the utter inefficiency of human reasoning, and of human learning 1 If so many things, which we possess in common with unbelievers, may yet be legitimately improved to the glory of God, why is the understanding to be excepted 1 Why must that best and fairest of God's common gifts be suf- fered to lie waste, only because it is a common one 1 ? None can deprecate more earnestly than I do the idea, that the un- assisted light of human reason can ever make us wise unto salvation. But shall we therefore say, that the reason takes no part whatever in our reception of truth 1 Remember, that he who gives you spiritual teaching is the very same who gave you this human understanding. He gave you not the former to supersede and overpower, but to guide and enlighten, the latter. Both are alike his gifts ; and though the one is inferior to the other, and useless without its aid, yet we must neither neglect nor despise it. Nothing that he gives can be worthless. So much for reason itself. And as for those parts of human learning, which contribute to strengthen and im- prove this faculty, they also are given by God ; means which he has adapted to the fulfilment of no ignoble purpose. We are just as much bound to use those instruments which Pro- vidence has placed within our reach for the cultivation of our understandings, as we are bound to attend to the culture of our fields. Nay, unless we deny that our minds are better things than our fields, we are more called upon to encourage the growth of the former than of the latter. If God has given you superior faculties, and the means of improving them, there cannot be a more manifest token, that he intends they should be improved. The parable of the talents is never more fairly exemplified, than when, in the way of duty, we go and trade with the natural abilities which our Divine Master has distri- buted to us, till we can bring them back to him with the grateful acknowledgment, " Lord, thy pound hath gained ten pounds." 'If then you are possessed of superior powers of mind, re- member, that the source from whence they emanate is divine. Esteem the gift very highly for the Giver's sake; and seek MARY JANE GRAHAM. 35 to bring- it to that perfection, of which he has made it sus- ceptible. Use your talents, as not abusing them. Keep them in the dependent, subordinate station which they are intended to occupy. Expect not from them more than they are capa- ble of performing. But expect something from them. Do something with them. Cannot you find any use for them T Take them to God. He has large fields for their employment. There is ample room in his vineyard. Pray that he would send you forth to labour in some way or other in that plente- ous harvest, whose labourers are so few. There is nothing so sweet as this simple committal of your way to one, who is infinitely able to guide and protect you in it. " In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." Then they become paths of usefulness indeed. The most brilliant fancy, the profoundest judgment, clearest understand- ing, the most extensive learning, are in themselves less than nothing. But intreat the blessing of God upon them ; and you shall find they will be worth just so much as he pleases. The infidel exerts the whole force of his understanding, blinded as it is by the god of this world, in opposing the doctrine of the cross. Let yours, illumined by a beam from the fountain of light, be no less unequivocally devoted to the service of the cross. Think not the time lost that you spend in study, if you are studying in and for God. Do not say; ' I will lay- aside the vanity of human learning, and trust only to the di- vine teaching for powers of sound argument and appropriate expression.' You might with equal justice say, ' I will aban- don the superfluous toil of ploughing my lands, and confide in Providence for a plentiful crop.' It is true in both these cases" that the increase cometh from God only ; but it is no less true, that he will have the planting and the watering to be ours. God will not help you, if you refuse to help yourself. The trust of the slothful is an impious and a foolhardy trust. His mind, like his vineyard, shall be grown over with weeds. 'In intellectual, as well as in spiritual gifts, "the Spirit divideth unto every man severally as he.will." Thus we read, that " Bezaleel was filled with the Spirit of God, in all man- ner of workmanship, to work all manner of work, of the en- graver, and of the cunning workman, and of the embroiderer." And if these meaner talents come directly from him, how much more the nobler properties of the understanding ! Are you in^ debted to his bounty for the possession of a piercing and com- manding intellect, and strong powers of reason 1 I am sure he 36 MEMOIR OF did not give them to you for nothing 1 '? Why fold that napkin round them 1 It is your Lord's treasure. What possible right have you to "bury it in the earth?" Do what you will with your own, if indeed you can find any thing which is your own. But beware how you trifle with what is his. He is coming, and will expect to "receive it with usury." * Consider, had those powers of mind belonged to you as the bondman of Satan, how would you have toiled to perfect them for his service ! How much mischief would you have contrived to do with them ! And shall " the Lord's freeman" take no pains to improve his talents in his Redeemer's cause ? Shall no good be done with them, now that they are Christ's 1 It is in truth a strange doctrine, that they must lie dormant, because Satan has no longer any claim upon their exertion. 4 Why is it, that we have such a dread of calling in the aid of our reasoning powers 1 Is it not, because we look upon rea- son as something of our own! If we reason in faith, is it not the Spirit of our Father speaking within us, just as much as in any other mode of addressing the unconverted! If we em- ploy human means only so far as we have the warrant of Scripture, of past experience, and of present providences ; if we cultivate our faculties in the humblest and simplest de- pendence upon God ; surely this is neither making flesh our arm, nor " leaning to our own understanding." ' Some difficulties connected with study are then discussed in interesting connexion with Christian principles. 'I cannot Taut attribute many of the difficulties which per- plex and obstruct the Christian student, to his not studying sufficiently in faith. We do not pursue our intellectual con- templations in the same simple, child-like dependence, which we are sometimes enabled to carry into our other duties. We make study an employment too entirely secular. We are apt to consider it as something wholly apart from religion. It is one of those subjects, upon which we do not permit ourselves to converse freely with our heavenly Father. To apply to him at every step for counsel and assistance, would convey to us an idea of presumption. W T e are afraid to trifle with the majesty of God, by expecting that he will take an interest in the mere earthly improvement of the intellect. That he both gave us this intellect, and bestowed on us the means of its cultivation, is admitted by us beyond the possibility of a doubt. W T e adore the bounty which has adorned and enrich- ed us. But we hesitate to believe in a condescension, which MARY JANE C4RAHAM. 37 shall stoop to notice the petty progress of each minute portion of this intellect, and make its daily and hourly advancement the object of benevolent concern. I would not, my beloved fellow Christians, utter one single expression, which might impair your veneration for the Divine Majesty. But in this timid reserve I perceive no marks of genuine veneration. Your privilege is to draw near to God with the tender rever- ence, the sacred familiarity, of a beloved child. To shrink from his presence with the retiring fearfulness of a slave, is to dishonour the scripture representation of his attributes. And in which of your earthly affairs can you hope that the be- nevolence of your Father will be interested, if not in the cul- tivation of your reason 7 ? It is the gift by which he has distinguished you from the rest of his earthly creation. It is that which stamps you with the impress of Divinity, which tells you you are born to immortality. The immensity of condescension by which the Most High bends his regard to any of our paltry concerns, is indeed beyond conception, as it is beyond praise. But if, where all is so unworthy, I might dare to mention one thing as less unworthy of his notice, it would be the progress of the mind. We " are fearfully and wonderfully made.*' But our intellectual faculties are the surpassing wonder, the crowning excellence of God's creation. The countless worlds that are scattered over the infinity of space, declare the glory of God. The magnificence which created, the strength which upholds, the wisdom which gov- erns the mighty system, afford inexhaustible matter of won- der and adoration. But the intellect, which is able to reflect upon all this, is something far more admirable, in which the glory of God is more greatly conspicuous. The original for- mation of reason is not, however, more wonderful, than the improvement of which it is capable. A man of a highly cul- tivated understanding appears altogether a being of a different order from one wholly destitute of the advantages of educa- tion. Reason, as it is the noblest of our faculties, so it is the most capable of being conducted to a high degree of perfection. And God is glorified in the perfection of his works. When therefore you cannot confidently look for communion with God in the exercises of your understanding ; when you are afraid to expect his co-operation in the use of the meanest of those human aids which he has given you for its improvement, it can only be accounted for in two ways. This hesitation proceeds either from the absence of a religious motive, or from d 2 38 MEMOIR OF an infirmity of faith. If you have no decidedly religious mo- tive for your studies, I do not see how, with any colour of propriety, you can devote yourself to them at all. I am not surprised to hear that doubts and difficulties throng your path. But if you are seeking to cultivate your understanding with a single eye to God's glory, you may so conduct each one of your literary employments as to enjoy his presence all the time you are engaged in it. You may draw near to God, even in your studious hours. He will not despise any thing that you do for him. His love accepts your worthless ser- vices with as much complacency as the princely obedience of an angel. I repeat it; to study in faith, in a humble, simple, child-like faith, removes every perplexity and temptation inci- dent to its pursuit. Your employments will then cease to appear altogether secular. Cultivating your reason as God's gift, and assured, that he beholds not with indifference your feeble attempts to glorify him in this greatest wonder of his creative power; its commonest exercises will become in a measure sacred as the exercises of religion. Spiritual im- provement, with no lingering step, will accompany your intellectual progress. " Holiness to the Lord" will be written upon the most trivial of your studies.' The influence of a vain-glorious spirit, as the canker upon this holy principle of faith, is pointedly illustrated. 'When once the thought of what men will say of us is permitted to mingle with our studies, all spiritual comfort in them is at an end. Our faith must necessarily languish. It can no longer be a living faith, an active principle. " How can ye believe, which receive honour one of another'?" was the severe rebuke of Jesus to the vain-glorious Pharisees. When I observe a Christian delighted with the homage that is paid to his eloquence, his judgment, or his taste, should he tell me, that his " love is not waxing cold," that his faith is as strong as when none but God cared for his obscure name, I should be beyond measure astonished at such a cir- cumstance, if indeed I could credit its reality. But in truth, the assertion only proves that the man's heart must be al- ready " hardened through the deceitfulness of sin ;" or that he has never known what true faith is, for " how can he be- lieve," so long as he is " receiving honour from men V ' The snare of self-indulgence connected with study, is most profitably treated. 'I have all along supposed, that you are studying with a MARY JANE GRAHAM. 39 view to the benefit of others, rather than to your own gratifi- cation. Yet even in this case self-indulgence may insinuate itself into your pursuits. If you possess a talent for them, they will prove so attractive to you, that you will become ' attached to them for their own sake. You will be tempted to prolong your pleasing employments, and suffer them grad- ually to steal something from the time appointed for other duties. We have already touched upon the absorbing nature of our mathematical studies, and the intellectual disadvantages which ensue from giving way to their silent encroachments. These, however, are of small moment, when compared with their corroding influence upon our spiritual enjoyment. An excessive fondness for these abstruse meditations, a habit of indulging in them for their own sake, will-be as a worm at the root of our communion with God. A lamentable declen- sion from his ways, will be the probable consequence. By insensible degrees the thoughts of our literary pursuits will begin to mingle with our serious meditations. Then the hour of study will break in upon the hour of prayer, and per- haps in time may totally interrupt or supersede it. Who can tell the train of evils which will follow such an intermission of our spiritual watchfulness I When prayer is omitted, study is unsanctified. Every selfish motive has free permission to enter; nay, is invited, as it were, to take possession of the heart, whose sentinel has thus deserted his post. And with what impertinent excuses do we entertain conscience all the time! 'I am just now so occupied, that I am scarcely in frame for prayer. Were I to attempt it, I should find it im- .possible to disengage my thoughts from the busy, perplexing reflections which have taken fast hold of them. When I have followed out these investigations to some satisfactory con- clusion; when I have considered this or that point a little more fully; when I have conquered this difficulty, or corrected that mistake, then my mind will be in a placid uninterrupted frame. Then shall be my hour of prayer. I shall then be- take myself to my spiritual duties with tranquillity and de- light ; whereas now they would be a weariness, a formality.' Thus the hour of prayer is put off to " a more convenient season." Our contemplations detain us longer than we had anticipated. The evening shades thicken round us; still we. are deeply engaged in our inquiry; still unsatisfied with the result. Midnight surprises us at our labours ; and at last the lateness of the hour warns us to repose, before we have found 40 MEMOIR OF time to pray. A sense of languor and drowsiness, the natural result ot our intense mental exertions, either quite prevents our devotions, or compels us to insult God with a prayer from which the heart is absent. We retire to rest with the paiftful feeling that we have lost a day. For every Christian must be sensible, that he cannot rob God of his portion of the day, without robbing himself of the whole. Still the deceit- fulness of sin will follow us with a lying consolation. ' It is but one day; to-morrow I shall awake refreshed, and my first thoughts shall be with God.' Let us not silence conscience with this deceitful plea. If I am not greatly mistaken, this one lost day is the forerunner of many more. Our foot has begun to slide, our steps to decline. To a heart prone to depart from God, this retrograde motion is natural and easy, while the effort to regain a forward progress is immensely difficult. The sin to which we have yielded to-day, will revisit us to-morrow with more urgent solicitations. Self, having obtained the indulgence of one day, will plead hard for another. To make no more than one deviation from the straight path, is infinitely more difficult than not to deviate from it at all. " The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways." Perhaps the very circumstance of having a religious motive for study, may then be used by us as a cloak to hide our defection. 'All my pursuits are designed to fit me for engaging in God's service. I cannot therefore go very much out of the way of duty, by devoting to them a little more time than prudence might otherwise have dictated. My present diligence will one day be turned to account in the cause of religion; it cannot therefore be wholly misplaced. '• Thus, in the plenitude of self-indulgence, we can talk to our- selves about our zeal for the Lord of Hosts. Our conduct re- sembles that of the priests, who " offered polluted bread upon the altar, and then said, ' Wherein have we polluted thee?' " If we would offer any acceptable service to God, it must not be thus defiled with self. " Hath the Lord as great delight in" our worthiest pursuits, "as in obeying the voice of the Lord % n We are told that " to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." Our poor worthless attempts in the cause of our Redeemer can be of no value, but as they are accepted by God through his intercession. How foolish then to imagine that we can succeed, while we ne- glect thus offering them to God in frequent and faithful prayers ! If we will work in our own strength, we must expect MARY JANE GRAHAM. 41 to be left to such success as our own strength is able to ensure. ' Do you, upon serious reflection, perceive that you are now 3 T ielding in any way to this self-indulgent temper? Let me earnestly recommend a temporary cessation, if possible, from the employments that have ensnared you. A month, a week, in some cases even a day, rescued from your too fondly cher- ished occupations, and devoted to earnest prayer for future preservation and direction, may enable you to resume them without danger. But, as you value your peace and spiritu- ality of mind, beware of returning to them, till you experience so much sweetness in heavenly things, as to make the very best of earthly things appear trifling and insipid in the com- parison. The memory of Henry Martyn is sacred to every Christian student. The rule by which he regulated his lite- rary pursuits, deserves to be called the golden rule of study. Let us carry it into all the parts of human learning. It will strip them of every excessive and ensnaring attraction. ' So deep,' says his biographer, ' was his veneration for the word of God, that when a suspicion "arose in his mind, that any other book he might be studying was about to gain an undue influence over his mind, he instantly laid it aside; nor would he resume it, till he had felt and realized the paramount ex- cellence of the Divine oracles.' She adverts to what she had said above, as suggesting a safe-guard against some temptations of self-sufficiency and self-dependence. 'The only effectual remedy I have met with, is to consider human reason and spiritual teaching in one respect exactly in the same point of view: I mean, as both freely bestowed by God, to be increased, continued, or suspended, at his plea- sure. I would consider every little improvement in my stu- dies; the smallest extension of my intellectual powers; the least ray of light that shines in upon my natural reason, when engaged in the commonest earthly speculations ; all these I would consider as coming just as directly and absolutely from the Spirit of my God, as I do those sacred influences which inform and comfort my spiritual existence. Ceasing to look upon reason as our own, we should cease to lean upon it with a misplaced confidence. What we expect from it would be expected from the God to whom it belongs, not from our- selves, who have no right in it. The only way to preclude all glorying and trusting in our own things, is, to have nothing 42 MEMOIR OF of our own. Then, when all is God's, we can neither confide too much, nor expect too largely. Thus David acted. He said, " I will not trust in my bow, neither shall my sword save me." Did he therefore resign the use of the sword and of the bow? No: but he ascribed the strength which moved his arm in wielding them, to God ; " It is God that girdeth me with strength;" " He teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight." There is nothing so reasonable or so delight- ful as this unreserved ascription of all our intellectual powers to " # God our Maker, who teacheth us more than the beasts of the earth, and maketh us wiser than the fowls of heaven." He who thus realizes the property of God in his reasoning faculties, may without arrogance indulge in anticipation of their usefulness, which to a weaker faith, would seem the height of presumption. It is not that he esteems the instru- ment too highly; but that, viewing it as God's instrument, he can set no bounds to its efficiency. He does not imagine that his own arm can bring victory. But through God he knows he shall do valiantly. He enters deeply into the prophet's feelings; " I cannot speak, for I am a child." But the answer of the Lord is graven upon his memory ; " What- soever I command thee thou shalt speak." He is Teady to exclaim with Moses, " Who am I, that I should go upon the Lord's errand] I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue." But his diffidence vanishes before the firm assurance that God " will be with his mouth, and teach him what to say." To cultivate our reasoning powers with this absolute hope- lessness of their single efficacy, and these large expectations from them as instruments in the hand of God, is to bring a certain blessing upon all that we do with them. Hope nothing from yourself. Think nothing too great to hope from the bounty of your God. A firm adherence to this simple rule would enable you to bring your reason to the highest degree of perfection ; for God will honour those who thus honour him. " Cease then from your own wisdom." " Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not to your own un- derstanding." Sure I am that if your trust be thus in the Lord, he will teach you " excellent things in counsels and knowledge." You shall both "know the certainty of the words of truth," and be able to "answer the words of truth to them that send unto you." ' Again, * It is the perfection of intellectual enjoyment to receive reason entirely as the gift of our God, and every improvement of it, as a fresh token of MARY JANE GRAHAM. 43 his love. Every thing is good, must be good, if we view it in this light. How shall it not be good, if it comes directly from onr Father's hand 1 How shall it not be very good, if sanctioned by our Father's blessing? You know that " a gift is as a precious stone in the eyes of him that hath it; whither- soever it turneth, it prospereth." And then, " the blessing of the Lord, it maketh rich; and he addeth no sorrow with it." The poorest trifle becomes valuable, if it be the gift of love. But reason is itself a precious stone, a costly gem. When received as a gift it becomes a charmed stone, a talis- man to shield from harm, and to ensure prosperity. Only acknowledge all your earthly acquirements in this light, and you shall find, that, whichever way you turn them, success shall attend your endeavours. Regard every one of your mental faculties as given to you by creating love. Rejoice in the gift, because redeeming love has restored it to you with a seven-fold blessing. Here is a shield of love, if the shield of faith appear insufficient for your defence. For will not you earnestly guard against the abuse of a thing so given and so blessed?' Her encouragement and advice in the resistance of self-in- dulgent temptations is truly excellent. ' It is encouraging to reflect, that if " you are Christ's, all things are yours." Whatever talents he has given you are yours, freely to use and improve. They are also His ; therefore you may confidently expect, that he will get glory to himself out of them. And this, if I mistake not, is your wish. Your ac- quirements are of no value in your eyes, except as you can use them for Christ. Begin then and end all your studies with him. Seek to find communion with God in every one of them. " Do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, and to the glory of God." The curse which clings to the best of earthly things, and which once shed its baneful influence on all your intel- lectual faculties, is now taken away in Christ Jesus. Once perhaps your talents might have made you a splendid mis- chief, a brilliant pest to society. Now if you use them in faith, they shall be an instrument of healing and of blessing.' The following closing remarks place the balance between intellectual and Christian wisdom with admirable clearness and beauty. ' On the whole, in attempting to decide upon the true mer- its of human learning, my readers will not acquit me of the charge of inconsistency, unless they bear in mind the two- 44 MEMOIR OF t fold principle upon which my assertions are founded, and from which I hope I shall not appear to have deviated. On the one hand, I conceive that to enlarge and strengthen, to culti- vate and refine, to enrich and beautify the intellect, is of all the objects of mere earthly attainment, incomparably the most worthy. Viewing study in this light, I cannot but speak in its favour with some degree of liveliness and pas- sion, as one who has tasted, though very slightly, of the bene- fits which flow from it. On the other hand, when I compare this best of earthly things with the lowest and meanest of heavenly attainments, it sinks ineffably in my esteem ; no longer possessing any intrinsic worth, but valuable only from its subserviency to these higher objects. Considering it, therefore, in this point of view, I am exceedingly fearful of overrating its efficacy. T am led to speak of it with the cau- tion due to a pursuit, which is equally capable of becoming a singular blessing, or an extraordinary snare. Thus when I weigh intellectual cultivation in any earthly balance, I cannot but adjudge to it a decided superiority. But when I place it in the balance of the sanctuary, I perceive that it has no weight at all, but what it derives from the blessing of God on ac- companying circumstances. By affixing to human learning any independent value, we take from it that which it really has ; for though exceedingly useful as a submissive attendant upon divine knowledge, it can do us nothing but harm, if we permit its entrance as a dominating usurper. 'We should be less apt to set our hearts upon the pleasure of intellect, if we reflected how much they partake of the eva- nescent nature of all earthly enjoyments. When this little mo- ment which we call life is fled, of what use shall our studies be to us 1 Our enlarged faculties will then discern in an in- stant more than a thousand lives of intense application would now enable us to discern. Our earthly pursuits and attach- ments are among those " childish things, which we shall put away," when we arrive at man's estate. The very best and wisest of them are but the " summi amores puerorum, qui una cum praetextd ponentur." While, however, we are in this fleeting state of existence, we must not despise those tempo- rary delights and assistances, which the goodness of God has so wonderfully adapted to our imperfection ; nor need we fear to avail ourselves of them with due moderation, and in a sim- ple dependence upon God's blessing. But never let it be said of the Christian, that he is so much absorbed in " things MARY JANE GRAHAM. 45 temporal," as to neglect, for one moment, "the things which are eternal." ' The intrinsic excellence of these remarks render an apology for their introduction needless. The high and general im- portance of the subject, the full development of its true prin- ciples, the solid and expanded views, and, above all, the Christian wisdom, spiritual simplicity, and unction which pervade the discussion, will commend it to the profitable at- tention of every intelligent reader. The treatise itself (the writer here speaks from more competent judgment than his own) might probably be considered by men of science, as not formed upon the more approved system of mathematical study; and, though displaying much power and clearness of mind, is occasionally inaccurate in definition and illustration. The practical and excursive remarks (judging from the preceding extracts, and some others hereafter to be adduced) will how- ever be generally considered to possess no common value. The writer has been induced to extract so largely from this instructive manuscript, chiefly with a view to two impor- tant classes of persons in the present day. In this era of re- ligious excitement the minds of a large mass are at work, in- quiring, or rather speculating, in a feverish state of restless- ness and perplexity. Their feelings are interested, animated, and more or less intensely occupied with the engrossing sub- jects now brought before the church. Yet often — among the young especially — whether from defect of education or of mental cultivation, their judgments have little power of dis- crimination ; their principles are confined ; and their profess- ion mainly characterized by spiritual dissipation, which ex- poses them to the besetting snares of a disputatious temper, self-conceit, and self-delusion. To such we would strongly recommend the principles, obligations, and advantages of Christian study, which Miss Graham has so admirably laid out before them. The solid influence of these intellectual habits upon her own character, furnishes the most satisfactory illustration of their importance. So far from diverting her at- tention from the supreme concerns of eternity, they enabled her, through Divine teaching, the more steadily to concentrate her interest in habitual, enlivening, and practical contemplation. To Christian professors, whose habits and pleasures are found in the field of intellect, we cannot but observe, how much they may learn from this highly-gifted saint, of that " sim- plicity and godly sincerity," that careful inspection of mo- E 46 MEMOIR OF tives, that watchful subordination of natural indulgence to the supreme object of the glory of God, which can alone exclude the blast of Divine jealousy from these legitimate sources of enjoyment. All her views of science were received through a spiritual medium, and elevated her soul to the hallowed at- mosphere of communion with her God. The spirit of prayer was the constant guard upon her intellectual studies. Never did she enter upon the daily course of tuition with her young cousin without earnestly imploring the blessing of her heavenly Father. We have already seen a specimen of her spirit of supplication on this interesting subject, upon which it would be well for the student to meditate, till his heart becomes deeply imbued with its simple spirituality and enlargement. How delightful again is the pattern set forth in one of her let- ters ! Speaking of some perplexities relative to the pursuing of her studies, she adds — 'I am now resolved, God helping me, to give this week to prayer, presenting each of my stu- dies to Jesus, that he may prosper and sanctify it by his Spi- rit, take from it all self-love, and cause me in all my employ- ments, even in the least, to aim at his glory, and to labour in his name. Join with me in this prayer.' Not less instruc- tive is the practical spirit that pervaded her studies. Nothing was done for self-indulgence. Her pursuits were only val- uable in proportion as they were consecrated. In every thing, to her to live was Christ. Nothing besides seemed worthy the name of life. Nothing seemed to command her interest independent of this great object. To a correspondent, who had inquired her sentiments relative to the cultivation of her mind, she writes — 'I think it may be done, with a prayer however, and a resolution, that all that we do shall one day be employed in the service of Christ. I think the only thing is, never to lose sight of this great object. And to this end I know no other means than that of making it a subject of prayer. I have often been prevented from praying for suc- cess in study, because I thought it was better only to mention spiritual wants at the throne of grace. But I now think, that after having asked a blessing upon our common occupations, we are less likely to forget the end, which alone can enable us to follow them without danger. 1 Apart from this holy simplicity of principle, (which is the exclusive character of the Christian student,) » learning' — as Mr. Baxter tersely re- marks, — ' is but the pleasing of the fancy in the knowledge of unnecessary things.' Intellectual pleasures will be purchased MARY JANE GRAHAM. 47 at the fearful expense of the loss of heavenly communion with God. In the cultivation of this spirit, we shall be enabled to honour our God, and to receive his needful aid in literary as well as in religious pursuits. The solid advantages of study indeed will be safely enjoyed, and therefore will become a medium, by which the Divine glory will be displayed, and the presence of our God will be realized with a higher zest and a more abiding influence. But in returning to Miss Graham, we may add, that her studies were not confined to the severer branches of know- ledge. She had cultivated an acquaintance with the Roman classics with considerable success.* In the field of modern literature and taste, she was perfectly familiar with the French, Italian, and Spanish languages. For the first two, * To one of her correspondents she recommends the study of the Latin Grammar, as the means of a clear understanding of ' that no- ble language,' and of ' ennobling the intellect by the reading of the poets and historians of that language.' Two other advantages she notices — that of a more distinct and enlarged acquaintance with our own 'language, in great part deduced from the Latin,' and that of forming a good style, adding— ' that the English style of a person well-instructed in Latin acquires great richness and fei'tility from the number of classical and energetic words of which it is com- posed.' While however in her manuscript she points out the sub- stantial advantages of this instructive field of intellect, she does not fail to advert to the restriction, which sound Christian judgment is constrained to impose upon an indiscriminate indulgence. ' If,' she observes, ' we cultivate classie literature with a view only to increase our fund of critical knowledge, we shall miss many of the benefits which we might have derived from pursuing it with a more valuable and extensive design. The true ends of that fascinating study are to impart chasteness and elegance to the style, to enrich the mind with manly sentiments, beautiful images, and poetical associations.' She elsewhere recommends the cultivation of this field of literature as 'a corrective to' what she calls 'the cold and jejune expression, which marks the style of the. mere mathematician. I acknowledge,' she adds, 'the Christian objections that are urged, not without weight, against the study of the ancient authors. I am only advo- cating them under proper restrictions, and with due moderation. Thus guarded from abuse, let them walk hand in hand with the more abstruse sciences. Tbey will mutually aid and correct each other. A high degree of classic elegance is consistent with strong powers of sound argumentation. The combination forms a style of reasoning as pleasing as it is convincing. The simplicity of a mathematical style is thus kept from degenerating into poverty, and its cautious correctness is not permitted to stiffen into a frozen sterility.* 48 MEMOIR OF she had proper masters. The last she learnt from a Castilian, who was introduced to her father's house, in exchange for teaching him her own language. In order to improve herself in the knowledge of the languages, she made considerable use of them in mutual correspondence with her young friends. For the same purpose she translated Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield (a work not congenial to her taste, but selected as a good specimen of English style) into French, Latin, and Spanish, and commenced an Italian version. She made a similar use of Gil Bias, to perfect herself in the Spanish language for an important object, which will shortly be no- ticed at length. She appears, however, to have ultimately relinquished this work for a reason equally characteristic of her good sense and Christian simplicity, 'Should I become,' she writes to her correspondent, ' perfect mistress of the pleasing and pregnant style of Gil Bias (of which I intend to write at least two volumes,) it would be almost too light for the serious subject on which I wish to write.' In the same spirit the project even of these two volumes seem to have been quickly laid aside. The next week she writes to the same correspondent : ' I told you that I had begun to write Gil Bias very diligently. But yesterday I thought of the folly of thus employing myself about a work in which I wished Christ to do all. I am therefore determined to give the re- mainder of this week and the following to reading the Bible with prayer. The best English writers w r ere familiar to her, especially the standard works connected with the philosophy of the mind. She appears to have made herself thoroughly acquainted with the principles of Locke. She speaks in one of her letters of reading his important Essay on the Conduct of the Under- standing for the twentieth time with renewed interest, and recommends to her correspondent the study of this work with great earnestness, as the means of giving her an increased thirst for pursuits purely intellectual. Stewart was read with much improvement to herself. Butler's Analogy was also upon her first shelf. The following letter to her cousin gives a lively and intelligent view of her interest in these valuable writers. * Hastings, July 26, 1823. 1 1 am very glad that you like Butler ; I found, as you do, not only that he is humble himself, but that he inspires his MARY JANE GRAHAM. 49 readers with sentiments of humility. He shows them the littleness of human reason, and how weak it is where it will not submit to the light of revelation. I will tell you the good Stewart has done me. I have long- felt that all the ef- forts I have made to obtain true knowledge have been almost useless. Stewart has shown me the reason of this. It is because I have always allowed the greatest confusion in my ideas. I have never arranged them. He has shown me that my mind is like a large sack rilled with rubbish of all kinds, and where perhaps something that is useful may be found, but all is packed together in so confused a manner, that whosoever sought for it would be seeking a needle in a bundle of hay. I am almost in despair; however I am re- solved to make every effort to arrange a little better the confused mass, and I am more than ever convinced, that the only sure way of having the head filled with clear and well-defined ideas is to accustom oneself to put one's thoughts upon paper. I must tell you a resolution which I desire to execute : it is to write down from time to time all the new ideas and facts, whether original or acquired by reading or conversation, which I have gained. By doing this we should know the progress which our minds make ; and we should not forget, as we now do, the ideas which pass through the mind without making any impression, but which might be very useful if gathered together, and reserved to a proper occasion.' Her acquaintance with the Greek language only extended to the reading of the Greek Testament. The further progress in this department of literature was hindered by her applica- tion to other studies necessary for the superintendance of the education of her cousin. She was proposing to commence the study of Hebrew, but increasing indisposition precluded her from engaging in any new branch of study that excited her interest and exercised her habits of application. Miss Graham studied the theory of music with much at- tention, and wrote a short but correct development of its principles* for the use of a young cousin, then preparing for the situation of governess, and whom, as we have before hinted, she had in part educated for this important sphere with anxious pains and interest. Apart from this object, she would * A Letter to a young Piano Forte player. e 2 50 MEMOIR OP not probably have devoted so large a portion of her valua- ble time to this study, as it was a matter of frequent concern to her to observe the preponderance given to this elegant and fascinating science above the more solid and useful°ac- complishments. In some of her lively exercises of mind she took up the subject of Chemistry with great delight, making long extracts from the books which she had read, and going over every part till she thoroughly understood it. Without having any more definite object for this study, she felt that some absorb- ing occupation of this character was necessary to beguile the long and wearisome hours of sickness. For the same object Botany also attracted her attention. Thus with various and successive occupations her mind was always maintained in active, intelligent, and profitable exercise. A striking fea- ture of her character (one which entered into her recreations equally with her studies, and which formed the basis of her high mental superiority) was a total concentration of every power of thought and feeling, in the object of pursuit imme- diately before her.* Indeed, as her father observes, ' she followed Solomon's advice in every thing she undertook. " Whatsoever thine hand findeth to do, do it with thy might !" ' Her peculiar singleness of aim preserved her in the midst of her intellectual employments from the baneful influence of self-indulgence, and stimulated her to apply her literary pur- * One of her letters gives a graphical picture of this remarkable concentration of mind. Plymouth, May 10, 1825. ' When the fury of learning takes possession of me, I cannot think of any thing else. If I am seized with a fit for studying any parti- cular thing, 1 cannot give my mind to any other studies, however much I usually delight in them. I now wish to study Spanish and Music. But I am so carried away with my ancient mania for Mathematics, that, although my head aches, and I cannot think with- out inconvenience of any tiling, I am perpetually puzzling my brains to resolve questions which will never be of any use to me. It is said, that every thing is given for some good- I cannot imagine why I have been endued with this invincible propensity to a study, which is always diverting me from more useful aud feminine occupations.' This letter, it will be remarked, was written several years before her Treatise on Mathematical Study, and before the important in- tellectual and moral benefit of that study, which her Treatise so fully develops, had opened to her mind. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 51 suits to valuable practical purposes. Her great object in the study of the Spanish language, was to obtain a medium of communication with the Spanish refugees. The discovery of a strong tincture of infidelity among them, combined, with the recollection of her own fall, to excite a compassionate, earnest, and sympathizing concern on their behalf. The second part of ' The Test of Truth' opens with an exquisitely touching view of her feelings on this painful subject. Indeed the work contains the substance of her communications with some of those interesting but unhappy men. It was sent to them, with much and earnest prayer, upon the eve of their departure from England. She had intended to have translated some of the most striking extracts from Paley and other writers upon the Evidences of Christianity, and in one of her letters she men- tions having no less than eleven English volumes before her mind for this purpose. Finding, however, that Paley had been translated, she purchased the work, and sent it to her Spanish friends with her own. The following notices will give an interesting view of the exercises of her mind and faith, strongly called out towards these objects of her compassion, after she was removed from immediate intercourse with them. Sept. 8, 1825. ' As to my Spanish, we have been so busy about the schools, that I have not been able to do much. But I find a delightful confidence that this book, having been the suggestion of Christ, and belonging to him, and not to me, will be blessed by him. I have read one part of ' Las Ruinas,'* and in reading it I was struck with the reflection, that the best answer would be a continual reference to the word of God. I thought there- fore of placing my observations on the blank pages, and of filling the margin of the printed paper with references. I be- seech you to pray, that if I be not a fit instrument for the con- version of the souls of these poor Spanish exiles, the Holy Spirit would be pleased to raise up some other.' Miss Graham obtained a copy of the book, interleaved with blank paper for the insertion of her remarks. She did not however complete this task, thinking that the simple ar- * Volney's Ruins of Palmyra, translated into the Spanish— an in- fidel work of much authority with her Spanish friends. 52 MEMOIR OP gument of ' The Test of Truth' was better adapted for her purpose. April 9, 1827. I Last week my blessed Master gave me the power of writ- ing in his name to the poor Spaniards. I have written three sheets in English. But as I have not studied Spanish for a long time, I find myself in some difficulty, and must give this week to the language. Next week I hope to translate w T hat I have written, and to send it to you ; if you will oblige me by seeing it put into their hands. My faith in seeing them converted to God increases every day. At present, " the strong man armed keepeth his palace, and his goods are at peace." " But I have a confidence given me from hea- ven, that I shall see the " stronger than he," who will con- quer him, and " take from him all his armour wherein he trusted." I may not perhaps see this while I am here ; but I shall not rejoice the less, because I see it in heaven.' About a month afterwards, we find her mind deeply exer- cised upon this work of labour and love. May 5, 1827. I I wrote the Spanish book in the name of Jesus, and in the belief that he would give me a spirit and a wisdom, which by nature I do not possess. I had a strong faith in the promises of God to manifest himself in his own time to his own elect. But in the way of preparing to send it, my faith vanishes, and I have now only " an evil heart of unbelief."* To say to all the bones in the church-yard at Stoke, " O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord," — would almost seem to me easier than to say the same thing to souls dead in infidelity. How- ever, I feel that I have courage even for this, since " Jesus is the resurrection and the life," because all the glory will be to him alone; and because he has assured me, that having con- fided myself to him, my expectations can never be disappoint- ed.' * This book was ' The Test of Truth.' Her care and anxiety for them extended to their temporal as well as their spiritual distresses. As a token of affectionate sympathy, as well as some acknowledge- ment for valuable instruction received, she gladly appropriated the proceeds of her Musical Tract to the fund raised for their relief. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 53 The next letter was sent some months afterwards, with 4 The Test of Truth,' and ' Paley's Evidences.' Dec. 20, 1827. 'I send you Paley, which pleases me very much, with the letter, in which, without entering" upon any argument about the Evidences, &c. I have leant upon the simple proposition, that God having promised in the Scriptures to give his Spi- rit to whoever asks it with sincerity, must either keep his promise, or not be God ; and I have endeavoured to show them, that according to their own principles they are without excuse, if they neglect to seek their Creator in this manner. But if even now it do not succeed, it has been a blessing to me ; it has been the cause of many prayers, of many sweet moments of communion with Jesus. I cannot therefore but hope, that in the time and manner which please him, my prayers will be answered. I recommend these unhappy peo- ple to you. Pray for them often and fervently; possibly amongst them may be found some of those who were " cho- sen before the foundation of the world." ' In another letter formerly quoted, after having begged her friend to join with her in prayer for a blessing upon her stu- dies, she added in conclusion — ' And pray for me, that I may have something to say to those poor Spaniards, and that my love for them may not grow cold.' The full result of her prayers and " trials of faith" on be- half of her Spanish friends, is among the secrets which " the day will declare." Meanwhile, what Christian can fail to be invigorated by this exhibition of prayer, faith, self-denial, and patient hope in the work of our "Divine Master 1 Allusion has been already made to a disinterested project which she had formed of devoting herself to the work of tu- ition. To her cousin, she writes as if her heart was full of it — ' I think of it day and night. The opportunity of my ill- ness appears to me excellent for preparing myself for my plan, if the ability for putting it into execution should be grant- ed me? Her gracious Lord however was pleased to accept her in the desire, not in the performance of her work. Pro- tracted indisposition hindered her from giving any definite shape or execution to the plan, which only remains on record, as one among the many instances of the ceaseless activity with which her energies were employed in the service of her Redeemer, and of his Church. 54 MEMOIR OP It is natural to expect to see her a " fellow-worker with God," in the daily course of active devotedness. She was a constant visiter of the poor in the most miserable abodes, un- der circumstances trying to her delicate frame and tender spi- rit. For some time she took a daily and somewhat distant walk through an uninviting part of the city, to spend an hour with a dying young woman, whose case had deeply interested her, and to whom there is every reason to believe that she was found the blessed messenger of life and salvation. Her sympathy was much called out by the temporal wants of the poor. Much of her leisure time was employed in working for their benefit. A large chest of useful articles of clothing was constantly kept in her own room, while the opportunities of dis- tribution were always improved as means of spiritual instruc- tion to the objects of her consideration. Her Sabbaths were entirely devoted to the service of God. She became a teacher in the Christ Church Sunday School, and though she was often exhausted at the close of the day by the continued ex- citement of her exertions, yet she ever counted her toil in the work of Christ to be her highest privilege and delight. Upon her removal from London, the interest of her intel- lectual mind continued to be called forth in the employment of a village sphere. A deep and abiding constraint of re- deeming love regulated every mental effort. Though she diligently improved her retirement in adding to her already well-furnished storehouse ; yet she chiefly regarded it as the means of secretly recruiting her strength for the service of God. Hers was not the mind to repose luxuriously in ' the Castle of Indolence.' Hers was not the soul that could rest even in spiritual self-indulgence, insensible to the urgent calls of active duty. Even her delicate health was not suffered to preclude her from the self-denying exercise of Christian de- votedness. During the first summer of her country residence, she regularly attended at the parish workhouse at seven o'clock, to explain the Scriptures to the poor previous to the commencement of their daily labour. This however, like every other " labour of love," was an exercise of her faith and conflict with the great enemy. She mentions to her cou- sin the repugnance, which at one time she found to this work, and her yielding to the temptation of deferring it from day to day. Yet it was not long before she found the victory of feith overinertion; and gladly did she give the praise to Him, who enabled her to make a successful effort; 'I told them of MARY JANE GRAHAM. 55 my intention' she writes ' to go every morning to pray with them, and read the word of God. My Saviour removed every difficulty out of the way, and caused the women to receive me with the greatest civility.' The children of the parish were the objects of constant solicitude. She wrote a few simple addresses for their use. She drew out also questions upon the parables and miracles for the assistance of the Sunday School Teachers ; and, when prevented by indisposition from attending the school, she as- sembled the children at her own house for Scriptural instruc- tion. The young women also in the parish occupied a large share of her anxious interest; and, finding them unwilling to assemble at the same time and place with the children, she appropriated a separate evening for their instruction. She was, as might be supposed, a constant cottage visiter. The following beautiful extract from her mathematical manuscript will show the high and consecrated spirit with which she connected this humble ministration with her intellectual plea- sures. Warning her Christian student of the dangerous snare of self-complacency,* she inquires of him — 'Do you ever experience this proud internal consciousness of superior genius or learning? God has placed a ready an- tidote within your reach. The abode of learned leisure is seldom far from the humble dwelling of some unlettered * Her remarks upon self-complacency are so just and searching, that the writer is tempted to add them in a note. " Self-complacency is another of those temptations to which the student is peculiarly exposed. He may so far distrust his own heart, as to abstain from ' doing any thing through strife or vain glory. ' He may keep out of the way of human praise. And yet there may be an inward complacency, a proud consciousness of superiority, equally destructive to his growth in grace. He ' thinks of himself more highly than he ought to think.' He courts not the breath of applause: but he drinks in the intoxicating vapour of self-gratulation and es- teem. There are some men, in whom pride stifles the impulses of vanity. If they seem to care little what others think of them, it is because they think so well of themselves. Their own opinion needs no confirmation. Their solitary plaudit is so abundantly satisfac- tory, that the buzz of admiring multitudes would be a superfluous addition. Can any thing like this be found in the disciple of Jesus ? Yes — for the law r of sin still dwells in his members. Neither this sin, nor any other, shall be permitted to have dominion. (Rom. vi. 14.) But its assaults will sometimes vex and discompose him. He will be tempted, according to the natural bent of his character,' to seek the applause of others, or to rest in his own. 5G MEMOIR OF Christian. Thither let your steps be directed. " Take sweet counsel with your poor uneducated brother." There you will find the man whom our " King delighteth to honour." His mean chamber, graced with one well-worn book, is as " the house of God, and the very gate of heaven." Observe how far the simplicity of his faith, and the fervour of his love, ex- ceed any tiling you can find in your own experience, cankered as it is with intellectual pride. God has taught him many lessons, of which all your learning has left you ignorant. Make him your instructor in spiritual things. He is a stran- ger to the names of your favourite poets and orators. But he is very familiar with " the sweet psalmist of Israel." He can give you rich portions of the eloquence of one, who " spake as never man spake." He can neither " tell you the number of the stars, nor call them all by their names." But he will discourse excellently concerning " the star of Bethlehem." He is unable to attempt the solution of a difficult problem. But he can enter into some of those deep things of God's law, which, to an unhumbled heart, are dark and mysterious. He will not talk to you '-in the words which man's wisdom teacheth ;" but oh ! what sweet and simple expressions of divine love are those "which the Holy Ghost has taught him !" He " knows nothing but Christ crucified ;" but this is the ex- cellent knowledge, to which all other knowledge is foolish- ness. He has " the fear of the Lord ; that is wisdom. He departs from evil ; that is understanding." When your soul is refreshed by this simple and lowly communion with one of the meanest of God's saints, return to your learned retire- ment. Look over your intellectual possessions. Choose out the brightest jewel in your literary cabinet. Place it by the side of " the meek and quiet spirit" of this obscure Christian. Determine which is the " ornament of greater price." Com- pare the boasted treasures of your mind with the spiritual riches of your illiterate brother. Run over the whole cata- logue. Let not one be omitted; the depth of your under- standing, the strength of your reasonings, the brilliancy of your fancy ; the fire of your eloquence. Be proud of them. Glory in them. You cannot. They dwindle into insignifi- cance. They appear to you " as a drop of a bucket, as the small dust of the balance." ' The following letter gives a beautiful illustration of the truly Christian spirit with which she inculcated upon her friends the responsibility of persevering effort in the,work of God: MARY JANE GRAHAM. 57 Stoke, August 4, 1825. 'I think that visiting the poor is an excellent help to spir- ituality of mind, because it shows us our own weakness, when we lose sight for a moment of the strength of Christ. It also brings to light many secret corruptions, of which we were before ignorant. I am very anxious to hear about the Infant School. Do not be discouraged by the cold answers of . Rather pray for them, that more faith may be given to them, and a spirit of love for the souls that are perishing around them. Such a prayer offered in faith by one Christian for another will bring down a blessing upon both. I am very sorry that I was angry with , instead of praying for her. I do not think that Christians pray enough for each other. Perhaps the Lord is proving your faith and love by making you wait in this cause. If it be so, do not doubt his power to carry you through all you undertake in his name. From the mouth of the children for whom you are interested, he will cause his praises to be sounded. Do " not" then, " be weary in well-doing." If you have not already begun, let me advise you not to begin, till you have given a special time to the scriptures and to prayer. I desire all our undertakings to be " sanctified by the word of God and prayer." ' Then refer- ring to her own intention of setting apart the next week for spiritual exercises in reference to her Spanish communica- tions— she adds—' I thought perhaps that you would give next week to these things, and that it would be delightful to me to remember, that we were both thus employed at the same time. But if you cannot do this, pray at the time fixed by us, that I may have grace and faith to pass these days in dedicating myself to this work, and that we may both of us in all that we do be delivered from a self-seeking spirit, and may take every step with our eyes fixed upon the cross of Jesus. I am afraid of annoying you by this mode of speak- ing of these things. But if you knew how full my heart is oftenderness, while I write, you would pardon the importu- nity, with which I beseech you to give yourself entirely and without reserve into the hands of Christ. He can give you from the treasures of his grace all the zeal, love, and warmth which you need. All is ours already by virtue of his blood. Let us make use of it. Let us. go to him in holy boldness, and ask for all the grace which he is so ready to give. — Psalm lxxxi. 10.' F 5 3 MEMOIR, &C. The pressure, however, of increasing illness constrained her to relinquish her own habits of personal activity for some time previous to her death. It was her appointed dispensa- tion rather to suffer, than to do, her heavenly Father's will ; while her solitary hours were cheered by the contemplation of the glorious prospects opening now upon her view — " look- ing for the mercy of her Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."" CHAPTER IV. Further Extracts from her Writings and Correspondence. It is not to be expected, that the quiet tenor of Miss Gra- ham's habits in a retired village could furnish much variety of incident or detail. We shall, however, abundantly com- pensate for this deficiency by a more full exhibition of her fine, powerful and spiritual mind, as illustrated in her wri- tings and correspondence. But this department of our work is too large to be compre- hended in one mass. We will therefore set it forth in several distinct divisions, and give her sentiments upon the funda- mental doctrines of the Gospel ; upon subjects of interesting theological discussion; upon some points of moment con- nected with Christian experience and profession; and upon miscellaneous subjects. I. Her views of the great doctrines of the Gospel. Her apprehensions and statements of the grand funda- mentals of the Christian faith, were eminently Scriptural. On the humbling doctrine of original sin, she justly remarks in a posthumous work : ' It is the very first lesson in the school of Christ: and it is only by being well rooted and grounded in these first principles, that we can hope to go on to perfection. The doctrine is written in Scripture as with a sunbeam. If we do not feel some conviction of it in our own hearts, it affords a sad proof that we still belong to that " generation that are pure in their own eyes, and yet is not washed from their filthiness." ' After adducing some of the most convincing Scriptural evidence, she proceeds forcibly to illustrate the subject by the case of infants. 60 MEMOIR OF 1 Would we know the reason of this indelible pollution, which fallen man has transmitted to his latest descendants ? let that given by Scripture suffice : " Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? not one." But is not the new-born babe innocent'? yes, from the commission of actual sin; but not from the pollution of a nature altogether sinful : for " who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean?" " Death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." Why then is death so often commissioned to snatch away the babe in the first hour of its existence? why, but because that babe is a sinful creature ? Sin, that root of bitterness, has already shot its fibres into the inmost soul. That infant "born of the flesh, is flesh;" and "as such cannot please God" — cannot bring forth any other than the accursed fruits of the flesh. As surely as the cockatrice's egg will hatch into a viper, so surely will the babe born of unclean parents be itself un- clean ; so surely it will be " by nature a child of wrath, even as others." And therefore it is as the Apostle tells us, that " Death reigneth over all, even over them that have not sinned after the similitude of Adam's transgression.''' I entertain not a doubt that these little ones are redeemed by the blood of Jesus : but that they need redemption, that they are sinners, " children of wrath by nature ;" of this truth I am equally well assured ; and every little mound in the churchyard seems to have a voice that tells me so.' Then, after citing our Church's recognition of this doctrine in the Ordinance of Infant Baptism, she returns to her Scrip- tural ground of argument. * The Holy Ghost has instructed the Apostle to give us such a full comment upon the spiritual death we all die in Adam, that we cannot too often read and pray over the follow- ing passages, Rom. v. 12, 21. 1 Cor. xv. 21, 22, 45, 49. Eph. iv. 22, 24. Col. iii. 9, 10. There are many others, in which our nature in Adam is spoken of, in contradistinc- tion to the new and holy nature we receive in Christ Jesus. So essential is a right understanding of this truth, that until we receive it, many of the most beautiful parts of the Church service must appear just as unintelligible to us as if they were written in an unknown language. Nay, worse than unintelligible; they must seem extremely foolish and ridicu- lous. How absurd (to an understanding not convinced of the original defilement of our nature) must it appear to talk of remitting an infant's sins ; of causing the old Adam to be MARY JANE GRAHAM. " 61 buried, and his carnal affections to die in him ; while all the time the hearer thinks that the infant as yet has no sins, no carnal affections; while the very existence of the old Adam or original sin is doubted by him !' The second records of Christian experience furnish full con- firmation of her humiliating statement. 'Oh! what an unmeaning heap of words,' she exclaims, 1 has been handed down to us in the law of Moses, the Psalms of David, the confessions of Ezra, Nehemiah, Job, Daniel, Jeremiah and the rest of God's saints, if that evil nature which caused them to groan did not really exist! Above all, what shall we make of Romans iii. and vii. % What shall we understand by the conflict between the flesh and the Spirit, between the old man and the new man, between the carnal and spiritual affections 1 Was St. Paul dreaming, when he said, " I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing]" Was he beside himself, when he declared, " that he found in himself a law, that when he would do good, evil was present with him?" that, though by Divine grace he had learnt "to delight in the law of God after the inward man, yet still he saw another law in his members, warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin which was in his members ?" The apostle of the Gentiles, " who laboured more abundantly than they all ;" he, who " had been caught up to the third heaven, and heard unspeakable words which it was not lawful for him to utter" amongst sinful men ; he, who " counted all things but dung, that he might win Christ;" he, who was "ready, not only to be bound, but also to die for the name of the Lord Jesus ;" this chosen vessel of mercy, full of zeal and full of love, and under the immediate inspiration of the Holy Ghost, so groaned under the burden of the original cor- ruption of his nature, " the law of sin warring in his mem- bers," that he was compelled to cry out, " O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death]" And from the time of Paul there has never been a real Chris- tian, who has not often felt himself constrained to adopt his language, and to say in the anguish of his soul, " W T ho shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" The remedy, as is usual in Scripture, follows close upon the complaint : " I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord." ' From her mathematical manuscript we extract the follow- ing method of proof of the total depravity of man. In speaking f 2 62 memoir or of the three modes of demonstration, Inference, Coincidence, and Redudio ad absurdum, she thus applies the last mode to the subject alluded to: "If man be not utterly depraved, he must be in one of these two states, either perfectly good, without any mixture of sin ; or good, with some admixture of evil and imperfection. The first of these suppositions car- ries its own absurdity upon the face of it. The second is plausible, and more generally received. Yet it is not diffi- cult to prove, that if man had any remaining good in him, that is, towards God, he could not possibly be the creature that he now is. There could not be that carelessness about his eternal welfare, that deadness to spiritual things, which we perceive in every individual, whose heart has not been renewed by Divine grace. Man would not love pleasure more than God. He would not prefer " the things which are seen and temporal" to "the things that are not seen and eternal." He would not trifle with sin. He would not sneer at holi- ness. He would not habitually neglect to pray. 'All these things are utterly incompatible with the hy- pothesis, that man is only partially fallen from God. The very least spark of innate godliness would imply a restless dissatisfaction in what is evil ; an importunate longing to be freed from it. The man in whom such a spark of good- ness existed would breathe after lost communion with his Maker. He would prefer God's will and pleasure to his own. " The honour that cometh from God only" would be dearer to him than the most splendid tribute of human ap- plause. Is any thing like this to be found in man before his reception of Divine grace ? No. He " lives without God in the world :" chooses his own will and pleasure, and seeks his own glory. He is utterly selfish; therefore he is utterly fallen. 4 We find then that the doctrine of man's partial depravity in- volves absurd consequences. It leads to conclusions which are wholly at variance with fact. These reflections bring us back to the Scripture statement. We admit that the heart of man may yet be the seat of many noble and tender affections towards his fellow-men. But in regard to God, we declare his affections to be alienated, his understanding darkened, his will depraved. "There is none that understandeth ; there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone aside ; they are altogether become filthy ; there is none that doeth good, no, not one." ' MARY JANE GRAHAM. 63 The utter helplessness of man she adduces with great clear- ness and power to prove, that the work of grace, from its earliest commencement to its final consummation, is " all of God." * Grace will be given' — she observes — «* to all who dili- gently seek for it. But, if we attend to the Scripture account of every man, woman, and child by nature, we shall find that this seeking also is the effect following upon grace received; not the cause producing it. By this I mean to say, that the very act of seeking grace proves that we have received grace already ; and that the very ability to seek, is itself the free gift of God's sovereign grace. If "every thought of man's heart is evil, and that continually" surely it is not out of that heart that the first desire of any good thing can spring. If, by nature, " there is none that seeketh after God" whence can the first attempt to seek him arise, but from free grace draw- ing us contrary to nature 1 Freely must grace be given to enable us to seek at first; and freely must it be continued, to enable us to go on seeking. I know that none shall seek the Lord in vain ; none who come shall be cast out ; none who be- lieve shall come short of everlasting life; none who choose the better part shall have it taken from them; but then none can seek the Lord, unless he first seek them. None can come, except it be given him of the Father ; — none can believe, save as many as are orduined to eternal life ; none can choose Christ, except he first choose them. If again we consider the magnitude of the change which must take place in every sinner's heart be- fore he can truly and earnestly seek God, we shall be con- vinced that no part of it is properly his own. He must " be born again ;" must " become a new creature ; old things must pass away, all things must become new;" he must "pass from death unto life ;" " from darkness to light — from the power of Satan unto God ;" — " from going about to establish his own righteousness, to submit himself to the righteousness of God ;" and this, to a proud carnal heart, is the most diffi- cult of all. And who is sufficient for these things? Who but He, that first formed us in the womb, can cause us to be born again of the Spirit 1." Who but He, that originally cre- ated us, is able to " create us anew in Christ Jesus V Who but the giver of natural life can give spiritual life ; " and quicken those that were dead in trespasses and sins ?" », * When the Lord of life stood by the grave of Lazarus, and said — " Lazarus, come forth ; and he that was dead instantly 64 MEMOIR OF came forth ;" who would say, that this act of lifting himself up was the cause of his coming to life ; and not rather, that his coming to life was the cause of his being able to lift him- self up 1 It is thus, when Jesus by his word and Spirit says to the heart of a sinner — " Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." In- stantly that dead soul arises, and its first act is seeking, or prayer ; but this same act of seeking is the effect of spiritual life, not the cause. We pray because we are alive, not that we may live. We cannot quicken ourselves when dead in sin, any more than we can bring a dead body to life. But when Jesus has quickened us, we shall as surely perform all those actions, which demonstrate the soul to be spiritually alive, as a dead body when raised by divine power, will surely per- form all the functions of a living person. Grace, great grace, must be infused, to enable us to seek at all ; and he who first gave grace to seek, will give more grace in answer to that seeking, thus fulfilling that precious Scripture, which saith — "To him that hath, shall be given." We neither be- gin nor carry on the work of grace in our own hearts. " Jesus is the author and finisher" the Alpha and Omega "of our faith." From the first spark of grace that faintly glimmers upon us here, to the full blaze of glory which shall burst upon us in heaven ; all, all is his doing ; it is he that made us alive (spiritually,) not we ourselves. It is God who both begins the good work in us, and also will " perform it unto the day of Jesus Christ." ' Then after having confirmed her statement by the strong and unequivocal language of the Church, she proceeds to exhibit in connexion with it, the perfect frceness of Divine grace. 1 It is absolutely necessary to a clear and full view of this doctrine, that we ascribe to the free, sovereign and unmerited grace of God, the first desire after him that ever arose in our hearts, as well as the fulfilling of that desire when expressed in prayer. W T e must be convinced that nothing in the work of salvation is our own, but only the gift of God's love to us in Christ Jesus. Christ died for us when we were enemies. The benefits of his death are applied to us, for the purpose of reconciling us, not in consequence of our making any ad- vances towards being reconciled. He " died for the ungodly," for those " who were without strength," without strength to come to him ; without strength to form so much as a MARY JANE GRAHAM. 65 wish to come to Him. The desire to come is given for his sake •• the ability to come is given for his sake .•' the acceptance on coming is an acceptance for the beloved sake of this beloved Saviour, " without whom we can do nothing." Those who say — ' Grace will be given if we ask ; but then asking must precede or procure the given grace' — are in effect robbing God of much of the glory due unto his name. For the power and the inclination to ask are of themselves a part of the free gift of God's grace to us in Christ Jesus. They are the beginning of God's work in the heart; and to say, that we begin this work, is no other than to say that we can create ourselves anew in Christ Jesus. I will venture to affirm, that if God waited to give us his grace till we asked him for it of our own accord, we should go without it to all eternity. ' The great source of error on this head, even amongst seri- ous people, is, that they cannot bring themselves to think they have nothing of their own in the work of salvation. Therefore it is, that, when constrained to acknowledge that the grace given them when they seek, is from God only ; their self-righteousness betakes itself to another strong hold; and we find them laying claim to their asking and seeking, as if that at least was the effort of their own will, the spontaneous act of their own power. This is just as if one should take a dead person by the hand, breathe life into him, and lift him up upon his feet; and that person should make a show of acknowledgment to his benefactor, by allowing to that benefactor the praise of lifting him up after he was alive, and keeping him alive ever since, and yet should maintain, that the first breath of all came into him by his own spontaneous act, by the effort of his own unassisted power. The absurd- ity of such an assertion with regard to temporal life, would strike us at once ; but we are not so struck with it in refer- ence to spiritual life ; and the reason is this, — when we speak of a corpse, we know what we speak about, — there it lies be- fore our eyes, incapable of breathing, moving, speaking. We perfectly know what we mean, when we say that a dead body cannot raise itself to life. But when we speak of a soul " dead in trespasses and sins," we too often use the phrase, merely because we find it in the Scriptures, without the slightest conception of the awful reality expressed by it. Nor is it till we have ourselves in some measure "passed from death unto life," that we begin to perceive the dreadful and close analo- gy which really exists between the two states of natural and 66 memoir or spiritual death. If God were to come to an unconverted per- son with the question — not — "Can these dry bones" — but Can these dead souls — "live !" he would be apt to reply — Why not? What should hinder them from raising them- selves up, and breathing the breath of spiritual life 1 But when God has quickened us from our own death in tres- passes and sins, our eyes are opened to see what spiritual death really is, and then we learn with trembling awe to reply, " Lord, thou knowest." This is thy work. It is thou that must make us alive, and not we ourselves. ' Since then men are universally disposed to " go about establishing their own righteousness," how carefully ought we to close up every avenue through which this besetting sin might gain admittance, and rob us of our peace, by lead- ing us to rob Christ of his praise ! Many are the windings of our own treacherous hearts ; many are the devices of Sa- tan, by which he would tempt us to ascribe to our own strength what God has done for us of his mere mercy. Nor let us think that a mistake here can be of trifling importance. God is very jealous for his great name ; and he has declared, that " if we will not lay it to heart, to give glory to his name, he will send a curse upon us, and will even curse our bless- ings." Many and glorious are the crowns which adorn the sa- cred head of Immanuel ; let us not try to pluck thence the bright- est and fairest of them all, for well does it become this King of kings. When we reach heaven, and receive the crown of glory, we shall be ready enough to cast that at his feet, and to say, Thou only art worthy. Let us do the same with the crown of grace here ; for surely we have as little right to ar- rogate the one to ourselves as the other.' These Scriptural statements of man's total corruption are well connected with the calls of the Gospel; not as implying man's natural free-will and power to turn to God ; but as dis- playing the riches of Divine grace, as stamping the mark of guilt upon the moral inability of the sinner, and setting forth the means by which the Lord accomplishes the purposes of his everlasting love. In the valley of dry bones, to which Miss Graham has just alluded, the prophet was commanded to'" call the things that be not, as though they were." The almighty power of God gave effect to the feeble voice of his servant. He fails not to manifest the same Divine power in the resurrection of souls under the ministration of his Gospel ; while the sovereignty of his grace is not less apparent in " quickening whom he will." MARY JANE GRAHAM. 67 Perhaps, however, Miss Graham may be considered some- what defective in an exhibition of the free invitations of the Gospel. Many exclusive writers* deem it unnecessary to ad- dress the language of pleading love and urgent remonstrance, where the want of inclination opposes a moral barrier to its success. But this is to obscure the riches of the grace of God by the narrow and perverted reasoning of man. Our Lord's personal ministry was in no way restrained by his perfect knowledge of the Divine purpose or of human inability. Though the objects of electing love were individually known to him, yet his gracious offers were as general, as if no coun- sel had been fixed in the eternal mind, or as if he were unac- quainted with its restricted object and end. Though he most decisively declared man's total inability to come to him irrespective of the sovereign application of Almighty power ; yet " his bands of love" were " the cords of a man ;" suited to " draw" him as a rational and responsible creature. The freeness of Divine mercy, not the secret decree of the Divine will, was the ground and rule of his patient procedure. He spoke the glad tidings to the unbelieving Jews, " that they might he saved" He complains of them most tenderly, that " they would not come to him, that they might have life.'''' He connected his declaration of the purpose of God with a full and faithful invitation to sinners. He offered himself inde- finitely to large and mixed assemblies as the provision for the salvation of the whole world. He extended the commission of his Gospel "to every creature" and closed the special reve- lation of the future history of the church, with the same wide- ly-extended embrace of inestimable mercy. Where then is the sinner that is excluded from the responsibility of believing the testimony % Or where is he that is shut out from the en- couragement of its free and large invitations 1 Turning from Miss Graham's writings to her correspond- ence, we find her views of the Gospel to be equally clear and encouraging. The following letter gives a distinct view of the ground of our acceptance with God : * Miss Graham, however, must not be confounded with writers of this class. If there was an omission in her statements, there was no defect in her system. Her private correspondence abounds with the most fervid appeals to the unconverted, and the most unrestricted offers of the Gospel. Seethe letters in Chapter V. adduced as illus- trative of her * compassionate concern for the unconverted.'' 68 MEMOIR OF February 15, 1828. « Dearest . Join with me in admiring the mercy of our God. " For if when vje were enemies we were reconciled unto God by the death of his Son, much more being reconciled, •we shall be saved by His Life." "If we confess our sins, God is" — not merciful and compassionate, but, " faithful and just to forgive us our sins." For since " Christ once suffer- ed, the just for the unjust;" since He " bore our sins in his own body on the tree ;" if we believe on Him, and lay hold on his salvation, justice itself cannot but acquit us. It cannot be, that Jesus should lay down His life, and that then God should require ours. It cannot be, that, when Jesus has paid the dreadful debt to the very uttermost farthing, we should be called upon to pay it once again. No. As God is a faith- ful God, He must fulfil the promises He has made, that not one of all those who come to Him through Jesus, shall ever perish. As He is a just God, He will not punish us and our Surety too ; will not demand a twice-told reckoning. If in- deed the atonement of Jesus were not perfect ; if He had not suffered all, not paid all, we might tremble. But Almighty Justice declared itself satisfied, when our Surety was released from the prison of the tomb, when he sat down on the right hand of God, and took possession in our name of the inherit- ance He had purchased for us; and therefore it is said, that He " was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our justification." By His death He laid down the price of our salvation ; by His rising again He declared that the price was accepted, the salvation complete. And this seems to me the great display of God's wisdom in the cross of Christ, that the Just should be able to justify the ungodly without devia- ting one tittle from His justice ; " that He should be just, and yet the Justifier of him which believeth on Jesus." ' We extract an illustration of this subject from her manu- script, equally beautiful and just. In defining the principle of analysis to be, taking to pieces a train of argument, and ex- amining the soundness of its component parts, she gives the following Scriptural example, ' " Christ crucified, the wisdom of God, and the power of God." ' (1 Cor. i. 23, 24.) What an overwhelming multitude of reflections crowd upon the se- rious mind at the bare mention of these words ! But in proving the doctrine to unbelievers, how many concurrent circum- stances must be separately and distinctly unfolded.' It is alleged to be incompatible both with " the wisdom and power MARY JANE GRAHAM. G9 of God," that he should be constrained to glorify one of his attributes at the expense of another. We must therefore con- sider each attribute apart from the rest, and show how each is glorified in the doctrine of the cross. Each part of the argu- ment must be unfolded. Each link of the wondrous chain, must be distinctly separated. We may offer them succes- sively to the unbeliever, and challenge his strictest scrutiny to detect a single break. If only one link be imperfect, the whole chain must give way. All the hopes which hang upon it must perish. But the more closely we examine it, the more complete will be our satisfaction. I have adduced this doctrine in illustration of my meaning, because I know of none which involves a greater number of considerations. In Maclaurin's sermon on the Glory of the Cross, we have a most perfect specimen of this kind of analysis.' But we find these two things inseparably united in Scrip- ture, holiness and salvation, as I saw it well expressed in some little work I was reading the other day : 'No salvation by works ; and yet no salvation without works.' " Christ hath God exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repent- ance and remission of sins." If then we follow and obey Him not as our Prince, He is as yet no Saviour to us. If He had not given us repentance, we must not suppose that he has given us remission. But, dear , let us bear in mind, that both are gifts. Repentance is as much a gift, and as little a merit, as pardon. I fear I have been very tedious ; but the subject has led me farther than I intended. We are sinners seeking a common Saviour ; and therefore I trust that nothing we can say of Him, can be wearisome.' The practical view of this statement is more fully develop- ed in a subsequent letter to the same correspondent ; one of the last she ever wrote : September, 1830. 4 Far from thinking it presumption to write as you have done, my dear friend, I think we ought not to be ashamed of owning what God has done for our souls. We know that it is solely "by the grace of God," His free, unmerited favour, that we " are what we are ;" and that in our lips, and above all, in our lives, we are bound to show, that " the grace of God was not bestowed upon us in vain." * Dear , it has indeed pleased God to " call us to His G 70 MEMOIR OF kingdom and glory;" let us (in His strength) " walk worthy of the high vocation wherewith we are called." M Let us ex- hort one another daily, while it is called to-day ; let us pro- voke one another to love and good works;" and above all, let us pray for one another, and that fervently and unceasingly. We have need not only to pray, but to " watch unto prayer „•" for it is only as long as we maintain this watchful spirit, that we can hope to enjoy any of the comforts of religion. Let me intreat you, not as one whose freedom from these sins gives her a right to exhort others ; but as one who has herself felt by mournful experience what " an evil and bitter thing it is" to depart from the God of our salvation ; as a backslider, whose backslidings have been healed by the inexpressible mercy of a long-suffering God ; let me most earnestly and af- fectionately entreat you to guard against the least declension from holiness ; the least relaxation in that close and humble walking with God, which alone can keep you peaceful and happy. Works cannot justify us before God; but we are said to be justified by works in one part of Scripture; that is, they are the only evidence of our justification that we can offer to our fellow-creatures. " Ye shall know them by their fruits." And what are " the fruits of the Spirit]" Forgive me, if I record them here. The description is so lovely, that we can- not remind one another of it too often: " The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance ; against such there is no law. And they that are Christ's, have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts." Let us examine ourselves by this, dearest . Let us see whether we bring forth this fruit, and whether we " bring forth much fruit, so shall we be His disciples." My course is perhaps almost ended. I have rea- son to hope, that it will not be very long, ere I enter into that rest which Jesus has purchased for me with His blood. Oh ! that I had walked more to His glory, " who loved me, and gave Himself for me !" But your course (as a Christian) is but lately begun, and may, if the Lord please, be continued for many years. O then let it be indeed " the path of the just, which is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." " Be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in faith, in purity. Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. Be clothed with humility ;" for as you are of an humble and "contrite spirit, and tremble at God's word," so will "the MARY JANE GRAHAM. 71 High and Lofty One who inhabiteth eternity," delight to dwell in your heart, to bless you with His refreshing- and sanctify- ing presence. And now, dearest , " may the very God of peace sanctify you wholly ; and I pray God, your whole body, and soul, and spirit, be preserved blameless unto the coming of Jesus Christ." To Him may we with one heart and voice, give glory both now and for evermore ! Amen.' The following letter, however, carefully separates the fruit of faith from any ground of dependence. The application of the subject for Christian consolation will be interesting. Stoke, Feb. 2\, 1827. ' The chapter you mention, (Matt, xxv.) is particularly de- lightful as holding out a lovely picture of the people of Christ. But let us mark, that it is not the action, but the motive, which meets with such high commendation. It is not said — Ye fed the hungry, gave drink to the thirsty, &c, but "I was hun- gry, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink ; inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these, ye did it unto me." And this appears to be the grand differ- ence between Christians and worldly people. The Christian does every thing as unto Christ — in His name, in His strength, and to His glory. The worldling may, and often does, out of natural benevolence or ostentation, feed the hungry, or clothe the naked ; but he does it not unto Jesus, but to please him- self, to gratify natural feeling, to appear well in the sight of others, to gain a stock of merit enough to buy heaven, or at least to help out what may be wanting in the merit of Christ. These are his best motives : Talk to him of doing good works, because you are saved, and not that you may be saved; and you are talking of a thing which never entered his nar- row heart, and which never will enter it, till it is enlarged by the grace of Christ. But let us beg of God, to give us this motive, and right actions will naturally follow. It will, as some one expresses it, ' like the spring of a watch, soon set all the wheels of our souls a-going.' I cannot leave this chapter without sharing with you the comfort I have derived from it in another point of view. Does Jesus say — ' I was hungry, and ye gave me meatl' &c. Is He then hungry, when we are hungry 1 Does He faint, when we are thirsty, and languish, when we are "_sick and in prison." And think you, He will not much more sympathize with our spiritual 72 MEMOIR OP necessities. When we hunger for the bread of life, and thirst for living water ; when we are sensible that our guilty souls stand " naked" before him ; when we feel ourselves " sick" of that worst disease, sin ; and in bondage to Satan, that most hard master, will not He then sympatluze with us 1 And his pity will not be a vain empty pity. He will not only sympathize, but relieve. He will feed, and nourish, and clothe, and heal, and deliver us. Nor will he be content with this. But the same pity he feels for us, he will teach us to feel for others ; so that we shall be such characters as He describes the "blessed of the Father" to be. Only let us trust Him for all this, and continually importune him for it ; for his promises are all addressed to those who trust, and ask, and seek, and knock.' The freeness and fulness of the gospel are delightfully ap- plied, to counteract the subtle influence of self-righteousness. September 28, 1825. 1 You tell me, my beloved friend, that you have lately suf- fered worldly thoughts to engross too much of your time, and that you have found little comfort in prayer. "Will you let me tell you what seems to me to be the cause of this ; at least as far as I can judge from my own experience'? 1 You want a more simple and entire dependence on what Christ has done for you ; and will do in you : you want to be doing something yourself, when He has done all ; you would repent and pray earnestly ; and then you think Christ would forgive you. I do not know whether I am right with regard to your feelings ; but this at least has sometimes been my own case ; but in fact, my dear , it was for sinners who cannot repent, who cannot pray, that the Saviour came to die. Repentance is His gift— His free gift — as well as pardon ; and it is only when we are willing to come to Him — poor, empty, and miserable as we are — that He delights in "filling us with good things." I think I have not clearly explained myself; but I will try to give you an instance of what I mean. 4 1 used to be often doubting whether I was one of Christ's people or not. Now this one text satisfied all my doubts. — "All that the Father giveth me shall come to me ; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out." From this it seems there is but one question — 'Am I willing to come to Christ]' If so, then I am one of those whom "the Father MAR!" JANE GRAHAM. 73 hath given Him;" if so, then will he never, never cast me out; and if so, then is God the Father, then is God the Son, engaged by an immutable promise, by unchangeable faithful- ness, to bring me — a feeble worm of the earth — a sinner by nature and practice — yes, even to bring me safe home to glory. Am I willing? O my dear friend, I doubt not your heart is answering to mine ; Yes, Lord, thou knowest that I am willing to come unto thee. " To whom should I go !*? for there is "none in Heaven or in earth that I desire beside thee!" Again, with regard to the love of the world, — that freat enemy to the Christian life — I used to think, how shall overcome it? Now, I look simply to Jesus, who has said " Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." He has overcome it for us, and will overcome it in us. For how can we love that world, which crucified our Lord and Saviour. How can we give way to that " love of the world," which will deprive us of "the love of the Father?" Believe me, my dear , there is not a sin, however deeply rooted in the heart, from which we may not be delivered by simply lookino- to Jesus, and pleading with him his precious promises. To this end, "let the word of Christ dwell richly in us with all wisdom ;" let us "hide his word in our hearts," and we shall find it will preserve us from " sinning against him." " The love of the world," accompanied as it always must be by lukewarmness in heavenly things, is indeed a great sin, and will, as far as we indulge in it, be as a cloud between us and the Father; for, "know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God ?" But then we need not be discouraged ; for though we never can overcome it in our own strength, we have a promise that the " strength of the Lord Jesus shall be made perfect in our weakness." " Of his fulness, we re- ceive grace for grace." Dost thou want grace every moment to keep thee from falling?— "My grace is sufficient for thee." Wouldest thou have wisdom? "Christ is made unto us wisdom." " God giveth to all liberally, and upbraideth not." Wouldest thou have peace? There is "peace and joy for thee in believing." Thy Saviour is " the Prince of Peace," Wouldest thou be preserved unto the end ? " The Lord is faithful, who shall stablish you, and keep you from evil." Finally, do we seek for direction in every step of our path through life? Let us feed on those precious promises. Isa. xxx. 21, and xlviii. 17. Thus, my dear friend, we may go on, " with joy drawing water out of the wells of salvation ;" and g 2 74 MEMOIR OF we are then constrained to cry out with Jeremiah " Thy words were found, and I did eat them ; and thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of mine heart." I fear that I have al- ready taken too much time upon this; but it has pleased God, in my afflictions, to make Christ, and the word of Christ, so unspeakably precious to me, that my heart will not rest, till I have called on my dear friend to live in consistency with her privileges as a child of God, and to " rejoice in the Lord al- ways." ■ And again, September 17, 1827. 4 1 have read your letter again and again with deepest in- terest. I grieve to find that you do not gain any sensible comfort in the path of religion. You seem to think yourself going backward, rather than forward. But may not this be, because you see daily more of the vanity and wickedness of your own heart, and of the wretchedness of your very best performances'? If so, are you not making the best possible progress ] And while perhaps in reality you are less con- formed to the world, less bent upon earthly things than you were a few months ago ; your more enlightened views of the spiritual nature of God's law, and the holy strictness of its requirements, may make you see more worldliness and sin in every thing you do, than you were capable of perceiving, when you first began the study of your own heart. For, be- lieve me, the further we "come up from this wilderness, leaning upon our beloved," the more clearly we shall see, that not one step can be taken in our own strength ; and every time we begin to think we are a little stronger, and may venture to stir a few steps alone, we shall be left to stumble and fall, till he again upholds us with his hand. We want to be something in ourselves, to have something that we can call our own, something to look at, and to rest upon as such : when, alas ! we are nothing, have nothing ; but what comes to us from the fulness of Jesus. As long as we look into our own hearts for any source of comfort, we must inevitably be disappointed. If we look at " our righteousness, they are but as filthy rags," " the covering is narrower than that a man can wrap himself in it." But if we cast these filthy rags from us and look to the righteousness of Jesus, then we have a spotless robe ; an ample covering for our naked and defiled souls. I cannot help thinking, my beloved friend, MARY JANE GRAHAM. 75 that your sadness proceeds from thinking too much of your- self, and too little of Jesus. You brood upon your own sin and misery, till you forget " The Lord your righteousness." You are deeply sensible of your own weakness, but dwell too little on the sweet assurance, that you " can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth you." You lament your own folly ; but is not Jesus made wisdom to you ] your own insufficiency; but "in Jesus dwells" there not "all the ful- ness of the Godhead bodily ?" and may not you be "complete in him ?" Yet let us not cease to look at ourselves to make us humble ; but let us look to Jesus to make us happy ; and when we look at him, let us remember, that he is our Jesus, our Saviour, and that will make us more happy. Let me give you a text, which I have sometimes found to be a sovereign remedy against all those fears, which a view of our own sin- fulness is apt to excite : "The name of the Lord is a strong tower ; the righteous runneth into it, and is safe." Here is comfort ; here is safety. My dear friend, I have as much sin and weakness and folly, to lament as you can possibly have ; and if it does not make me as miserable as it does you, it is simply because, whenever I am frightened and tormented by the accusations of conscience, I "run into this strono- tower, and am safe." You too are safe, for have you not taken refuge there 1 Why then will you not open your eyes, and behold how "the name of the Lord, as a strong tower," compasses you on every side, so that you are quite out of the reach of every enemy; Jesus is our "hiding place and our shield." If we fear Satan, he will soon " braise Satan under our feet." If we fear the world, Jesus "has overcome the world." If we fear the treachery of our own deceitful hearts, let us put those hearts into the hands of Jesus ; he shall turn them "as the rivers of water, whithersoever he will. Nor is he only thus strong to defend us, but rich to supply all our need. If we want repentance, Jesus is exalted to give re- pentance. If we want faith, " it is given us on the behalf of Christ to helieve." If we want holiness, " Jesus is made of God sanctification unto us." If we want peace, " the peace of God shall keep our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." In short, let our sins, and fears, and wants be ever so great, they need not drive us to despair, as long as Jesus lives and " is able to save to the uttermost." We are com- plete in him. Well then might David say, "They that know thy name will put their trust in thee;" well might Solomon 76 MEMOIR OF say: " Thy name is as ointment poured forth ;" and Isaiah: " His name shall be called Wonderful." But, my dear friend, we have an interest in this precious name; we may draw near to the Father of mercies in this name, and he will deny us nothing. Then shall we give way to gloomy doubts and forebodings any more 1 Alas ! I know how little all these reflections weigh with us, unless the Spirit of God bring them home with light and power to our hearts. Even while I am talking to you, my own heart is so little affected, that I am ashamed to go on ; but I speak rather as I would feel, than as I do feel.' The above statements of Divine truth will be generally admitted to be of a Scriptual and decided character. Her exhibition of the humbling doctrines of the Gospel brings no occasion for despondency ; while it commends to the awaken- ed sinner the simple glory of a free salvation. Nor does her view of gratuitous acceptance lose a particle of its evangelical clearness by the connected display of its fruitfulness. The man thoroughly humbled by the doctrines of the grace of God, will delight in holiness as the track of communion with his God, and the path-way to heaven ; while his sense of continued defilement will preserve him from self-righteous- ness, deepen his self-abasement, and establish his faith in the simplicity of Christ. Her connected apprehensions of what are called the higher doctrines of the gospel with the whole system, are well stated by the beloved brother, whose high previlege it was to attend her during her last illness. ' She had received,' he observes, ' the Gospel as a dispen- sation of pure grace. She delighted to speak in a holy man- ner of God's electing love. She " knew her election," and rejoiced in a sense of her high privilege. The reception of this blessed doctrine produced in her soul deep humility, gratitude, and love. She well knew, that it was God " who had made her to differ" from a " world that lielh in wicked- ness ;" and she could say from her heart: "Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory, for thy mercy and for thy truth's sake." She w r as so deeply con- vinced from the word of God, from all around her, and from her own heart, of the deep depravity of human nature, of the utter helplessness of man to do, think, or say any thing that is spiritually good, that she saw no other method, MARY JANE GRAHAM. 77 whereby a sinful creature could be saved, but from the com- bined offices of the Holy Trinity; from the election of the Father, the redemption of the Son, and the sanctification of the Spirit.' A single extract from her publication will fully corroborate this testimony. The beauty of her language will justify the length of the quotation. 4 Thus it is, that while the doctrine of predestination is death to those who weary themselves in presumptuous dis- puting^ and reasonings about it, there always have been and will be a happy few, who, humbly and sincerely feeding upon it, receiving all that the Scripture tells them concern^ ing it, and desiring to know no further, find it health and peace to their souls. It lays them very low at the feet of their Redeemer; brings down the high swelling of their pride and self-esteem, pulls away from under them all those broken reeds upon which they had been used to lean, self- righteousness, self-will, self-dependence : and leaves to them no one prop on which to lean for support : whilst "coming up out of this wilderness," but the arm of " their Beloved ;" that everlasting arm, which will surely conduct them to glory. When that arm becomes shortened that it cannot save, or weak that it cannot support ; when the arm of Jesus fails and is weary ; then they will begin to look around for some other stay, but not till then. Or when they can discover in themselves one single good thing which Jesus did not put there: one reason why he should visit them with such amazing love ; then they will conclude that his love took its rise from theirs ; not theirs from His. But they never will discover one such thing, so long as the Spirit of God illu- mines their heart, and brings to light its immense depravity and worthlessness. Therefore as God's love could not have been excited by any thing in them, they believe it to be an eternal love : that they were called in time, because they were chosen from eternity ; and that the name of Jesus is now engraven as a seal upon their hearts, because their names were written on his heart before ever the world was. And when their thoughts stretched forward to the end of this pil- grimage, and they rejoice in the view of the mansions pre- pared for them in their Father's house, the crown of that re- joicing is this : " We got not the land in possession by our own strength, neither did our own arm save us; but thy rio-ht hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, because 7S memoir or thou hadst a favour unto us" "Thus they rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh;" for "God is the odory of their strength ; and in his favour their horn is exalted." 4 1 cannot pretend to meet the objections, or to refute the cavils commonty raised, when this doctrine of election is made the subject of discussion ; for I did not learn it in the way of carnal reasonings, but by simply taking the Scriptures as I found them, and as the Spirit of God enabled me to re- ceive them. If St. Paul, after descanting on this subject, breaks off in an extacy of admiration, exclaiming — " How un- searchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out !" we need not wonder, if our shallow understandings are inca- pable of fathoming, our limited capacities of comprehending, our low minds of reaching them. We must be satisfied with believing that it is even so, because "so it seemed good in our Father's sight," whatever it may appear in ours. This reason, which appeared satisfactory to our Saviour, may sure- ly satisfy us ; or if not, he has vouchsafed an assurance, which may well serve to repress present inquiry into things too high for us — " What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter." ' That these things are so, I believe, because I find them amongst the "revealed things, which belong to us and our children forever." How or why they are so, I desire not too closely to inquire, lest I should intrude into the " secret things, which belong unto the Lord our God." O that he would give unto every one of us that humble and teachable Spirit, with which a little ignorant child is content to receive his father's lessons, without rudely commenting upon his father's ways, or rashly intruding into his father's secrets ! This one thing we know ; and with this we may be satisfied ; that " the Judge of all the earth cannot but do right." But it were pre- posterous to expect that he should always do that which is right in our eyes, so long as our notions of right and wrong are so utterly confused and perverted as they have been ever since the fall. He himself tells us that "the Lord seeth not as man seeth :" and that " that which is highly esteemed among men is abomination in the sight of God." It cannot be, so long as " his ways are equal, and ours unequal," that his righteous dealings should be in exact accordance with our unrighteous views and sentiments. Instead then of wearying ourselves with impotent attempts to bring down his will and MARY JANE GRAHAM. 79 counsel to the level of our ideas, our far wiser way will be to submit our thoughts and ideas to his will, assured that it is holy, just, and good.' She then proceeds to defend the doctrine at some length, and with considerable ability, from the usual objections of charging God with injustice, and of encouraging licentiousness, arrogance, and despondency in man. The writer has indulged himself with this large extent of quotation, as the best means of introducing Miss Graham's work from the comparative obscurity of an anonymous publi- cation, into that more general acceptance, which, in his own, and, he presumes he may add, in his reader's judgment, it well deserves. It would be too much to anticipate a univer- sal concurrence in all her statements. Yet from the peculiar unction and richness of her theology, and its entire freedom from speculation and controversy, they cannot be read by the serious reader without spiritual profit. The more mysterious doctrines (as will be seen from the last quotation) are hand- led in a holy, practical spirit, eminently calculated to soften prejudice, to prostrate the soul in humble thankfulness, and to enlarge the Christian's joy in God. It is indeed one of the many painful results from the harsh, crude, and abstract state- ments too often given of these doctrines ; that they have con- tributed unjustly to discredit the more sober Scriptural decla- rations, which, when cast, like Miss Graham's, into the mould of our Seventeenth Article, are justly pronounced by our Church to be ' full of sweet, pleasant, and unspeakable com- fort to godly persons.' On such deep and humbling subjects, the writer would not presume to set up his judgment as the rule of faith for the Church. Yet he has felt a caution necessary for his own mind, which he ventures therefore to suggest to his brethren. Let us take care, lest the irreconcilableness of these doctrines with our apprehensions of the Divine character, rather than a defect of their Scriptural evidence, should influence our re- jection of them. Is there no danger, lest a predisposing bias in the search for this evidence, should obscure that single- ness of eye, which is the only medium for the reception of heavenly light] The admission of these doctrines, indeed, as the result of disputation or argument, could only issue in a fearful proportion of that " knowledge which puffeth up," combined with a total absence of the "love that edifieth." But the child-like reception of them as revealed in the Holy 80 MEMOIR OF Scriptures, will be (as we have just hinted), eminently fruit- ful in humiliation, love, privilege, and devotedness. After all, however, we must remember — " A man can receive no- thing, except it be given him from heaven." This sacred aphorism lays the only substantial basis of the true faith of the Gospel, while the light reflected upon the steady course of Christian consistency, though it will not clear up every diffi- culty, will enlarge our discovery of the Divine goodness to man, and assure to our minds the unchangeableness of God, as the ground of that " strong consolation," which " the heirs of promise" are fully warranted to enjoy. II. On subjects of Theological Discussion. The first question is closely connected with some of the subjects of the last section. It states her views of the consis- tency of conditional promises ivith a free salvation. 4 As to the promises' — Miss Graham observes — ' 1 do not say, that they are unconditional either ; but I do say, that the conditions on which they depend are such as guilty man is altogether incapable of performing. I do say that Jesus as our Surety, has performed all these for us, and by his Spirit will perform them all in us. Through his perfect atonement we escape the threatenings ; through his unspotted obedience we become " heirs of the promises" — heirs of eternal life. For if the blame of our sins has been imputed to Him, then has the merit of His righteousness been imputed to us. " If he has been made sin for us, then have we been made the righteousness of God in him." And. because the promises are ours for his sake, therefore the conditions of them are worked in us by his free Spirit ; " for it is not we who live the life of faith, but Christ that liveth in us." 4 One of the sweetest promises, upon which the mind of every Christian rests with unspeakable delight, runs thus : "Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." Here is a condition, M Him that cometh ;" and a promise — " I will not cast out." But who are those that come to Jesus'? " All that the Father giveth me shall come to me." " No man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me, draw him." " No man can come to me, except it were given to him of my Father." How distinctly are we here told, that the same free mercy, which promises to receive us when we come, must be put forth to make us come ; or we never should MARY JANE GRAHAM. ' 81 come / The promise will surely be fulfilled to all who obey the condition.; but none can obey the condition, save those to whom it is given.'* ' Every condition necessary to salvation' — she remarks — 'is fulfilled in us, not by any efforts of our own, but by our " receiving" continually " grace for grace out of the fulness of Jesus." ' In confirmation of her argument, she adduces the Christian graces (repentance, faith, love,) as required of us, but yet wrought in us. Thus she concludes the discus- sion — ' The great question then about the promises seems to be, not so much whether they are conditional, as whether God looks to Christ, or to us, for the performance of those condi- tions. If to Christ, the burden is laid upon " one that is mighty .•" if to us, then we are undone ; ' for the condition of man after the fall is such, that he cannot turn and prepare himself, by his own natural strength and good works, to faith and calling upon God : wherefore we have no power to do good works pleasant and acceptable to God, without the grace of God by Christ preventing us, that we may have a good will, and working with us, when we have that good will.'' This statement is confessedly strong and uncompromising; yet it is in the writer's apprehension, neither unguarded, un- scriptural, or discouraging. It assumes with our church the Scriptural point, not of the weakness, but of the utter helpless- ness of man. It connects the freeness of the Gospel with the sovereign purpose and Almighty grace of God. Thus man and God are each in his proper place ; man in the dust ; God on the throne. The humble and intelligent believer will ac- knowledge of every act of faith and obedience to the end of his course — " Thou also hast wrought all our works in ws." Nor will he hesitate to trace all these works to the " good plea- sure" of his God as the first cause. The opposite statement may be easily proved to be most discouraging. The free invitations of the Gospel are uncon- nected with an entire dependence upon Divine grace to ena- ble the sinner to accept them. Conscious inability is there- fore left without any power to act upon it. The sinner is either blinded in self-delusion, or hardened in despondency. On the other hand his helplessness is taught to depend upon the Sovereign pleasure of a God of love ; and he " works out his salvation with fear and trembling," indeed, but with con- fident hope of perseverance. H 82 MEMOIR OF The unscriptural use of the term condition with many theo- logians — as if man could of himself perform the work of his salvatio?i — has brought it into disrepute. Yet in Miss Gra- ham's view conditional promises ultimately resolve them- selves into absolute unconditional love. The duties of Chris- tian obedience — the Divinely appointed means of enjoying the promises — do not depend upon any thing to be fulfilled by us. They constitute a part of the engagements of the Evangelical covenant, by which the Lord fulfils 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 allowed by many of our most orthodox divines, whose statements cannot justly be accused of infringing upon the freeness of the Gos- pel. It would be difficult to substitute any other theological term, that would express the sense of many important decla- rations of Scripture with equal precision and appropriateness. Let it be understood to imply — not what is meritorious, but what is necessary in the economy of the Gospel — not an effi- cient cause, but an indispensable requisite. Is it not then needless scrupulosity to exchange a convenient term of expli- cation for feeble circumlocution 1 And may there not be some danger, lest in our anxiety to preserve the freeness of Scrip- tural 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 with 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 altd sincerity of a prayer avail without it 1 ? Doubt- less, my dear 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 that knowledge, respecting which he is in utter darkness. 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 1 And is not this poor ignorant prayer the first fruits of this intercession 1 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 1 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 83 Certain I am, that the person who thus begins to seek after the Lord with his whole heart, will ere long have Jesus re- vealed 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 1 was so bewildered in the labyrinth of infidelity, that I actually should have feared to have been guilty of blas- phemy, had 1 prayed in the name of Jesus. 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 answered. But our experience is of little value, unless it agrees with Scripture. I think the Bible is very clear upon this head, and therefore I venture to speak so confidently. I will men- tion two or three texts. " He that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him." Is not this a description of the degree of faith and knowledge, which is necessary before a person can come and pray to God in an acceptable manner f And is not this the sum of it, that he must believe that 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 per- son 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 acceptance.* Again, * This text may, doubtless, be accommodated for intelligent and warranted encouragement in the case here presented to us. Yet it may be questioned whether Miss Graham's exposition includes the whole substance of the Apostle's mind. The faith of Cain in bring- ing his offering probably admitted the naked belief of the existence of God, and of his bounty to those that inquired after him. The Apostle's definition, however, stands in immediate connexion 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 sup- pose some relation to him. See Gen. xvii. 1. Exod. iii. 14. The very expectation of reward to sinners deserving condemnation, must, in a righteous government, be grounded upon some apprehension, 84 MEMOIR OF " If any man will (or wishes to) do the will of God, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether 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, u speaking of himself '." What then is the prepara- tion 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 the doctrine." Consider also the free and generous promise of Christ, that " our heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit 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 gra- cious promise. Would you have thought of any intercession, of any thing beyond asking ? And you would probably have asked ; " O my heavenly Father, give me 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 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 pro- mise would seem to carry with it a want of sincerity, as hav- ing a condition attached to it, which was concealed from you, and which the very nature of your petition incapacitated you from performing, until further knowledge was given. 1 be- lieve, 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 however obscure, of a way of favourable 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 judgment." MARY JANE GRAHAM. S5 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 you 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 Jesus 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 re warder 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 which they do not believe (that is, to act contrary to the reason which God himself 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 abundance;" he shall be rich in faith. And this is as true to my mind, as clear as any of the promises of God can be. You say, ' Must faith be acting at the time V I think the degree of faith mentioned in Heb. xi. 6, must. Yet even this, we know, may be a trembling faith, such as, " If thou canst do any thing, Lord, I believe : help thou mine unbelief." But, " the day of small things," the first prayers of a hitherto unbelieving sinner have something in them unspeakably in- teresting. 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 with- out transport. This is that " faith which is as a grain of mustard seed." Wrapped within its minute, dry, and un- sightly husk is the embryo of the future tree, which shall expand and " flourish in the courts of our God." Oh ! what a h 2 86 MEMOIR OF 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 " abund- ance 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 sub- ject, and to speak directly to the point with much force and clearness. The instance of the penitent Ninevites ignorant of the medium of acceptance might have been added to her Scripture illustrations of the argument. And we can scarce- ly doubt that the cry to a Supreme Being — ' Ens entium, mis- erere met* — " 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 conscience in a benighted world. No other way to God than by Christ is here supposed, though an unconscious approach through him is admitted. For ourselves, however, who have been made acquainted with his precious name, no obligation is more important, no privi- lege more delightful, thanrthe 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 savour." 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 either as God or man, but to make his entire person the object of our trust. This intelligent 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 mixture of decision and forbearance to determine its precise lhnits. While insisting upon the importance of a clear ap- prehension of Divine Truth, we would present the full Scrip- tural encouragement to souls emerging out of darkness with MARY JANE GRAHAM. S7 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. Sin- cerity 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 be aware 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 Gra- ham 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 any well-grounded hope of acceptance. In the neglect of this theology, we should at- tempt to open a way to heaven without " entering in by the door." We should admit the unscriptural supposition of pleasing God "without faith." We should endeavour to maintain our complete acceptance with God without the con- tinued application of "the blood of sprinkling." 'Take heed' — said the excellent Dr. Owen — ' lest, while we en- deavour to invent new ways to heaven for others, by so do- ing, we lose the true way ourselves.' Miss Graham's discussion of the subject, in connexion with the experience of the intelligent Christian, is most satisfac- tory and edifying. 1 1 think I now quite understand you about prayer. My reason for speaking of the beginnings only of prayer was, that I thought no confirmed Christian could possibly pray with- out a reference to the mediation of Christ Jesus. But your observation, that we may pray without immediately referring to it, or even thinking directly of it, is very just, as in the case you mention of ejaculatory prayer. But I would ask you, my dearest friend, is it not an understood matter between us and our heavenly Father, that we are to have all things in the name of Jesus 1 Would we, if we could, receive even the least of our blessings through any other medium? Is it not S8 MEMOIR OF the very joy of our hearts to have every thing, and do every thing through Christ ; to helieve 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 1 And is this fixed, settled, deep-rooted feeling less, when in ejacula- tory prayer there is no immediate 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 1 It is delightful and profitable to do this ; but yet I think the in- tention 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 it to be heard V would you not reply — ' In the one name of my Beloved?' And would not the heaven of hea- vens 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 repeating as often as possible to ourselves and to others 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 answered, 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 infirmity I may have expressed myself amiss or deficiently, infinite love will not misunderstand me. r 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 an- chor 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 89 often, (as I now do) that I am obliged to remind 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 un- conscious, feeling 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 and power of prayer to qualify me to give my sentiments on so important a subject.' The following letter on Prayer to the Holy Sjririt, evinces much thought and spirituality. ' I 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 de- sirable 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 Tri-une 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 petitions. But it appears to me, that separate addresses are permitted, if not sanctioned in Scripture. And what I would earnestly con- tend for, (but that I 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 Ghost 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 ad- dress 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 full of his glory." The same sep- arate act of worship is surely implied, when the four beasts, who rest not day and night, adore the Almighty, saying— ** Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, 90 MEMOIR OF and is to come." Jesus commanded to " baptize in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Here again a separate act of worship seems to be implied. By- baptizing in the name of each Person of the Holy Trinity, distinctly and separately repeated, I cannot hut understand, that we separately invoke each of them to perform their cove- nanted 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;' 1 and why he should come and dwell in this temple, except to receive our acts of worship, I do not see. Besides, all his offices invite us to pray to him. He is our Comforter; 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 all these things he will be inquired of by us, to do them for us." I had almost forgotten to mention that beautiful prayer, Numb. vi. 24 — 26, which I have always considered as a separate invocation of the Persons of the Sa- cred Trinity. May "the fellowship of the Holy Ghost" 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 Christians. Perhaps an endeavour to present it in its full Scriptural light will not be unacceptable. The exclusive claim of the only true God to the worship of his 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. We may remark therefore upon the general subject, that the proofs of the Per- sonality and Deity of the Holy Spirit are so decisive (though obviously this is not the place for their production,) that only scrupulosity of mind and judgment could refrain the honour of Divine worship on account of the withholding of a more explicit revelation. The Divine nature — not the distinct. Per- sonality — is the proper and necessary ground of worship. Each person therefore in the Sacred Trinity possesses equal and unalienable claims — not as a person but as God — to the trust, love, subjection, invocation, and every form and act of worship from the creatures of God. The Holy Spirit, there- fore, « with the Father and the Son, together is worshipped and glorified.' MARY JANE GRAHAM. 91 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 wor- shippers ; which {considering his Personality) is some nega- tive testimony on this point. He is represented as " pro- ceeding out of the throne," being not only "before," but " in the midst of the throne ;" his " seven eyes" marking 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, evi- dently includes his worship. "The Lord sitting upon his throne" and worshipped with most solemn and impressive adoration, sent by his own authority, and spake by his own mouth, that commission to the Prophet, which an apostle de- clares to have been delivered to him by the Holy Ghost. The ivorship of the earth commences at the visible entrance into the church of God. The very first act of Christian wor- ship 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. For as the administration of this seal of the covenant in the name of the Holy Ghost is a direct acknowledgment 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 commu- nion" or " fellowship of the Spirit" (one of the most enli- vening privileges of the Gospel) must also, like the " fellow- ship with the Father and the Son," be maintained by prayer in the large acceptation 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. In Christian experience, the offices of the Holy Spirit — as Miss Graham remarks — when connected with his Divine Person- ality, 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 4 God that heareth prayer." Nor indeed can we conceive of 92 MEMOIR OP his presence in us as his temple, without all the devotional exercises of reverence and praise for his condescending love* ^ The part which the Holy Spirit maintains in the administra" Hon of the church, shows that his claim to immediate worship was fully acknowledged. It was after a day of public and special supplication, that he directed by his own authority the consecration of ministers to his immediate service. To whom then, may we ask, had the prayers of the church been spe- cially addressed, but to Himself, who was manifestly the ob- ject, as well as the author of their consecration 1 And to whom did the worship resulting from this consecration be- long, but to Him, who was the direct source and fountain of it ! We need again only advert to his acknowledged power in the ordination of the ministers of the church, and to the exercise of his sovereignty in the appointment and restraint of their several spheres of labour, and in the distribution of His gifts, as a clear and scriptural warrant for the direct mode of address to Him employed in the Consecration services of our church. The Christian investigator of the early Ecclesiastical Rec- ords will observe with delight this Divine worship fully per- vading the rituals of the Primitive churches.* Our own church, closely following her sacred exemplar, has not con- fined this adoration of the Holy Spirit to her more exclusive Ministerial services. How often has the introduction of it into her Litany elevated the faith, and refreshed the spirits of her sincere worshippers ! The frequent repetition of the dox- ology in her Liturgical exercises, is in the true spirit of the heavenly worship ; and it may be a matter of just surprise, that any one of those who have constantly and joyfully united in this public ascription of praise to the blessed Spirit, should be exercised with scruples as to the Scriptural ground of the pri- vate 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 honour to the Holy Spirit. Her own views of his personality were re- markably clear. ' I feel' — said she on one occasion — ' " the * Hurrion's valuable sermons on the Divinity of the Holy Spirit, and Drs. Berriman's and Waterland's Sermons on the Trinitarian Controversy, give a condensed and satisfactory body of evidence on this subject. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 93 love of the Spirit" as distinct from the manifestation of the love of Christ to my soul. Is this wrong V Then she added — 'I think I can account for the feeling- ; as I have made it a mat- ter of special prayer, that I might have clearer views of the Holy Spirit.' She was accustomed (as we have already seen) to address Him in direct and probably frequent 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, honour, and worship ; so does every sin of "grieving" our Divine Comforter, and "resisting" his holy influence, partake, according to its measure, of the same char* acter. The antecedent obligation is therefore sufficiently ob- vious. The Being against whom sin is committed, must be the worthy object of religious honour 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 obedience and worship. A full, distinct, and frequent confession, however, of our equal dependence upon his power and love is a primary obli- gation, and 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 connexion with more decisive grounds of evidence. From the main points, however, and from the whole view of the question, sufficient warrant may be deduced to satisfy perplexed and unsettled inquirers, and to quicken even the most intelligent 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 ex- plicit 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 with- held 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 re- search would have been more excited, not only without prac- tical 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 sup- ply of his heavenly influence. But in this and every other 94 MEMOIR OF approach to the doctrine of the Trinity, many questions must arise, and must remain unanswered. All that belongs to the inner sanctuary of the essence of the ever-blessed Tri-une God, is equally above conception and expression. The Scrip- tures inform us of his nature, but they do not reason about it. A divinely-guarded and sacred veil covers him from our view. And much thought upon this deep subject of Deity — irrespective of, and beyond, the sacred boundaries-~eh\ier in- volves us in the labyrinth of metaphysics, or sinks us into the gross, low, and familiar views of an opposite school. Our inquiries into this subject must be conducted with the deepest caution and the most profound humility. All that belongs to God's own revelation of himself, must be received 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 Divine essence, " without difference or in- equality." At the same time, as our minds are drawn to a separate contemplation of them (especially as seeking those blessings which belong to their respective offices in the econo- my of grace) an immediate address to either of them is fully warranted ; always however remembering that, whichever 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 trans- cribe from Miss Graham's manuscript, a few remarks upon 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 import- ance of mathematical study as furnishing armour and discip- line suitable to the present crisis, she remarks — ' Intelligent Christians are especially called upon to set themselves in strong array against the gathering forces of in- fidelity. This last enemy of Christianity is filling up his ranks from all classes of the community. The active dili- gence of his malignity naturally reminds us of the prediction — " The devil is come down to you, having great wrath, be- cause he knoweth that he hath but a short time." ' The deceitful and superficial character of the arguments employed by the great adversary is well exposed. ' They MARY JANE GRAHAM. 95 generally consist,' she observes, * of a confused mass of ob- jections, apparently formidable from their very indistinctness. Like objects seen through a fog, the superficial observer sup- poses them to be larger than they really are. But let as dis- entangle 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 philosophy. We shall find that they may be classed under two heads- Assertions which are true, but no way to the purpose ; and assertions which 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 mat- ter with that which is true and pertinent, the understandings of the self-conceited and unwary are subverted. Strictly speak- ing, 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 many arguments of this kind are artfully in- terwoven together) whether it has any connexion 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 wis- dom suffers these " scoffers to come in the last age, " will not fail to raise up men in his Church well-fitted to resist them. These champions of the 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 Arians, an acute and powerful reasoner was raised up in the person of Athanasius. A wise and learned Augustine was provided to quell the dreadful heresy of Pelagius. Luther, Calvin, Me- lancthon, and almost all the eminent Reformers, were men of profound erudition, and strong powers of argumentation. 96 MEMOIR OF " God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise ;" 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 advanta- ges of hum#n 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 sucklings our God ordaineth strength." Let us then seek to obtain the spirit and temper of a little child. But let us never forget, that, while " in malice we are children," it behoves 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 con- quered. This time he wanted no other weapon, for God had appointed him no other. But when on a future occasion he was sore pressed by his enemies, he went into the temple of the Lord, and demanded the sword of that same Goliath. "There is none," said he, "like that; give it me." Why should he choose a weapon, which he had seen fall powerless from the hand of the uncircumcised Philistine T 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 cau- tion. Let us not take the sword of the Philistine, till it has been consecrated in the temple of the Lord.' The present face of the times in the judgment of all intel- ligent 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 the 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 armour of God. This is no time for slumber or inaction. A religion taken upon trust," " received by tradition from our fathers," provides no re- source in the hour of trial. A " faith standing not upon the wisdom of man, but upon the power of God" — will be a de- fence, a stay, a ground of unfailing hope and consolation. MARY JANE GRAHAM. Q7 Bat on this subject we will give Miss Graham's own words in a letter to her cousin without date. It will be found to be a refreshing specimen of her mode of treating subjects which have lately been found so fruitful in speculation, in a practi- cal and edifying application. April, 1827. * Amongst the 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 fulfil- ment of this prophecy 1 Who can need purifying more than we do 1 Who can say that these words are not addressed to us 1 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 1 may pray against so fatal an event ; and this is my reason for communi- cating it to you. When I was almost overwhelmed with this reflection, these sweet words came to my heart, and made me think of you, — " Two are better than one." Since in this in- stance 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 unhap- pily one of us should fall, may the other be ready to raise her up again. If I should fall either into the love of the world, or into infidelity, 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 en- couragement, — " 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 ex- actly at that time to console the saints under their difficulties, i 2 98 MEMOIR OF by assuring 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 des- cribes 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 1 Let us plead this promise. It speaks to me like a voice from heaven. It answers every fear, every uncer- tainty. Would God choose and call soldiers who would be unfaithful to him 1 Will not our Captain teach us to follow him whenever he will have us to go 1 When I say to my- self, 'Poor and feeble creature, what will you do in that time of distress and temptation 1 Faith, which cannot resist a sin- gle vain thought, how will you resist the united efforts of the world, the devil, and a wicked heart V 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 interesting, 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. 1 There is yet another subject,' she observes, which, though at present but partially considered, bids fair, ere long, to en- gross the attention of the Christian world. I allude to the study of prophecy. " 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 ad- vert to it in this place, because I have heard with inexpressi- ble pleasure, that these inquiries have already been useful in thinning the ranks of infidelity. The inducements of 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 99 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 enlightened 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 anticipation 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 writ- ings, we must, like Daniel, " set our faces unto the Lord God, to seek by prayer and supplication." My object is to hint to the youthful student, who may probably be hereafter engaged in this most interesting contemplation, the extreme import- ance of having his imagination under the strictest discipline of reason. If ever the " spirit of a sound mind" was neces- sary, it is so in the investigation of the future prophecies. A more than mathematical accuracy of definition, of statement, and of argument, should be carried into all that is said or writ- ten upon this subject. When I consider the extraordinary spirit of inquiry that is now beginning to spread ; when I think I perceive that these inquiries are not only justified by Scripture, but are themselves a part of prophetic fulfilment ; and when I joyfully anticipate that " many shall run to and fro" on this subject, " and knowledge shall be" wonderfully " increased ;" it is at such times that I most deeply feel the importance of intreating the young Christian diligently to cultivate, in a spirit of prayer and faith, all those parts of education, which especially tend to impart soundness, pene- trativeness, and energy to his reasoning powers.' Whatever may be thought of the somewhat novel connec- tion 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 dogmatical statement would have been re- strained, many painful absurdities would have been excluded, and much perplexity 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 chnrch is awakened to the full and dutiful acknowledgment of her Lord's command ; " Search the Scriptures." Indeed, 100 MEMOIR OF apart from the authority of this express command, the univer- sal " spirit of prophecy," as " the testimony of Jesus," while it furnishes the true key of interpretation, gives it an impera- tive claim upon our attention and regard. The succession of events most deeply interesting and solemnly instructive passing before us through the medium of the daily press, also strong- ly marks our immediate and personal concern in this Scriptu-" ral research. Many Christians are unduly repelled by the difficulties and uncertainty which confessedly belong to the subject. But " the prophets," though they could not understand, felt it their duty and privilege to " search." " We have also the more sure word of prophecy," 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 considera- tion of fulfilled prophecy is a component of Christian evidence to our own minds, and will furnish the " answer, that we should be ready always 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 prophecy ; if it be 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 imperfectly direct- ed to the Saviour, the presentment of the claims of unfulfilled prophecy for consideration is a most mischievous evil. The soul is diverted from the main object of contemplation and pursuit. A speculative taste is gratified in the place of the prac- tical 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 circum- stances, attention to prophecy must be regulated, in some de- gree at least, by the leisure, opportunities, and advantages severally belonging to us ; not failing to pay due regard 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 experimental and practical habits, is greatly to be deprecated. Besides the evils with the young inquirer just MARY JANE GRAHAM. 101 adverted to, it keeps out of sight many important subjects of obligation and interest included in the sacred canon. It has originated many of the schisms now unhappily dividing the Church, by the substitution of "doubtful disputation" for substantial truth, greatly to the hindrance of Christian privi- lege, 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 moment. The instance of Daniel produced by Miss Graham, exhibits the finest specimen of the Prophetic Inter- preter or Student. Such diligence of research in prostration of soul, accompanied, with such sanctity, humility, faith, and perseverance, will under the most unfavourable circumstances of external destitution be honoured of God. The exercise of these holy graces will form a safe-guard 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 become a cheering support to us in the anticipation of trials, and a quickening stimulus to the discharge of our immediate responsibilities. The warranted expectation however of human help may probably 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 influ- ence, materially weakens our confidence in the results from their subsidiary intellectual advantages. Other writers of a more decided evangelical school are too sparingly furnished with those resources of erudition and intelligence, which doubt- less were intended to reflect valuable, though subordinate, light upon the prophetic page. Some again of the same school, have taken up crude and indigested views — the result of imagination, impulse, or excitement, rather than of matured judgment and consideration ; while the dogmatism and self- sufficiency of others give no proof of Divine suggestion, and 102 MEMOIR OF 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 difficulties, 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 de- veloped ; and in the different schemes that have been pro- posed, much Christian discernment is required to separate in them what is solidly established, from what is unsubstan- tial and speculative. Human helps must therefore under all circumstances be subsidiary — not primary. Gad's book must ever maintain its own supreme place. The scattered rays reflected from different parts of its. prophetic system (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 Chris- tian student. We feel therefore great confidence in recom- mending a Berean search of the scriptures as the ground-work of prophetic investigation ; not omitting to avail ourselves of the industry and intelligence of accredited writers for the expan- sion of our views, and the elucidation" of our difficulties; but at the same time exercising our judgment in dependence upon our heavenly Teacher, again to compare the exposition of their systems with the light of the sacred book. In this pro- cess of inquiry we are persuaded, that " the wise shall under- stand," (even though they be "way-faring fools") as far as is consistent with the Divine will, and necessary for their duty and comfort ; and for the rest, they may well be content to wait for the full splendour of the light of the heavenly word. May the writer without presumption be allowed to suggest a few hints relative to the clear interpretation and profitable study of prophecy 1 1. Let the special need of Divine influence be primarily considered. Far be it from the writer to underrate the intel- lectual qualifications. He is well aware of the treasures of erudition that have been effectively applied to this most im- portant 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 wis- dom belongs to Cod ; 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 weigh his special MARY JANE GRAHAM. 103 and weighty responsibilities. How large a portion of the grace and " wisdom that is from above," does he need, to induce that waiting spirit so acceptable to God ; to restrain the rising of dogmatism, spiritual self-will and conceit; to repress "private interpretations," so inconsistent 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 entire view of the whole range of prophecy, instead of contracting his interest to a few favourite 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 en- larged apprehensions ; 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 forbid 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 the understanding ;" and they incul- cate a habit of dependence, supplication, seriousness, and that reverence, which Lord Bacon so justly describes as in- dispensable to the profitable consideration of the subject. 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 con- clusions; and "every one," as at Corinth, "hath a doc- trine, hath a tongue, hath a revelation, hath an interpre- tation." It cannot be doubted, but this defect of Chris- tian simplicity is one main cause of the indeterminate apprehension of the subject. Who does not see how need- ful is "singleness of eye," -the gift of God, to reflect light 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 be inculcated in this research. The importance of this spirit in an intellectual view is suffi- ciently obvious, as a guard from the prevalent evils of self- conceit. Its influence 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 Ad- 104 - MEMOIR OP vent,) are embarrassed with difficulties on both sides, suffi- cient to preserve wise and humble men from dogmatizing- on either part ; and to excite mutual respect and forbearance, rather than what we are too often constrained to see — " brethren grudging one against another." The event indeed is a doctrine of faith, absolutely certain. The time and cir- cumstantials being imperfectly revealed, are matters of for- bearance; on which all, even the most sober, interpreters have been constrained in the course of investigation, 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 surely the light of " perfect day ;" and well would it be for us, if the confession of our ignorance would find vent in the Apostle's adoring contemplation ; " How unsearchable are his judgments ! and his ways past finding out!" 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 cautious 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 recollection 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 a less deter- minate fixing of dates of the several prophetic eras offers large room for the exercise of this forbearing spirit. Prophets with all their warranted confidence were modest. They never spoke without a clear commission : " Thus saith the Lord." Interpreters of prophecy are not always so modest. The confident mode of calculation which is sometimes adopt- ed, might lead us to suppose not only that the several periods, but also that their commencing points, were, like Daniel's weeks, absolutely revealed. To a few of the most important eras, dates more or less probable, but not absolutely decisive, may be assigned ; and in periods of less moment, experience MARY JANE GRAHAM. 105 has fully shown, how unsatisfactory all attempts to fix 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 admirably 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 subjects obscurely re- vealed. General views are sufficient for the ground and en- couragement of faith. And the cloud that still covers this mystic history of futurity, abundantly shows, that the end of prophecy was not to make us prophets ; but to " set us upon our watch-tower," as diligent and humble inquirers, seek- ing to "have understanding 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 im- portant uses. It 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 writ- ten 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 exercise our faith, to call forth our Christian graces, to enliven our hopes, to quicken our anticipation of the ultimate triumph of the king- dom of Christ ; and meanwhile that we should mark with soberness 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 !" 3. Let the subject be ever 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 pre- ceptive, 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 consequences, our prepossess- ed fancy is far more likely to give the interpretation than the Divine Spirit. The blessing belongs to those that " keep the K 106 MEMOIR OF things that are written in the words of this prophecy." The fruit of Daniel's research was that which is most specially- needed at the present eventful moment : intercession for the church 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 instruction that were designed for him. Supposing that the period of accomplishment is far distant, yet there is a large preparatory work of prayer, exertion, and Christian de- votedness, urgently pressing upon us. And far better shall we be employed in girding ourselves to tbe discharge of the practical obligations of prophecy, than in minutely tracing out the conjectured period and mode of its fulfilment, 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 per- sonal revelation to our own souls, and lest we too slightly regard those clearest predictions of the sacred page — the promises of God to his people, and his threatenings to the unbelieving world ? How much has been lost to the church by a speculative con- templation of the prophetic view of the doctrine of our Lord's second advent ! If, instead of filling up (from the resources of imagination more than from the substance of Scripture) the outlines, the faith of the church had been singly fixed upon the glory of this consummating event, and intensely exercised in the glow of expectancy, how different 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 would have been in extended activity ! It ill becomes servants, looking for the return of their absent lord, to spend themselves in discussing the mode and circum- stantials of his coming, when they might be far more suitably employed in preparing the house for his reception, and in rea- diness 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 dispensa- tion to invigorate the church in every age w r ith the high pri- vilege and obligation of looking for this triumphant crisis. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 107 Whatever views therefore tend to divert the attention from the present duties connected with this anticipation, are the un- scriplnral delusions of man's conceit. This spirit of constant expectancy may be considered as the perfecting feature of the Christian character. It concentrates 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, sobrietry of spirit, readiness of habit, and watchful prepara- tion 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 ! W T hat materials does it give for personal edification, compassionate labours for the unconvert- ed, and mutual exhortation and comfort in the church of God ! How cheering is the prospect which it holds out of complete transformation into the image of our beloved Lord! What patient hope and joyful anticipation does it bring into the waiting soul ! So eminently practical — so richly consolatory — is the believing and habitual contemplation of the coming of our Lord ! Indeed when we realize the hope of body and soul at this blissful era being equal participants of the eternal redemption — the happiness of every member of the body con- summated in the complete glorification 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 joy- ful known on earth since the fall of man. We wonder not that "the whole creation," now "groaning and travailing to- gether in pain" under the ruins of sin — should then be awaken- ed 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 incul- cated upon the church, while the event which it contemplated could only be seen through the long vista of some thousand years. It does not therefore necessarily imply the approach of the grand crisis. Yet the view which has just been given of it, includes all the essential principles of sanctification and of happiness. We cannot therefore but see sufficient reason for the large space which it occupies in the enforcement of Christian obligation, and the prospects of Christian hope. Our Divine Saviour is brought eternally near to his people. 108 MEMOIR OF His perfect likeness is the immediate consequence of his vi- sion. 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 pros- pects of the church upon her present duties and privileges. The minute descriptive details, that have been sometimes con- nected with the coming of Christ in his kingdom (not to speak of their doubtful scriptural authority, and their closer alliance to earth than to heaven) have a strong tendency tore- press a spiritual contemplation of this great event. Even the details given in the prophetic books are much under the veil. Interpreters expound them according to the principles of their different systems ; and after all their diligence and labour, much is left unexplained, or resting upon conjectural support. In these things the writer is content to " walk by faith, not by sight." All that is necessary is revealed. We shall be as happy as God can make us. As to any precise knowledge "it doth not yet appear what we shall be." And such knowledge we want not. It exhibrts a far more enlarged ex- pectancy to be assured, that it will be something that we nei- ther 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 kingdom, 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 expec- tation. 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 na- tural strain, will be generally interesting. Even where no striking features are visible, an affectionate earnestness, ten- der sympathy, and a direct application of the first principles of the Gospel to the several cases of her friends cannot fail of being observed. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 109 The following- letter appears to have been written to a friend, newly awakened to concern for her eternal interests. Nov. 1826. 1 1 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 very clearly, what more it is that re- ligion requires of you. You see, that there is nothing 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 un- interesting. You often pray ; but do not always find either comfort or sweetness in 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 other people. This is what many feel, who are beginning to be very anxious about re- ligion. 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 any thing 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 undergo, before they can truly re- ceive Christ as their Saviour, is described in terms no less striking — " Ye must be bom again." " If any man be in Christ Jesus, he is a new creature; 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, worldly, heartless religion, with which the gene- rality 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 k 2 110 MEMOIR OF of his creating power. But when he breathes spiritual life into the soul of one "dead in trespasses and sins," this seems more wonderful ; and yet this is what we vainly think we can do ourselves. But if we can be once convinced, that we are so utterly worthies and sinful, that none but Christ can save us, then we shall go to Him for every thing. 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 off trusting in themselves, and cling with a single and undivided heart to the cross of Christ, and " count every thing 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 thing except Christ Jesus, are " hewing out to themselves broken 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 be any poor sinner, who has begun to find out that the pleasures of this world cannot 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 mis- givings keep you away from him, for he " waits to be gra- cious" 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 exceeding- ly sinful you are, you cannot prize Him as you ought. Let me intreat you often to dwell on the " precious promises" of Scripture. Remember, that " in Him all the promises are yea and amen ;" and if we plead in His name for the fulfilment, the truth and faithfulness of God (who cannot lie) stand engaged to perform them for us. There is one in particular which seems to me full of encouragement ; it describes so fully the state of heart we want, and promises to give what 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 dis- tinct 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 your prospects, and more at the MARY JANE GRAHAM. Ill unspeakable mercies with which God has favoured you; par- ticularly that he has given you the greatest blessing he has to give, in calling you to become his reconciled child by 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 yoi# 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 mean time 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 worldly 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 1 ? 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 now, and every member of it, and therefore for you — consider- ing too, " that all the promises of God are yea and amen to us in Christ Jesus;" and that Christ himself has said — "If ye shall ask any thing in my name, / will give it you'" — what en- couragement have we to take these promises to God in pray- er, to wrestle 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 addeth no sorrow with z7." My dear friend, you must come to God thus, and " give him no rest," till he grant you the promised bless- ing. 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 deserving, but for his ,- and his are " the same yesterday, to- day, and for ever." When we fail, Christ remains the same ; 112 . MEMOIR OF and it is for the sake of what he has done, that God will accept us ; not for any thing we can do ; or we might indeed go mourning all the day long.' These letters mark the general tone of Miss Graham's cor- respondence in affectionate counsel and scriptural encourage- ment. The case to which they primarily refer is among the most difficult and delicate within the compass of Christian instruction. No service is more valuable to the sincere but un- intelligent inquirer than to enter into his case with tenderness, forbearance, and anxious consideration of his dimculties. Vague and ill-defined directions throw little light upon his path. Even the primary and immediate counsel, guiding him to the Saviour of sinners, needs a present and particular appli- cation to his individual state. His difficulties will indeed vary according to his simplicity, sincerity, and earnestness. But under all circumstances, the instant duty of believing in Christ must be inculcated. No deficiency of spiritual appre- hensions must*be allowed to hinder immediate attention to " this work of God."* The Gospel was not intended to answer * John vi. 28,29. This instant duty of believing is however ques- tioned by some of our modern religionists — either as seeming to imply a natural power to believe, or as inconsistent with the mani- fest inability to believe without. a divine principle. But our Lord inculcated the duty upon the unbelieving multitude in this passage in answer to their professed inquiry upon the subject of duty. He sub- sequently enforced it upon the same class of hearers (John xii. 36, with 37, 40.) Besides — as sin is the neglect or resistance of obliga- tion, if faith be not the duty of the unconverted, unbelief is not their sin — consequently — 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 Thess. ii. 10, 11.) This system of measuring duty by ability, and of admitting inability to cancel obligation, equally annuls every bond of love and obedience by which man is connected with his God, but for which he is no less incapacitated than for the spiritual exercise of faith. It argues also a forgetfulness of the just- ice of the divine requirements, and of the responsibility of that sinful inclination, which constitutes the principle of his impotency to com- ply with them. The commission of the Gospel is an universal call both to repentance and faith. (Mark i. 15; xvi. 15, 16. Actsxvii.30.) The cross of Christ is held up to the whole world. (Isaiah xlv. 22.) The Holy Spirit emjrtoys its awakening and attractive influence as the means of quickening sinners to life. (John xii. 32.) . Thus die grace of God is glorified, while the unbelief of man excludes him from the free justification of the Gospel, and consequently leaves him without excuse. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 113 the question — " What shall I do, that I may inherit eternal life ?" But it affords a satisfactory reply to a question more nearly interesting to the condition of a sinner — " How can man be just with God !" It opens by the instrumentality of faith a free, immediate, universally accessible way to favour- able acceptance with our offended God. No perplexing course of preparatory discipline is required. All are invited without limitation, without delay. Infinite mercy and grace are pro- vided 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 Scripture has no where prescribed any uniform rule, or mea- sured out the precise extent of necessary conviction. All con- stitutions are not formed alike; and therefore pungency is no certain proof of sincerity. 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 invitation 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 humil- iating conviction. To insist therefore upon a determined measure or intensity of well-defined conviction as a prepara- tion of faith, is an infringement upon the freeness and simpli- city of the Gospel. The law also, as the instrument to pro- duce this conviction, must 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 the temporary and un- satisfactory change from a state of indifference to a state of bondage, without any effective principle of holiness or of privi- lege, and the man will be satisfied without that entire simpli- city of faith and self-dedication so indispensable to salvation. Even in the exhibition 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 unto me." 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 Christain life; yet it must never be employed to originate our peace and hope in 114 MEMOIR OF the Gospel ; but to ascertain the reality of our hope ; to detect false confidence and backsliding; to bring to us the warrant- ed enjoyment of " the testimony of our consciences," in regard to the consistency of our profession ; and to mark our progress in knowledge, experience, and practical devotedness. One further point, connected with the case of the inquirer is of . indispensable moment. He may be assured that there is no indefinitely future period ; no " day of the Lord's power" more favourable for his acceptance than the present ; and that no deficiency of knowledge can acquit him of the obligation of an instant 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 guilt, 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 myself. I 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 nothing of Calvin, or his opinions. I certainly did not form one single 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 1 declined greatly, almost entirely (inwardly) from the ways of God, and in my breast was an infidel, a disbe- liever in the truths of the Bible. When the Lord brought me out of that dreadful state, and established my faith in his word, I determined to take that word alone for my guide. I read nothing else for between 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 changed one of them since. I knew nothing 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 115 to make any human writer our guide in spiritual things. Christ only should be our master, 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, which Cal- vin, in common with many other of God's saints, believed and preached. My belief and settled opinion about predes- tination, you will find expressed more clearly than any words of mine can do in John vi. 37, 39, 65. Rom. viii. 28 — 30. Rom. ix. Eph. i. 3—6, 11. 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 church ; so much so, that if asked my opinion about predestination, I should give it in those very words, from the impossibility of finding any others, which in so short a space expressed my meaning so well. But this article is only of human authority, therefore I should 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. They are, I believe, enough for my present purpose : but detached texts lose much of their power : it is the whole sense of the whole Bible that should determine us ; and since " the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, (for they are foolishness 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 exceedingly plain, and strong, and full, in their account of the doctrine. I endeavour to receive them as a little child, in their plain literal meaning. 'But to return to our dear ; I think the doctrine of election 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 be- lief in the doctrine essentially 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 mine too, (for I do most sincerely love her) possesses this simple 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 116 MEMOIR OF do receive in the commencement of their course, and which some cannot to the very end thoroughly embrace. Many, however, I think embrace the actual doctrine, though they cannot bear the words predestination, election, &c. A strange dislike, since both words happen to be taken from scripture. My beloved -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 subjects connected with it; nor did I find her ideas differ greatly from mine. " Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, Jesus Christ." All who are built on this foundation, who are thus founded on the Rock of Ages, must be secure. " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." Acts xvi. 31, &c. " He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life ; and he that believeth not the Son, shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth on him." John iii. 36. See also John iii. 15, 16, 18; v. 24; vi. 40, 47; xi. 25, 26, &c.' The two next letters are of the class of those which 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 cor- respondent whom she had formerly addressed on the subject of Christian study. Stoke Fleming, Jan. 4, 1827. 4 My own dear Friend, * Every letter I receive from you gives me fresh cause for thankfulness, 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 1 And how can I ever be sufficiently humbled, when I reflect how unfaithfully and inconsistently I have acted towards you? One instance in particular is now fresh in my memory. You once asked me to write to you ; and I put it off from day to day, till at last 1 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 me ;" MARY JANE GRAHAM. 117 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 1 I glory in the thought, that you have a Friend, whose love is stronger than death, and a Com- forter, who is able to make you rejoice with joy unspeakable; and to whose blessing and influence we must refer it, that such poor, helpless, and sinful creatures as we are, can ever be of the slightest use in helping or comforting 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 no- thing of. Believe me — rather believe the Scriptures when they say — that every desire of the soul after God, is inspired by Himself, and is the fruit of His own free love in Christ j esU s — " I have loved thee with an everlasting love ; therefore with loving kindness have T 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, I will in no wise cast out." Now, do you not feel yourself drawn towards God 1 Does not your heart some- times choose Christ in preference to every earthly blessing 1 Do you not come to Christ in prayer, beseeching Him ,to re- ceive you ? And do not the texts 1 have mentioned, with a thousand others of the same import, warrant the inference — that you " come" to Christ, because " the Father has given you to Christ," and draws you to Him ; that He " draws you with loving kindness, because he has loved you with an ever- lasting love ;" and finally, that He will " never cast you out?" My dear friend, I would not, indeed I would not, flat- ter you with a false hope. 1 know of nothing so melancholy as the way in which the world say — " Peace, peace, to them- selves, 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 presumptuous 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 worthless, you could not be a fit object of Christ's grace, who says—" They Li 118 MEMOIR OF that be whole. need not a physician, but they that 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 per- haps I may deserve his favour.' Alas ! they know not that repentance and prayer are his free gifts, and instead of pray- ing 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 32d verse gives an awful de- scription of the state 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 I think every person awakened to a sense of sin, will perceive in it, as in a glass, their own image ; at least they will ac- knowledge, that the seed of every sin is in their heart, especially that most unnatural and truly diabolical sin, of" wor- shipping and serving the creature more than the Creator." And lest we should imagine that living in a country where 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 view of our state, in the sight of God, that he goes on to hold out free and unconditional salvation, to all who simply trust in the death and righteous- ness 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, he frankly forgave them all." It is when we are brought to this feeling, that we " have no- thing 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. Surely you and I feel MARY JANE GRAHAM. 119 ourselves to be in the situation of the debtor 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. I. do not know, that you have any reason for fancying that you shall die young ; but though the thoughts of death are useful to all, and delightful to those whose sins are forgiven for JesuV 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 incom- petent 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 anx- ious 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 answer- ing a few simple questions on a chapter they have read ; and in this way very little children 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, listen 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, " gathers the lambs with His arms, and car- ries them in His bosom." While explaining these things, they should be taught the text or texts referred to ; that so a portion of God's own word may be fixed on their hearts. I think, however, there is nothing more important than to stop as soon as the attention of our little hearers seem to tire. Sometimes the eldest may be set to teach the youngest some verse or hymn. Scripture prints also form a very good re- source for Sunday employment. Children are so artless, that we can soon perceive, what pleases them most; and what- ever kind of religious conversation or employment seems particularly to interest them, should be brought out on Sunday, to make it as pleasant a day as possible to them. 1 I hardly know how to say a word against Jeremy Taylor ; he is a great favourite of mine ; but I cannot help thinking his 120 MEMOIR OF views of the doctrine of Christianity savour too much of mo- nastic severity, and too little of the simplicity which is in Christ Jesus. The times he wrote in may account for these inconsistencies in the writings of so holy a man ; but 1 think they are calculated to increase the melancholy of any one who is unhappy about religion; because there is something so ob- scure 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 trutrT" may be with you, to " guide you into all truth." The weaknesses you own to me are exactly what I have felt, and do ieel myself; but God will 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, 1827. ' 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 be- come your God, and will be your Father and guide for ever. 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 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. "Bless- ed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness" — says this precious Saviour — "for they shall be filled." 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 own 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 121 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 for ever. Now you have nothing to do but to live upon the fulness of Jesus, casting away your own righteousness, which is no better than filthy 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 offers you as His free gift, Rom. v. 15, 21 — His strength, which is suffi- cient for you ; 2 Cor. xii. 9, 10. Eph. 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 you." You cannot ask too much ; for think of the great things the apostles asked, Eph. iii. 14 — 19; yet he concludes all by saying, " Unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think. 1 '' Dear , is not ours a happy lot 1 " If God be for us, who can be against us 1 ? Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect? It is God that justifieth :°who is he that condemneth 1 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 «s." 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 anf thing can afford me greater pleasure. * 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 united. 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 l 2 122 MEMOIR OF He will grant to us ; for it will last, when common friendship has been long withered by the hand of death. May you be blessed with every spiritual blessing, and rooted and ground- ed 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 feeling. It is a difficult question, and one which I am sure I am not fit to an- swer. Only I think, we may in some degree know whether our love is of the right kind or not, by asking ourselves wher ther it really is God that we love in our friends, and in our communion with them : whether we love those that are in Christ, incomparably more than those who are not in him ; and whether after all we could give up the society of the very best and dearest of them all, rather than lose one particle of God's favour. Surely we may love our friends, and that most dearly, for God requires it of us ; but then " he that loveth father or mother more than him, is not worthy of him." Love to our friends seems 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 affections God has given us, let us take comfort in the thought, that " we have not an high priest, who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities," " He knoweth our frame, he re- membereth 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 purpose 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 Epistle to the Hebrews of the twofold nature of the Lord Jesus, that I derive unspeak- able comfort from studying it. Scarcely any book makes me see so clearly that he is the Lord God, " dwelling in light in- accessible, whom no man hath seen or can see;" andyet 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. O if we could but dwell upon this wonder more ! it is " the wisdom of God, and the power MARY JANE GRAHAM. * 123 of God." " Angels desire to look into it ;" " the spirits of the just" are for ever learning 1 more about it; and I know of nothing 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 intimate- ly acquainted with him here. Let us be often conversing with 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 the intimate communion 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 of 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 but to backslide ; and I cannot help continually thinking of that bitter complaint of Job's : " O 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." 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 alien- ated from God, after having once known how sweet it is to love him ! Surely the character of long-suffering, so offen given to God in the Scripture, has never been manifested by any one in so many instances as to me. Let us not forget, dearest M — , to pray for one another, " that our hearts may be knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assur- ance 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 fol- lowing 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 shall be 124 MEMOIR OP 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 I, who have so often encouraged you in the greatest sin which a redeemed soul can commit ; that of indifference to the ser- vice and love of the Redeemer may now be an instrument in his hands to animate you to very different feelings. We have given way to a very unfaithful spirit in our fears, and in our repugnance to speak in his name. Let us only believe, that when he grants us the inestimable privilege of carrying to any one the blessed news of his gospel ; " it is not we that speak, but the Spirit of our Father which speak- eth in us." This feeling that we are nothing, but that he is every thing in us, would give us a confidence full of joy, and at the same time without pride. It is indeed the height of happiness 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 can- not 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 inde- scribable delight in being able to do all in Christ.' To her cousin she writes in this affectionate and encour- aging strain : — November 27, 1827. 1 Let me tell you, my dear friend, how sincerely and affec- tionately I sympathize with you in the feelings you express with regard to the most important of all subjects. My dear- est cousin, go on seeking. There are pleasures, rivers of pleasures, whereof the true Christian drinks with unspeaka- ble delight ; and in his own time Jesus, the good Shepherd, will lead you to these fountains of living water. Already he, who "called 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 willing, 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.' MARY JANE GRAHAM. 125 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 unsanctified mind, the resources of the world often aggravate suffering, instead of contributing sup- port. March 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 through Christ Jesus; and this will be in the presence of our best and dearest friend, who so loved us, as to " purchase us with his own blood." How happy, how very happy it would make me, 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 all 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 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 any thing, which brings with it such afflicting recollections. Yet 1 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," whom 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 affection must centre in him. And who is able to perform this condition 1 I am sure neither you nor I can; for we are carnal, and "the carnal heart is enmity 126 MEMOIR OF against God." Well then, my dear , let us simply be- lieve 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 poor, and blind ; and he " will fill our minds with joy and peace in believing," 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 the 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. O may he reveal himself to your soul, and give you such discoveries of his amazing love, as may constrain you to make him your " all in all." In another letter on the same subject, we find her taking her chair by the side of her afflicted friend, and, like a true daughter of consolation, " comforting her with the same com- fort, wherewith she herself had been comforted of God." January 18*A, 1828. * My very dear Friend, 1 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. My 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 uni- ted 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 that will turn your mourning into gladness. Perhaps this bereavement will lead you nearer to Jesus ; for we have an unfailing promise, that " all things shajl work together 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 re- buke 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 127 in our hearts. My beloved friend, I do not say these things to you, " because you know them not, but rather because you know them," and are, I 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." In the mean time may you be taught to lay hold on the gra- cious invitation to " call upon God in the time of trouble !" Make David's words your own — " From the end of the earth will 1 cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed ; lead me to the rock that is higher than I." " What time I 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 thou 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 comforteth, so will I comfort you." " In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment ; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer." I would not obtrude' my own words on you upon an occasion like this. But I may hope that the Spirit of truth will bless his words to 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 form 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, knowing that even the sympa- thy of friendship may sometimes be an interruption to our own feelings. But I now leave off, begging you to accept the warmest affection 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 affliction ! Though her letter affords some of her own beautiful thoughts, yet her main effort is perceptible 128 MEMOIR OP throughout ; not to strain her mind to force out something original or striking, but to bring forward the encouraging promises of Scripture, as far more powerful than the product of her own thought. This is honouring the word of God.'' The next letter relates personally to herself, and gives a lively description of her state of mind, with a happy transi- tion from her own playful spirit, to a more serious and edifying strain. April, 1827. 1 1 am sure that I am very old for my age. It is not com- mon at twenty-four to live upon the past as I do ; most peo- ple 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 every thing being ordered for my hap- piness ; 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 any thing. 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 weakness, all my vanity; however, all this does not cause him to forsake 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 spirit- uality of mind connected with the recollection of her literary pursuits. Chudleigh, Sept. 1827. ' You are then at , where you lead a very pleasant life, but where you are not happy, because he who is your happi- ness no longer cheers you with his presence. I also am very gay. I am here to my heart's content; and I 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 savour, and is no longer good for any thing, but to be thrown away and trodden under foot of men." But the infinite com- passion of Jesus will not suffer it to be so with us, and there- fore he causes us to feel incessantly bitter inquietudes, which MARY JANE GRAHAM. 129 will not suffer us to rest without returning to him. In the meantime we are both in a new place, which we shall per- haps never see again. Shall we quit this place without leav- ing there some savour 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, because I feel as I speak. I see it in my understanding, but it does not reach to my heart. However, I speak, because I desire to feel it, and that you should feel it too. I wish to love Tasso, and other studies, only for the love of God, and to give all to his service. But I love them too much for my- self; 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 great Apostle, with that painful conflict, which his own in- spired pen has so graphically described in Rom. vii. — a chap- ter, 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 a man can possess, yet there is a sort of self-know- ledge which only debases and hardens the soul ; and this is exactly the kind with which I am furnished. And whilst true self-knowledge introduces order and light into the soul, as when the sun enlightens the earth ; the self-knowledge which I possess rather resembles the lightning which shines for a moment, and shows all the desolation which the storm M 130 MEMOIR OF has produced, and which itself increases the desolation. To know oneself miserable, but not to be willing to use the means of being- happy ; to know oneself a sinner, but to flee from and abandon the Saviour of sinners, has been a true de- scription of my feelings." To her cousin she expresses some grounds of thankful recollection for Christians, who are called in " the 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 indulging 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 shined upon my head." Yet I cannot tell you that I enjoy any thing of really spiritual feeling. Oh! that has been too long stifled to awake at once to anything like life and vigour.* 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 Him- self. I 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 blessedness of being called in our youth to the knowledge of God, now that our feelings are fresh, and our habits unformed ; before we have entered into the pleasures, company, and temptations of the world. It seems as though we had through the mercy of our *The writer feels it right to notice this sentence as a subtle form of legality, very prevalent with young Christians, and not unknown to exercised Christians in a higher stage of maturity. The chastise- ment of the rod is indeed numbered among the rich provisions of the Everlasting Covenant; and usually the Lord makes the backslidings of his children the instruments of his salutary correction. [Jer. ri. 19.] But let us never seem to dictate to him the mode of his disci- pline, and especially let us not limit the absolute and unbounded freedom of the gospel, which opens the -way of immediate and com- plete acceptance to those who deserve a more protracted banishment from his favour. The expectation of an indefinitely distant return paralyzes the present effort ; while the freeness of mercy opens the door of instant hope for the most hopeless. [Isa. xliii. 23, 25,] and indeed produces the constraining motive to the first step of penitence. [Ib.xliv. 22.] MARY JANE GRAHAM. 131 Saviour, been turned into 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 tell you another light, which then struck me more forcibly than I had ever felt it before 1 Is it not a blessing to have been enabled to enter decidedly upon a life of religion, before we had formed any connexion contrary to it] Now every thing seems open be- fore us. The narrow path has been for us divested of half its difficulties ; and great will be our sin and misery, if we walk not in it with 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 en- joyment of her sources of legitimate pleasure in the work of God. Hastings, July 1823. 1 1 am no longer sad, unless a pleasure too profound for laughter or gaiety can be called sadness. There are times when I feel unhappy, because I am so happy — because I can derive such exquisite enjoyment from objects which pass away in a moment, whilst the things of eternal duration make only a light and free impression on my soul. I cannot how- ever forbid myself from enjoying the delights, which here pre- sent 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 respect only to the intellect, but which affect however all the rest of the life, and to which may be traced up almost all the intellectual qualities which that person possesses. It ap- pears 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 per- son.' The next letter gives a profitable application of Scripture, together with an interesting train of remark. June, 1823. 1 One text of Scripture has lately dwelt much upon my 132 MEMOIR OF mind, and seemed like a sentence of condemnation upon my worldly-mindedness and inconsistency. It is that short but expressive description of the conversion from sin — " And he rose up, and left all, and followed him." Oh ! what a warn- ing, 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 deeply-rooted habits, which can come in the way of this grand end, and to follow Jesus through affliction and difficulties, in all the meek sim- plicity and lowly dependence of a little child. May he give us strength thus to follow his loved footsteps ! May he en- able us to walk hand in hand, mutually encouraging and sup- porting each other, till we come to the presence of his glory, there to abide for ever ! 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 something too disagreeable to be real ; while I look forward to future hopes and schemes, till the dreams of my imagination assume the shape of de- lightful realities : and in stretching forward to them, I for- get, that it is only in the sober and continual routine of pre- sent duties, that I can hope to attain those delightful expec- tations.' 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, alludes to this point : Torquay, April \1, 1825. * How many ways there are of dishonouring the Christian profession ! some by ill humour ; we by coldness ; some by immoderate zeal ; others by the fear of man. Oh ! my dear friend, let us seek to ornament our profession ; let us seek in the unlimited compassion of our good Shepherd pardon for our past extreme lukewarmness, 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. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 133 April 30, 1827. * I can hardly tell you what a strange state I am in — one minute longing after holiness so intensely, that I feel as if I should die if 1 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 the extreme depravity of my heart and life. Every day I learn something new ahout my helpless- ness, blindness, and dreadful wickedness. But though I can spread these things before God in prayer, I cannot mourn over them ; or if 1 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 contrary answers I receive to prayer, though in the end 1 feel the dealings 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 striv#with a great enemy, who tramples me with the greatest ease under, his feet. Let me not unjustly murmur against my dearest and wisest Saviour. For he leaves me not long at the mercy of my cruel adversary, but appears on my behalf often when I have the least expectation of it. One thing 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 dullest thing in the world, and vain thoughts the pleasant- est ; 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 loveliness 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. O 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 m 2 134 MEMOIR OF birds. My dearest friend, I have chosen this verse for my portion, my treasure in this world and the next. I recom- mend it to you ; and I know God will give it to us, and abun- dantly 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 excellency : 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. May 15, 1827. 'I think I would give up every prospect of worldly happi- ness 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 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 al- lusion is worthy of special remark : Stoke, June 2, 1827. 4 1 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 w r ould drive them from his temple, 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 written 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, possibly, at seasons of temptation — tinctured with desponden- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 135 cy. From the tone of many of the preceding letters it is evi- dent, that she knew the fulness of her resources in the pro- mises of the Gospel : and in her prostrate humiliation of soul she did not cease to plead them to the uttermost of her war- ranted expectations. Thus she writes to her friend : 1 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 1 But what puzzles and alarms me is, that it should be sometimes intolerable, 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." 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 any thing 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 :) butthen we can no more open our mouths than we can fill them. God must open them wide, and fill them too. I feel so much comfort in thinking that we cannot open our mouths too wide ; we cannot be too greedy of heavenly food, nor too grasping of heavenly riches. It is not presumption, but faith and humil- ity, 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 is 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 every thing. 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 of our souls. Pray for me, and pray that I may be enabled to pray for you.' The darkness and conflicts of her mind, were doubtless 136 MEMOIR OF much increased 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, 1826. * 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 the singing of the birds is come, and that the voice of the celestial dove makes itself heard. I again begin to know what it is to walk, " as seeing him, who is invisible." But do not suppose that I am in a very spiritual state. 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 ef- fort to find again the lover and the beloved of our souls. Who knows but his own time may come, in which he will fully re7 veal 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 af- fects my health.' Her views of the power of faith in prayer were most enli- vening. * I never pray' said she one day to a dear friend 4 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 doxology, chap. iii. 20, 21, she added, 'What a prayer was this J 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 1 We are wanting in faith. We do not expect enough from God. Wfe are straitened in ourselves. We are not straitened in God. How much more should we receive, if we "continued instant in prayer," and " prayed without ceasing." We are like the king of Israel, who, when commanded by Elisha to smite on the ground,' provoked 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 enemies, but would have utterly destroyed them. Thus MARY JANE GRAHAM. 137 in our prayers we are contented with small success. We do not continue enough in the exercise. Even when our hearts have been somewhat enlarged, we have been too ready to de- sist, and rest satisfied without persevering, till we had received yet larger supplies of Divine grace.' To another friend she wrote in the same enlarged spirit of Christian expectancy : — May 15, 1827. * I see something of the love of Christ, which I would not lose for worlds. But neither do you or 1 see half that may be seen of it even in this world, if ice ask in faith. Only let us not be afraid of expecting too much. Let us stretch our prayers and expectations to the very uttermost of what " we can ask or think ;" and as sure as God is truth, we shall re- ceive " exceeding abundantly 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 fol- lowing letter, were clear and scriptural. July 4, 1827. 1 My mind is in a state of declension and deadness to spir- itual things, which is the more awful to me, from having en- joyed much communion with God a few weeks ago. I know not how to describe 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 disposi- tion 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 brought with any realizing sweet- ness to my heart, yet remains quite clear and unclouded 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 thou- sand and a thousand times upon the mercy of God in Christ Jesus. 1 have committed my soul to him ; and, though I am unfaithful and unbelieving, yet I know that he abideth ever faithful, to keep that which has once been committed to him. Besides — I have told him again and again — and that with ago- nizing earnestness, — what a weak backsliding heart I have entrusted to his care ; and that, if he does not hold me up, I 138 MEMOIR OF shall fall. And now 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 fall for ever ? Oh ! I cannot think so. I cling to my assurance, and cannot 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 confined 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 1 I have asked him for the Spirit of truth. Shall 1 think he has put me off with the spirit of delusion? This letter illustrates the true character of Christian con- fidence, 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 consolations of the gospel are be- *lieved, not because they are declared, but 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 faith — 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, yet will I trust in him." ^ Any encouragement however to be drawn from a past opera- tion of faith must be carefully connected with its present ex- ercise. Its first effort indeed linked the Christian's heart in in- dissoluble 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 earnestness and intensity of her mind clearly marked the active though unconscious influence of the habit of faith, even while her recollection 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 consider the character of her religion — self-sus- picious, jealous of declension, earnestly longing for communion with God, content with no ordinary measure of conformity to MARY JANE GRAHAM. 139 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 repose — but an habitual quickness of spiritual discernment, and dutiful watch- fulness. It was probably her intense solicitude for higher conformity to her Lord, that induced her, like holy Bradford, to pass this severe judgment upon herself, in the deep con- sciousness of her infinite distance from the ultimate point of attainment, and her sometimes apparent contrariety to it. Iniquity felt and iniquity allowed, are essentially different. When allowed, the soul is benumbed and blinded in compar- ative unconsciousness. When hated, the sensibility of its defilements is so keen, and the apprehensions of its guilt so afflicting, that even in a state of conscious acceptance, the soul is constrained to " write bitter things" against itself. The prostrate humiliating confessions of that holy saint of the Reformation just alluded to, in no degree hindered the peaceful rest of his soul upon the engagements of the faith- fulness and love of his God. We could not indeed but strongly discountenance an assur- ed confidence in a state of open sin, or in any habitually al- lowed inconsistency with a Christian profession. Yet we are persuaded that a personal assurance has. often proved the only chain of love that has restrained the backslider from total apostacy — from saying — " There is no hope — for I have loved strangers, and after them will 1 go." Often too has it been the appointed means of conviction and recovery from backsliding. A realized sense of a Father's love in the ten- derness and wisdom of merited chastening has pierced many a rebellious child with contrite sorrow, and has brought him back to his Father's feet with simplicity, gratitude and con- fidence. He is humbled and encouraged under the most dis- tressing consciousness of backsliding by the remembrance, that the principle and warrant of assurance is not in himself, and that his ground of confidence is unchangeably the same. 1 1 see,' said Miss Graham on one occasion, ' that God is my God in covenant. He is unchangeable, though I continually vary.' The duty and importance of an elevated enjoyment of scriptural privilege, are delightfully inculcated in the follow- ing letter. ' What a privilege (she observes, speaking of a blessed saint now in heaven), has Mrs. to be walking so closely 140 MEMOIR OF with God, and enjoying so much of his presence! "Oh! that I" thus always " knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his seat !" But I never had so little of his presence as now, and if it sometimes returns for a moment, the emotions of my mind seem almost more than I can bear, so that I dread, even while I long for, their recurrence. The true remedy for all this would be, that settled quiet peace, which is the effect of the righteousness of Christ. But this I want faith to lay hold of as my own. I have been surprised lately at the slighting, and almost suspicion, with which friends appear to look upon spiritual peace and joy, as if it were rather a snare to be guarded against, than a privilege to be sought after. Yet surely — " Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, rejoice," is as much a command as — " Thou shalt not kill — Thou shalt not steal." And I know nothing except this "joy of the Lord," which is said to be "our strength," that can so fill the heart, as to leave no room for rejoicing in self or in the world. And do you not think, that the more of this holy joy is " shed abroad in the heart," the more godly sorrow will dwell there 1 At least I find it to be so. They seem to me to be inseparable companions in our experience on earth. Were I to mention the sweetest ingre- dient in the cup of joy or sorrow (I scarcely know which to call it), that we are permitted to taste of here ; it would be the melting of the heart, which springs from that immeasura- ble unworthiness, which gives us some faint conception how low Christ has stooped to save us ! Why then should it be thought presumptuous to desire an abundant measure of the very thing which we are commanded to have 1 Why should this desire for "the peace of God which- passeth all under- standing," be construed into a dependence upon frames and feelings? 4 Sometimes I think we might have almost as much joy as there is in heaven, if we had but a holy boldness to ask for it, and to receive. We are not straitened in Christ; " but we are straitened in our own bowels;" so that, because joy is an undeserved guest in a heart defiled by sin, we dare not receive it as a lawful guest, though this heart has been cleansed with the blood of Jesus. But what will it be, my dearest friend, to open our eyes upon that world, where "per- fect love casteth out fear" for ever! I try to conceive it sometimes, but I cannot. There is nothing I find so difficult, as to imagine entire deliverance from the spirit of bondage. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 141 What will it be, to be " face to face" with Christ ; to " see him as he is;" to "see the King in his beauty," in "His own glory, in his Father's glory ;" and yet to look upon him without fear ! We had need have these earthly tabernacles taken down first; as they never could sustain it. And yet this is that death, at which even renewed human nature shrinks; though, if we could view it aright, it is but the shutting out of fear, and the letting in of perfect love for ever.' It is indeed to be feared, as Miss Graham has observed, that there is a class of professors among us, who depreciate the glowing exercises of Christian feeling. Their religion is rather of an intellectual, than of a spiritual character. They reason, explain, demonstrate, vindicate. But they are cau- tious of extremes. They realise the seriousness, importance, and restraints of the gospel, rather than its high privileges and constraining obligations. The exercise of their judg- ments, from this defect of a deep influence of spiritual reli- gion, materially checks the healthful and animating glow of their affections. Their views of the fundamental doctrines are generally orthodox, and they maintain a correct external deportment. But they appear to have a scanty enjoyment of that new-created taste and element of pleasure, which is con- nected with the revelation of the glory of God to the soul. They seem to be little conversant with the varied exercises of a devotional habit of mind — such as holy delight in com- munion with God, lively contemplation of the Saviour, spir- itual meditation and enjoyment of the sacred word, and heavenly aspiration of soul. Their ordinary Christian con- versation is restrained from that intimate and free communi- cation of spiritual sympathies, which infuses mutual warmth, refreshment, and energy in the endeavour, like Jonathan and David," " to strengthen each other's hands in God;" to unite in a closer intercourse with our Divine Saviour, and to invig- orate our purposes of consecration to his service. Such persons seem too little to consider the strong and im- portant connexion of religion with the affections. But it is only their lively and powerful exercise that is at all propor- tioned to the vast expanse and grandeur of the subject. We find, therefore, religion in heaven, where it exists in the most refined purity and perfection, is much engaged in the delight- ful affections of joy and love, and in the fervent expressions of these feelings in everlasting praise. The scriptural exhi- 142 MEMOIR OF bition of religion in the records of the most eminent servants of God, and in the rich display of the promises of Christ, is of the same glowing' character. The religion of the " man after God's heart" was a religion of the affections. Every natural affection of his soul was filled with God. In his book of Psalms, written with the pen of inspiration for the public use of the church, we behold him — not describing the proper individualities of his own ex- perience; but leading the worship of the universal church in the expression of deep humiliation, holy admiration, fervent love and joy in his God, earnest thirstings and pantings for his presence, delight in his ordinances, devout acknowledg- ments for his unbounded mercy, and exulting triumph in his faithful love. The book of Canticles also — however we may refrain from a minute consideration of some of its imagery — exhibits those vigorous exercises of spiritual affections, which are consonant to the experience of the lively Christian, and which excite in him no common measure of admiring, trust- ing, and grateful love to his Divine Saviour. The corres- ponding New Testament development of Christian privilege embraces those high and heavenly blessings, which draw out the affections of the soul into exciting employment — such as M peace with God," constant " access" to his presence and favour; rejoicing in hope of his glory; glorying in tribula- tions, as the path-way thither ; " the love of God, shed abroad in the heart ; and the enjoyment of God through our Lord Jesus Christ;" all of which are presented to us in a single view, as our present portion and source of happiness. If therefore we acknowledge the gospel in its faith and ob- ligations, while defectively apprehending and estimating its privileges — if our judgment has been informed and establish- ed without a full and habitual exercise of the affections, we stand convicted of an imperfect reception of Christ, and of possessing only a partial interest in his unspeakably rich en- joyments. The class of professors, to whom we more imme- diately allude, are little aware of the extent of loss to their own souls, or of evil to the church, from their neglect of seat- ing religion more deeply and powerfully in their affections. The spiritual tone of their religion is materially deteriorated. The refreshing influences of the ordinances is weakened. The Holy Comforter is restrained in his intimate communion with their souls. A want of tender sensibility for the most part characterizes their profession. The careless but discern- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 143 ing world mark no perceptible elevation of heavenly charac- ter, and are led to think that the promised privileges of the Gospel are a delusive paradise. And professors of their own class gladly take shelter under this lower standard of the cross, as a respectable Evangelical religion, precluding them from many inconvenient sacrifices, to which a more decided exhibition of Christian devotedness might have subjected them. This restraint upon the affections, brings us therefore into a lower atmosphere of the gospel, unvisited with the full power of its holy influence. This may readily account for that conformity to the principles, habits, and conversation of the world, which to a considerable extent is connected with an Evangelical profession. The enlivening power of faith, operating through the medium of the affections, would secure a triumphant victory in every form of worldly conflict, and en- able the disciples of Jesus boldly to confess their Master's name, to glory in his cross, and to delight in his service. But this is the " one thing" that is too often " lacking :" and for which, as a principle of entire consecration to Christ, no substitute can be found. Let us not however, while insisting upon the connexion of the gospel upon the affections, be supposed to advocate a re- ligion of impulse or sensation. We are aware that excited feelings are no proof of holy affections. Much that passes under the name of religious feeling, is the ebb and flow of the animal emotions, wholly unconnected with the spiritual principle. Those emotions alone are of Divine origin, on which practical holiness are engrafted ; and which are not sought for the pleasurable excitement of the moment, but as a medium for the exercise of heavenly affections, and for the exhibition of self-denying obedience. We remember also, that the first excitement of a religious feeling, is very differ- ent from that feeling as a fixed habit of the mind under the controul of a sound judgment. The example of the primitive Christians lead us to combine intelligence and energy with feeling, and therefore to suspect the most delightful emotions, which do not bring the steady light from heaven into the daily path, which do not communicate vigour, activity, and decision to the character, and that are not connected with a dedication of the whole man to the service of God. Religion is the dominant practical principle in the soul ; and its prac- tical results are the legitimate evidence of the genuineness of 144 MEMOIR OF the principle. Any encouragement from the past exercise of the affections, irrespective of their present practical influence, must therefore be discountenanced. And even this influence satisfactorily ascertained must be controlled by the dictates of a spiritually enlightened judgment. We would call the judgment into constant exercise, under the influence of Chris- tian motives. We would regulate " the Spirit of love," un- der the controul of " the Spirit of a sound mind." We would have "love" always to "abound in knowledge and in all judgment." Only let it " abound yet more and more." Let it not be chilled, damped, fettered. Let us guard against that frosty elevation of intellect, which seems to regard reli- gion as an Alpine plant, the growth only of a cold climate. Let us not separate it from that exciting glow of love, in which we are quickened to a sense of our obligations, sus- tained under our daily trials, and are raised in our present privileges and prospective anticipations above the baneful in- fluence of " the course" and spirit " of this world." Constitutional causes must however be well considered — while insisting upon the strong influence of religion upon the affections. Intellectual character" is not always embued with natural sensibilities ; while on the other hand a sympathetic tone of character is easily excited. It is obvious that both these require larger measures of Divine influence — the one, that the man may enter into the delight of Christian feeling — the other, that natural tenderness may be braced up to firm- ness and stability: in both cases — that they may judge each other charitably. But " the love of God must be shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost" or we are not, we cannot be, Christians. We would beg however shortly to advert to depreciation of scriptural privilege of a very different character. There are some who stand even upon lower ground than intellectual professors. They are satisfied with a small portion of spirit- ual enjoyment, and even that this modicum should be occa- sional, not constant. They have no conception of any internal religion answering to the wrestling vigilance, by which " the kingdom of heaven is taken by force." The warmth of first impressions subsides as a matter of course ; not however into a matured and solid effectiveness, but into luke-warmness and inertion. If they be the children of God in a Laodicean state, they will probably be roused by sharp afflictions, to a zealous and penitent profession of their Master's name, and MARY JANE GRAHAM. 145 by this wise and loving dispensation, be quickened to hear the voice of their Lord, and introduced into the full enjoy- ment of communion with him. It is however evident, that every form of the indulgence of sloth, every allowance of un- belief, and the influence of obscure apprehension of the gos- pel, operate prejudicially to the interests of the church and of true religion. For thus religion is presented to the world in a false and unattractive garb. The standard of holiness is lowered in the defect of that enlivening sense of redeeming love, which conciliates, engages, and captivates the heart. Little is known of that support of the promises of God, which over-balances all difficulties, real and apparent, and adds more to the enjoyment of life, than suffering can take away. This evil will be generally traced, except in cases of moral delinquency or constitutional weakness, to the secret root of self-righteousness. The simplicity of faith in the contempla- tion of its great object is obscured by an undue and unevan- gelical dependence upon evidences. These, though they have their legitimate use as the confirmation of our hope, must have no connexion with its foundation. When the perception of clear evidence is deficient (as in times of temptation espe- cially is often the case), faith, leaning upon his ever-chang- ing support, becomes uncertain, unsettled, and unfruitful. Whereas under the darkest destitution of internal sources of comfort, the offer, invitation, encouragement, and promise of the gospel, addressed to sinners is an unfailing and sufficient warrant, such as nothing in ourselves can make more com- plete. Let then faith be distinctly and explicitly exer- cised. Let clear apprehensions of the ground of comfort be diligently sought. Let the testimony of the word, not the feelings of our heart, be the foundation of our hope. Let Christ be regarded as the only fountain of life, light and con- solation. Thus will " Grace and peace be multiplied unto us through the knowledge of God, and of Jesus our Lord." We close this section with giving at some length, and with interesting variety of illustration, Miss Graham's sentiments upon Conformity to the World; a subject of vital moment to the integrity, consistency, and fruitfulness of the Christian profession. The first letter commences with a few remarks, not imme- diately relevant to the subject, but which will be read with interest. n 2 146 MEMOIR OP Stoke, Feb. 21, 1827. 4 It seems to me that all the Lord's dealings with his re- deemed children speak this language — " Cease ye from man." Put not your trust in any earthly comforter. Lean not on any arm but the arm of your Beloved. " For the hearts of the people" of this world " are full of idols." Self is the great idol, that is loved and honoured more than God. Then comes a multitude of lesser things, all subservient to this one; and if some little corner in the heart is reserved for God, or if the shadow of a throne is set up, where he may sit on solemn occasions, at the pleasure of the great idol, then they think all is going on well ; and God loved as much as he could reasonably expect to he loved by creatures who have such a press of business on their hands. But, my beloved friend, we may not do so. God has purchased us for his own inheritance, will have our whole heart and our whole dependence ; and though we must rejoice in the friends he gives us, yet we must not think we cannot do without them ; or that we should go on better, if we had more of their help. Christ is all- sufficient, and teaches, comforts, and reproves in his own time and way, and by his own means, without any need of our direction. In looking back to every event of my life, since I have known something of the grace of God, I find that there never has been any thing on which I very much depended, but God has straightway removed or embittered that thing, or in some way made it useless to me, till I re- turned to place my whole dependence on him. But let us not accuse our dearest Lord of acting unkindly towards us in sending these disappointments ; for he only takes away other helps and props, to make room for himself. He loves us too well to suffer any rival in our affections. * I have read your letter over and over, and scarcely know how to answer it, or what to make of it. O that you had some better counseller than I ! for 1 know not how to advise you. I fear lest you should think me strict and gloomy, if I tell you all I think ; but I will tell you, since you desire it ; and I know that God is able and willing too to give you joys so much superior to every worldly amusement, that you will wonder you could ever think them worth a thought. I must say then, that the world and worldly amusements, appear to me quite inconsistent with the character of a real Christian; and that we never can enjoy happy converse with God till we give them up. The Christian is described in the Scriptures, MARY JANE GRAHAM. 147 as " the temple of the living God." Now where the holy- God takes up his abode, surely that heart must be sanctified and set apart from every common use, wholly devoted to his service. But can God and the world reign in the same heart, or as it were reign by turns 1 Shall we admit the Lord of glory in the morning, and shut him out in the evening, while we are going to a ball or a play 1 for we may be well assured he will not go with us there. The spirit of the world, which reigns in such places, is quite opposite to his Spirit; and "the friendship of the world," which is there sought, "is enmity with God." I know this would be called uncharita- ble ; but I do not wish to be more charitable than the Bible : and surely experience proves it to be true ; for go into any fashionable assembly whatever, and there begin to speak of those things of which we ought to talk, "when we are sitting in the house, and when we walk by the way, and when we lie down, and when we rise up ;" and see if polite- ness itself can suppress a smile at your strange and unwarrant- able impertinence, in forcing the attention of the company to subjects, which they are met for the very purpose of forgetting. No, my dear friend, that cannot be a proper place for a Chris- tian, where religion is the thing that, must not be named ; and where even something in our hearts will tell us, that such subjects are oat of place. Neither can you say, your own heart may be as well employed there as elsewhere; for the very sweetest meditation on heavenly things (if we could thus meditate in the midst of vanity) would be spoiled by the thought, that there were none who enjoyed like communion with ourselves ; and we should soon have to " seek with Joseph a place to weep in," to weep over our companions and friends, who are thus "feeding on ashes," delighting themselves in things which cannot profit. The fact is, when Christians are at a place of worldly amusement (if Christians are to be found who will venture themselves so unguardedly into Satan's strong places), they must either have heavenly thoughts (and then the amusement would appear so vapid, disgusting, and uninteresting, that they would never be able to stay it out), or else, if the amusement is an amuse- ment to them, it fills their hearts with a crowd of vain thoughts, shuts out Christ, and lets in self and the world, and so prepares room for doubts, and fears, and much bitter repent- ance, before the Spirit will again shine upon a heart which has so wantonly despised his grace. 14S MEMOIR OP But many will say — ' All this may take place if we stay at home ;' our worldly hearts may let in many intruders there ; and we may be compelled to own, that we should have been as well at any place of public resort, as in our own room, with no one to talk to but. our own heart. This, I confess, is our shame and misery, that we are so often entangled in vain and worldly thoughts. But surely it does but make the argu- ment stronger against indulging in any thing which tends to foment such thoughts. If we are so weak, why go into temptation, against which the strongest have not been able to stand ? We may fall into a worldly frame of mind in the absence of any worldly pleasures; but, because we have got a cruel enemy within, shall we go and expose ourselves to the attacks of the enemy without 1 Let us at least have the comfort of not having gone in quest of our misery. Tempta- tions enough will come to us ; let us not go to them. Besides, it seems to me but mocking our Father which is in heaven, to say one hour — " Lead us not into temptation" — when we have coolly made up our mind to rush into it the next. From the evil of such a temptation, can we hope that he will deli- ver us 1 Let me draw your attention to the sweet precept of our Lord — " Let your l«ins be girded about, and your lights burning ; and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their Lord, when he will return from the wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh, they may open to him immediately !" Now, dear , I am sure you would not choose, that your Lord should come for you, while engaged in worldly amuse- ments ; nor would you feel, that he found you watching ; nor would you be ready to " open immediately ,•" but would rather ask time to collect your scattered thoughts, and trim your wasted lamp. If we were to ask the blessed in heaven, or the tormented in hell, what they think of such employments, would not the one smile with pity at the question, and the other exclaim with rage — ' O that I had but one of those hours you are thus throwing away ! You should see whether I would let the precious moments pass in such vanities as these !' Forgive me, if I have said too much. Indeed I should tremble for you, going into such a difficult situation, if I did not know, that God can take as much care of you there, as in a more retired place. * I do earnestly desire, that the blessing of a single eye and undivided heart may be yours. There is no comfort in being an undecided Christian; and Christ himself has declared MARY JANE GRAHAM. 149 that such a character is hateful to him. But this will not be the case with you : He who has helped you thus far, will go on leading you by the hand, till he has brought you to glory. You ask me — ' How we are to wean our hearts from the world V I know no other answer, but that which the Scrip- ture gives. A believing view of Jesus must make the world look dark and insignificant: and whenever we begin to love it too much, we have only to apply to him, who has said to us — "Be of good cheer; I have overcome the world;" and his mighty power shall be put forth to enable us to overcome it also. I used to make many resolutions against a worldly spirit, and try many ways to break myself of it; and these resolutions were repeatedly broken; but now I have but one way ; I try to take my heart to Jesus, believing that the vic- tory is already mine for his sake. ' Lord, thou hast promised that " sin shall not have dominion over me." Thou hast said, that every one that is "born of thee overcometh the world." FuMl thy gracious promise, and make me " more than conqueror" in thy might! Thou hast "given thyself for my sins, that thou mightest deliver me from this present world ;" and wilt thou now leave me to be taken captive by this evil w T orld 1 O dear , the faithful God must become like unto lying, promise-breaking man, before he can refuse to help his servants, who thus cast themselves on his word of promise; and disclaim all wisdom, strength, and goodness but his. The world and the things of the world, as " a strong man armed, who keepeth his goods in peace," must continue to have possession of our hearts, till Christ, who is " stronger than" the world, break in, and claims the house of the strong man, as a mansion for his Spirit to dwell in. Cast yourself then without fear upon the free mercy of God in Christ Jesus. The more worldly and wicked you feel yourself to be, the more he is concerned to' show his power and faithfulness in saving you from your worldliness and wickedness.' The next letter upon the same subject was written shortly afterwards to another correspondent, whom she regarded with the most lively affection, as having been made instrumental in communicating to her soul the knowledge and love of her Saviour. March 22, 1827. 'You must, I think, have misunderstood my meaning about worldly company and amusements. J^et us but have a right 150 MEMOIR-OF motive for doing so, and I think we may safely go into any company whatever. The word of God affords us two valu- able rules for all our actions, and if we could set them always before our eyes, I believe we should seldom be at a loss as to the conduct we ought to pursue. "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God. And — whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him." Let us then always ask ourselves, before we set about any stud) 7 , or employment, or enter into any company — 'Am I doing this " to the glory of God % n Is it my sole, or at least my principal motive ? Can I " do it in the name of the Lord Jesus !" Can I boldly say — it is such an action as he would approve of? And can I look up to him all the time I am do- ing it, for his sanction and blessing !' If you can answer this question satisfactorily, the action, whatever it be, must be right; and there can be no danger attending the perform- ance of it. If, on the contrary, your mind recoils from even asking such a question, be assured there is something wrong in it, and that you would do well to give it up. It is a hard lesson to our carnal hearts, but one which the love of Jesus can make easy to us ; that from the moment we take refuge at the cross of Jesus, and are "washed from our sins in his blood — from that happy moment we are "no longer our own," and must make it our one business to " glorify God in our body and spirit, which are God's." This seems to me the great and marked distinction between the Christian and the world- ling. The one lives to himself; the other "to him who died for him and rose again." The one consults his own pleasure, ease, and safety, " leans to his own understanding," and seeks his own glory. The other prays that his will may be quite swallowed up in the will of Jesus, " ceases from his own wisdom," and makes " Christ his wisdom." He no longer " receives the honour which cometh of man ;" but desires that Christ, the Author of all his good things, may have all the glory of them. His fleshy nature, or — as St. Paul calls it, the old man — strives hard against this, and would lead him to please and honour himself again ; and this is the great conflict between the flesh and the spirit, which makes the Christian life so truly called a warfare. This conflict has already begun in you, my dearest friend, and will never cease, till death takes you from sense and self, to where you shall see Jesus as he is, and wonder that you could ever prefer any MARY JANE GRAHAM. 151 thing- to him. No wonder you find it a hard and strange conflict. Parting- with self-seeking-, self-honouring' and-self- righteousness, is far more painful, than cutting- off a right hand, or plucking out a right eye. " With man indeed this is impossible; but with" Jesus "all things are possible." Taking this consideration with us then, that Christ — not self — is to be the end of all our actions, and that " whether we eat, or drink," or speak, or go in or out, or are alone or in company, engaged in study or recreation, we must "do all to the glory of God,'' and " in the name of the Lord Jesus" — I think it will give us a very different view of our duty as to worldly company and employments, from any that worldly wisdom or policy can give us. It cannot be, however, for the glory of God, that we should show ourselves morose and unsociable. The friends and re- lations we have are his gifts, and therefore must not be des- pised or neglected. Besides, we ought to bear in mind, that the redeemed of Christ are "the salt of the earth," "a pe- culiar people," created anew in Christ Jesus for the very pur- pose of " showing forth his praises ;" and how can we do this, if we shut ourselves out altogether from the world 1 It is false humility, which makes us say — ' I can never do any good,' — for the meaner the instrument, the more is the glory of God displayed in doing good with it; and as it is all God's doing and not ours, we have no reason to be proud of it, but rather to be abased at the sight of our own unfitness. I own to you, that I consider it the greatest blessing to a worldly family to have but one Christian among them (though I know they think it a sad interruption;) for who can tell but God may hear the prayers and tears of that one, and make him or her the messenger of peace to the rest 1 Thus far then, I think it must be right to go into worldly company, in the discharge of relative duties not plainly inconsistent with the word of God ; or to avail ourselves of any providential opportunities of Christian usefulness. Let us however be careful, that our own spiritual state is not affected by it ; for we can never be required to enter into any thing to the hurt of our own souls. But on the other hand, my dear friend, I think, if we really love Christ, this occasional mixing with worldly company will be rather a sacrifice than a pleasure to us. For think, what it is to go amongst worldly people " in the name of the Lord Jesus," and "to the glory of our God." Even if we do not feel ourselves called on to speak to them 152 MEMOIR OF directly on the subject; still, if we keep this aim in view, in how many little things must we show that our sentiments are opposite to theirs! and if they know that we profess religion, we may be almost sure, that they view us with secret dis- like and contempt; for "the carnal heart is" and always will be " enmity against God" and his people. I have sel- dom been into worldly company, without feeling either very uncomfortable all the time I was in it, or very unhappy as soon as I came out of it ; for if God enabled me to keep his glory in view, the sight of so many soul§ perishing in a vain confidence of their own safety ; the sense of my inability to speak properly to them ; the consciousness that in many cases at least they would gladly have dispensed with my company, all these things could not but make me uncomfortable — not unhappy ; because, supposing that I was In the clear path of duty — in the midst of vain company and sad reflections, I could still hold communion with Jesus. But when I lost sight of this great end, O dear , I wish I could point to you the anguish I have endured, that you might avoid dis- honouring your Saviour as I have done ! Very, very often this has been my wretched case : — ' What will people think of me, if I set up to be so much better than others V This ensnaring question has often made me put on a levity of sen- timent and manner, which I did not at first feel, but which, persisted in, has become real ; and I have been in heart as well as in appearance, the worldliest of the worldly. And when even I have returned home, God has often seen fit to visit this sin, by leaving me still to backslide in heart, and to be " filled with my own ways ;" and when I have come to myself, (for he has never quite left me, nor ever will,) how can I describe the bitterness of thinking, that I had done dis- honour to the cause of my only friend, lost the sweet sense of his redeeming love, missed many opportunities of saying a word which he might have blessed, and by my light and fool-- ish conduct given occasion to the world to think, that reli- gion was a thing in word only, not in power ! * I have told you my experience ; but I believe it is more or less what every Christian feels ; only few have been so very guilty in this respect as I have. Even now, though I know, that all these sins are washed away in my Redeemer's blood, I cannot reflect without the deepest self-abhorrence on the vain and foolish conduct I often indulged in at , par- ticularly the sin of evil speaking, which I gave way to there MARY JANE GRAHAM. 153 more than any where. I might add that of sabbath-breaking. Do not think that I mean to lay it to their charge ; O no, I only mean, that by going into the society of worldly people, if I may so say, without my armour on, I became as vain as they ; and much more sinful ; because I sinned against light and grace. Surely then, if we consider these drawbacks, worldly people will not be our chosen companions ; and we shall go among them when we do, as a duty rather than a pleasure. ' With regard to the theatre, and amusements of this kind, Christians must have little to do, if they can find time for them. But if they could find time, I confess I am at a loss to see what business they can find there. Are not the senti- ments usually uttered in such places quite in opposition to the precepts of God's word \ Are not pride, vain glory, self-de- struction, hatred, dissipation, unlawful attachments, held up to our admiration in many theatrical compositions, considered as trivial faults in most of them, and detested upon right prin- ciples in none 1 You profess as a Christian to make Jesus your happiness. What can you find here to bring you into communion with him 1 You profess to make his glory your aim. Can you then sit with complacency, and hear a com- pany of your fellow-creatures, with immortal souls, uttering sentiments which only tend to make them despise Christ and his ways 1 But I will leave the subject, dear , only adding, that I do not wish you to give up this amusement from what 1 say, but from the settled conviction of your own mind, after prayer for Divine teaching. If then you find, tiiat you can neither " do it to the glory of God, or in the name of Jesus," I will not try to dissuade you from it. I was once induced to attend ' Matthews at Home,' and shall never forget the sensation I felt, when he told us how his fa- ther, who was a good kind of man, but too religious, had tried to keep him from coming on the stage. When I looked round, and saw the merriment expressed in every face, I could not help saying to myself, 'This is no place for me; there are no lovers of Christ here ; for " charity rejoiceth not in in- iquity," as these poor deluded people are doing.' 'And now, my dearest friend, I have proposed many pri- vations to you ; and what have I to offer you in return 1 Nothing but the love of Jesus ; nay, that is yours already ; for if you are enabled to give these things up, it will be — not that he may love you, but because he has loved you. The 154 MEMOIR OF blessed spirits above want nothing else to make them happy; and we soon hope to taste their happiness ; hut if it cannot make us happy here, then heaven itself would not make us happy. O let us pray for this love. Let us cast pff the spi- rit of bondage, and not come to God as slaves who must serve him ; but as his redeemed children, who love to serve him, and who find his " service perfect freedom." Let us pray that more of " the love of God may be shed abroad in our hearts." Let us beseech the Holy Ghost to " take of the things of Jesus, and show them to us." Let us study all the sweet relations in which he has revealed himself to us in the Scrip- tures, Father, brother, friend, husband, lover. Here is per- petual and rational study for us ; and the more we follow it, the sweeter we shall find it. It is but a little ray of this love that as yet has warmed my heart ; yet 1 can tell you, dearest and most beloved friend, that it is worth renouncing ten thousand worlds for. The Lord Jesus has sometimes drawn near to me with such unspeakable sweetness, that I have thought all the lovely relations of life, father, husband, friend, had no beauty in them, except as they served to shadow forth the immense love of our reconciled God in Him, and the near and intimate communion to which he admits his chosen and redeemed people. O my friend, he has chosen you! What a wonder of love is here ! He has redeemed you, at the price of his own precious blood, "from this evil world." Will you linger in it any longer 1 God forbid ! May the Spirit of God " fill you with such peace and joy in believing," as may make the world and the things of it appear to you in their true light! Remember, this is not your home. We are " strangers and pilgrims" here. Let not the world see, that the joys of the love of Christ, and communion with him, are not enough to occupy us, without having recourse to the many vain and trifling ways they have invented of killing time, and driving eternity out of their thoughts. If we want strength, there is fulness of strength and grace treasured up for us in Jesus ; and we have only to seek it by earnest prayer. I wish you would pray for more experience of his love to you. This would convince you more than all the arguments in the world of the vanity of every thing, which can tend to divert your mind from him. In seeking his love, may you be able to say with Jacob — "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." I shall look for your next very anxiously. Do not let the words ' affected,' ' precise,' ' hypocrite,' l enthusiast,' MARY JANE GRAHAM. 155 «fool,' 'madman,' and many other epithets, which perhaps you will hear lavished upon the followers of the Lamb, dis- courage you from making his cause and people your own. I cannot but remind you— that " all who will live godly in Christ Jesus, must suffer persecution." Not perhaps open persecution now, but ridicule, dislike, sneering, either open or secret, must be your lot, if you determine to " be not con- formed to this world." We must not think it hard, or be angry or disheartened, if these things come upon us ; for our Master was " a scorn and a derision to all around him." ' Do not cease to love me, and think of me always, dearest , as your most affectionately and entirely attached. ' P. S. I earnestly join in your wish, that this may be the commencement of a new and blessed period of your life. May every future year see us walking more closely and more humbly with God.' In a third letter to her cousin about a month subsequent, she again reverts to her Scriptural Rules. April 20, 1827. * I feel exceedingly at a loss, my dear friend, how to an- swer your interesting question — " What is the meaning of giving up the world %" For I do not consider, that giving up the world consists in renouncing its amusements, its com- pany, its pursuits, so much as in putting off its temper and spirit, that we may put on the spirit and temper that was in Christ Jesus. W T hen the spirit of the world is thus ex- changed for the spirit of Christ, the amusements and gaieties of the world, must (not perhaps all at once, but gradually and surely) come to be extremely vain and unsatisfying in our opinion. For though the word "communion with God" is considered as the mere creation of an enthusiastic imagina- tion, yet if we will allow the Scriptures to be true, we must allow that there is such a thing as '* holding fellowship with the Father and the Son," as " walking with God" day by day "in perfect peace," as "having Christ living in us," and " his Holy Spirit abiding in us ;" for by this, and by this only can we know that we are in Christ, even by his Spirit which abideth in us. Now let us suppose a person enjoying — not the flights of a false and self-seeking devotion—but real, sober, scriptural converse with God, and that daily; must not this be a happiness superior to any the world can give ] See what David thought of it—" As the hart panteth 156 MEMOIR OF after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirstcth for God, for the living God : Thou, O Lord God, art the thing that I long for. Whom have I in heaven but thee 1 ? and there is none upon earth I desire besides thee. My soul breaketh for the longing that it hath unto thy judg- ments at all times. In God is my salvation and my glory ; the rock of my strength, and my refuge is in God. My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips, when I remember thee," &c. &c. And so in a thousand songs of love has David left on record what he thought of u communion with God." What must have been Job's view of the subject, when he said — " My friends scorn me, but mine eye poureth out tears unto God. O that I knew where I might find him ! that I might come even to his seat ! I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments !" — Isaiah's — when he said, " O Lord, the desire of our soul is unto thy name, and to the remembrance of thee ! With my soul have I de- sired thee in the night ; yea, with my spirit within me will I seek thee early !" But I need not multiply proofs of what seems to need no proof — that communion with his Creator is the best, and noblest, and happiest thing of which a creature is capable. Then will not they who enjoy this communion, very carefully avoid whatever may tend to rob them of it ? They will soon find that converse with the world (unless as far as duty or necessity lead them to it) is not compatible with converse with God : for if they conform to this world's habits and opinions, they deprive themselves of all scriptural claim to hope that God dwells in them, and they in him. But if, on the contrary, they are " transformed in the spirit of their minds," tbey will soon find that the world will dislike or ridicule them. But until we are delivered from the spirit of the world, I cannot see how we can reasonably be expected to see any harm whatever in the customs of the world. Let the world that dwells and rules within be deposed, and the world without will soon lose its undue influence over us. But, dearest , let us " stick to" the Scriptures as our rule and standard in every thing, (thus our doubts upon every sub- ject will be quickly satisfied) ; and let us study them with prayer, that he, "who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, would shine into our dark hearts, to give them the knowledge of the glory" of the gospel of God. We shall not ask in vain; for " God giveth wisdom liberally, and without MARY JANE GRAHAM. 157 upbraiding-." May he give you that " wisdom which is from above;" since not all the wisdom of this world can find out God. There are in the sacred word two rules, which, if kept in view, might be a lamp to guide our feet in the darkest and most perplexing moments — " Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.'''' " Whatever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." Now in going to a ball, or a play, merely to indulge my own vanity, or gratify my own inclination, I could not say — I am "doing this to the glory of God"— I could not set about it "in the name of the Lord Jesus;" therefore as a Christian, I think I have no right to do it at all. But if any one could go to the glory of God, I cannot dispute their right to going. In visiting my friends, and spending a little intercourse in social converse with them, I have no feeling of this kind to draw me back ; for God has given us our friends, and there- fore requires us to be active in every social duty; and reli- gion has done little for us, if it has taught us to be more mo- rose and unsociable ; for the very soul of religion is to live not to ourselves, but to others. Still I think as far as we can, we should choose our friends rather among the friends of God, than among the friends and followers of the world. You mention music ; — so far from thinking it wrong in all cases, I think, in my own, it is absolutely a religious duty to pursue music, as far as my health will permit ; and I think the same with regard to you. But supposing we had no particular object in studying it, still I think that music, as affording a pleasing and innocent source of amusement to ourselves and others, cannot be considered wrong, though I should think it wrong to give more than a very moderate time to it, or to let it encroach upon any other duty. For a real Christian — to say the least of it — has so great a work in hand ; so many really important and interesting objects daily solicit his attention, excite his energies, and set every faculty of soul and body to work ; that he or she can have very little time to throw away upon mere amusements. I have given you my opinion as well as I can, because you asked me, not because lavish or expect you to be guided by it; for I am persuaded, that if you continue searching the Bible with earnest prayer, God himself will lead you into every good and pleasant way. I have known many religious people, who have not seen the necessity of separating them- selves entirely from the world at first ; but I never knew any o 2 158 MEMOIR OF one who did not see it at last. Let me then close this subject, dearest , by calling- to your remembrance that encourag- ing invitation in Corinthians: "Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, and will 'be a Fa- ther unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty." These letters will, we think, be admitted to discuss this important subject with much Christian wisdom and spiritu- ality. Here are no harsh sweeping denunciations, but a plain reference to the rules of Christ ; to the general princi- ples, taste, and spirit of the gospel ; and to the test of con- science and experience. Two particulars are worthy of spe- cial remark — her principle, and her rules. Her principle is the superior attractiveness of the gospel, as the only effectual opposition to a worldly spirit — * A be- lieving view of Christ' — as she justly observed — ' must make the world look dark and insignificant.' The merchantman would never have suffered his " goodly pearls" to be snatch- ed from him ; but the first sight of " the pearl of great price" was sufficient inducement to him gladly to relinquish them. The apostle would never have yielded up his good name in the church with all his other sources of gain to the persua- sive power of argument. But " the excellency of the know- ledge of Christ Jesus his Lord" once manifested to his soul, made what before was his all, now " loss" — yea — " dung" in his sight. Thus in every case, simple faith is the princi- ple of Christian decision. It is often a ground of self-delusive complaint — ' If we were less entangled with the world, we should reach to far higher attainments in the excellency of this heavenly know- ledge.' This is doubtless a truth. Yet the converse is per- haps the most accurate and important statement. It is because we know so little of Christ, that we are so much entangled with the world. Here we have the radical principle of the evil laid open. General and superficial views of our glorious Saviour offer but a feeble resistance to the mighty, subtle, and incessant operation of a worldly, spirit. Deep, self-abas- ing, and spiritual apprehensions of the gospel must be perse- veringly sought for, and maintained in constant exercise under Divine teaching and grace. To the heart thus attracted to Christ by the active contemplation of faith — the world in its most alluring forms, will ever be a crucified object, an MARY JANE GRAHAM. 1 59 object of shame and revulsion. And if this heavenly con- templation be followed out in all his relations to us of infinite tenderness and love, how will it cover us with shame, that a moment should ever have been found for any other object of paramount desire, affection, and interest ! We must however carry this powerful principle of faith into all the particulars of practical application. We must not forget the supreme authority of the Scriptural commands for non-conformity to the world ; nor must we refrain from rebuking whatever ap- pears to us in detail, to be inconsistent with these commands. But except our remonstrances are grounded upon th^full and clear principles of the gospel, we shall — instead of "laying the axe to the root of the tree" — only prune the branches for more luxuriant fruitfulness. The worldly taste may he re- strained — but not subjugated ; and the heart, if it be even partially drawn from the world, will be turned to self-righteous- ness, not to Christ. As to Miss Graham's rules, it is a vain attempt to fix pre- cise limits to every particular act. Yet the Scriptural rules which she has adduced, may be brought to bear upon every difficulty ; and if the application of them will not make us infallibly right, it will at least preserve us from being mate- rially wrong. The force of relative obligation as an ordi- nance of God is in clear conformity with these rules, and as such is strongly inculcated by Miss Graham ; while at the same time it is never made an excuse for overstepping the line of demarcation, and always placed in connection with faithfulness and decision of conduct. The point of worldly conformity commences, and the habit of it is strengthened, in the neglect of Christian simplicity of profession. Either these rules are not spiritually apprehended, or they are not conscientiously regarded, or there is a want of intelligent ca- pacity to apply them. Many young inquirers of unformed habits and unexercised profession have lost their slight im- pressions of religion in an unguarded association with the world. And how many more established professors have by unspiritual habits become unconsciously conformed to the taste, maxims, or society of the world, even while they have " escaped its" external " pollutions." We would earnestly recommend the application of these rules to every step and point of contact with the world. Let them be the test for the daily " trial of our spirit." Let us cultivate that tender susceptibility of conscience, which impressed this devoted 160 MEMOIR OF child of God with poignant sorrow and humiliation in a sin- gle instance of overstepping the boundary, or neglecting the rule, of her Christian profession. We are persuaded that this habit of mind diligently cherished, would issue in the conviction, that the points of necessary or hopeful intercourse with the world, are not so frequent as were imagined; that the rational pleasure of its society ill compensates for the painful loss that is felt in the secret retirement ; that posi- tive evil belongs to unnecessary communication with it; and that increasing circumspection is needed even in the path of duty. The responsibility of maintaining our profession will be more deeply felt; and a path of retreat sought for, where that profession seems to be impracticable. We shall walk not by expediency, but by rule. Self-indulgence will yield to the dictates of conscience, and double-mindedness to the simplicity of the gospel. " The eye being thus single, the whole body will be full of light." Religion will assume a different caste. It will be marked by a holy and heavenly stamp. It will be — not a system of restraints — but a religion of privilege — the strictness of its rules wholly divested of moroseness, and forming an effectual safeguard of its con- sistency and fruitfulness. Thus God will be seen in his true character, as " having pleasure in the prosperity of his servant," who needs not to be beholden to the world for that happiness, which it promises to its votaries in substance, but gives only in shadow and delusion. The length and seriousness of this important discussion may be happily relieved by a sprightly effort of Miss Gra- ham's imagination, bearing immediately upon our subject. It was written impromptu in her friend's manuscript book. The picture was probably suggested by her residence on the sea-side. February, 1830. "Thy people shall be my people." — Ruth i. 16. 'I have sometimes thought, that the Christian, who willingly casts his lot amongst those to whom the doctrine of the cross is foolish- ness, and sits down in the world as if he were of the world, is like the foolish little bird that should build its nest in the mast of some tall ship. At first it seems a place of security and peace ; but soon the vessel looses from its anchor, and the little song- ster is borne away it knows not whither. The trees and flowery hedges, and bright sunny meadows, are fast going out of sight. Fain would the poor bird spread its wings and re- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 161 gain them : but how can it leave its nestlings, its treasures, which it has confided to that strange and troubled dwelling ! No, no; its all is launched into the deep ; and with anxious, constant care it must hover round the dear nest, and seek for strange and scanty food for its young. And at first the vessel may., glide smootly on, while the wind gently plays with its sails, and the sun lights them up to a snowy whiteness, and the gilded waves break in sparkles round the stately prow. Then the little visitant pours forth its sweet song, and glad- dens the sailor's heart by the fond tale it tells him of happi- ness and home. Yet all the while it is only lamenting its desolation, and pining after the pleasant haunts in the green wood, and the dear companions, by whom its notes were an- swered from bush to bush, till the very boughs waved in joy to their merry strains. But O ! poor bird, if a storm arise, how wilt thou flutter round thy nestlings, and tremble lest they should be swept away by the pitiless waves, or chilled into death by the piercing winds ! Yes, little trembler, thou hast placed thyself and thine offspring in a perilous situation ; nor is it thou that canst save them, but thy Father and ours, without whom not so much as a sparrow falleth to the ground. He it was that took care of thee, when thou wast safely lodged in thine own leafy branches ; and he can take care of thee now, can teach the rude sailor to respect thy helplessness, and hush the stormy winds, that they ruffle not a feather of thy wing. And thus, Christian, if thou hast wilfully 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 desola- tion shalt thou have, while thou art "singing 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 all her views of science, extensive and accurate as they were, to have been received and enjoyed through a heavenly medium. Whichever way she looked in 162 MEMOIR OF this wide expanse, her eye was transfixed in the contempla- tion of the unsearchable mysteries of redeeming love. We may instance the following 1 sketch of Christian Astronomy — extracted from her manuscript. Speaking of the withering influence of Mathematics upon the pleasures of the imagina- tion, and having (as we have already seen) suggested the study of classical literature, as furnishing some antidote for this evil, she further adds on this point: ' It is scarcely possible to pursue mathematics to any ex- tent, 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 dis- play a sublimity, which exalts the imagination ; 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 con- scious 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-crea- ture — this bows him to the dust. Sin has made him an outcast from the beautiful creation, an alien from the creating God. An holy God is on every side ; and he is not holy. 1 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 163 "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 honour." ' "Praise him, ye heavens of heavens. Praise him, all ye stars of light." 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 rejec- tion of his Maker, it is most refreshing to observe the magni- ficent illustrations by which " the heavens," viewed through the medium of Christian philosophy, " declare the glory of God." In this field of elevated contemplation 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 salvation. 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, 4 an undevout astronomer is mad,' even the devout man of science is not in the full possession of his faculties, nor in the enjoyment of the clear perception of the objects of his delight*- ed observation, except he has been instructed in the higher school of Divine science, and enabled to trace in the Maker of the starry frame his God and Saviour — his faithful, un- changeable, Almighty friend. We pass to another field of science of more general inter- est. Miss Graham's Musical Tract, already referred to, will, it is believed, 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 magnificent prose of John Milton or Jeremy Taylor. Take the following as a specimen : Speaking to her young pupil of the importance of practis- ing, she sends her to the woods and groves for a stimulating example of industry. ' I can tell you that the little musicians of the grove do not attain their wild and delicate modulations without practice. When 1 lay in bed last summer, unable to speak or move for many hours in the day, the song of the birds furnished me with an inexhaustible source of amusing observation. I could not but feel grateful to the melodious little creatures, who be- guiled me of half my pain, and made the weary hours of sick- 164 MEMOIR OF ness 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 wood pigeons, which had been silent the year before, renewed 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 dis- tinguish from all the other thrushes ; indeed his skill seemed to exceed theirs as much as Cordoba's* exceeds yours or mine. Every mornings 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 themselves to sleep, or were flown off to keep up their festivities 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 distant bough. But when he had fixed upon a little cadence which pleased him, it became a more serious business. Strange to say, I could always tell when this would be ; for what pleased me particularly was sure to please him; so true is it 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 various distances during these little intervals ; but they seemed conscious of their inferiority to my favourite, who would 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 touch- ing that ever came into a thrush's heart. I needed neither concert nor music-master, while I could listen to the untaught, * An eminent musical professor among the Spanish refugees, to whom she expresses herself indebted for much valuable instruction. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 165 but not unpremeditated, harmony of this original professor; nor could I 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 the birds are at to charm us with their warbling. It is pretty also to hear the young birds com- mence their small and faultering strains, which grow clearer and louder, till they are no longer to be distinguished from the rest. True, it is their profession, and we have many other things to think of; but what time we do give to the study of music, we should give it with our hearts, as they do.' For effective playing she gives the following sensible rules, interspersing them with her own happy illustrations : 'I have told you that to play a piece effectively you must comprehend it well. You must also feel it deeply. It is impossible to excite lively emotions in another'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 (with the help of the mechanical rules I have given you) to bring those perceptions out in your own performance. The first is, to cultivate a constant habit of list- ening to natural sou?ids. Every thing 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 attention to the song of birds. Then there is the bleating of flocks, and the lowing of distant herds, and the busy hum *bf insects. Above all, the modulations of the human voice afford us a perpetual source of observation. From thence we may gather the expression 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-hearted carols, their bursts of tiny merriment, their mimic griefs, and simply told stories, without imbibing some new and charm- ing combinations of harmonious expression. If music brings no lovely thoughts and associations to your mind, you are learning it to very little purpose. If it does, an intimate ac- quaintance with the music of nature will invest the express- ion of those thoughts with a grace and refinement, which the most persevering practice will fail to impart. Take les- sons of the winds and of the waters, and of the trees; of all P 166 MEMOIR OF animate and inanimate nature. So shall the very spirit of sweet sound and expression 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 Handel's finest pieces is said to have been suggested by the labour of a blacksmith at his anvil ; so successfully did he watch for the harmony that lies wrapped up in the commonest sounds. * The next rule I shall give you, is to listen attentively to skil- ful performers ; noticing particularly what emotions are ex- cited in your mind by every passage ; and by what means they contrive to 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 beautiful imaginations, tender feel- ings, and passionate impulses. But in reading poetry, we are delighted with the thoughts of another person; and though a beautiful idea will give us new pleasure every time we re- cur 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 in- venting, combining, and diversifying, at pleasure, the images which harmonious sounds raise in our minds. The selfsame 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, arid happy hours, come back to us in all their fresh- ness and reality. Then the future opens its dreary prospect, 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 for- gotten, the future unheeded, the mind wrapped up in the present consciousness of sublimity or beauty. Forms of delicate loveliness, things such as dreams are made of, float before the mental vision, shaped into something of a walking distinctness. Thoughts too noble to last, high and holy re- solves, gushings of tenderness, alternately possess our minds, with emotions all equally different, and equally de- lightful. The poetical inspiration of Alfieri seldom came MARY JANE GRAHAM. 167 upon him, but when he was under the influence of music. Haydn's symphonies were all composed 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 gaiety, which to this day inspires all who hear his music with corresponding emotions.' The Christian tone and descriptive beauty of the conclud- ing paragraphs will be generally admired. They are in the style of her favourite writer, Jeremy Taylor. ' The expression of sacred music comprehends every emo- tion that can agitate the human heart, and must be felt rather than described. The subdued tones of awful adoration ; the impassioned fervour of desire ; the humility of prayer ; the wailing of penitential sorrow ; the glad notes of thanksgiv- ing ; and the loud chorus of praise ; all these have their own peculiar utterance, and must be pervaded by a depth and solemnity which shall distinguish them from the meaner af- fections of humanity. ' I am fearful of touching too lightly upon this hallowed subject. Many young persons, when their feelings are ex- cited by sacred music, imagine themselves to be bettered by such feelings, and to be under the influence of genuine reli- gious sentiments. But if the plain majesty of the word of God does not suffice to kindle an equal fervour within us, when we are reading it silently and alone, we may be sure that the emotions excited by the lovely songs and pleasant instruments of men are the mere ebullitions of natural feel- ing, and have nothing to do with religion. Those who would sing the praises of the Lord, must " sing them with under- standing." The undying torch of tru^h must be lighted up in that faculty, 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. 4 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, in- conceivably 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 168 MEMOIR OF branches ; the broken murmur of the stream, the louder gush- ing 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 drink- ing in unutterable thoughts of the majesty of God 1 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 an 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 gracefully melting des- cant of the nightingale; the joyous, thrilling melody of the lark ; the throstle's wild warbling, and the blackbird's tender whistle ; the soft piping of the bulflnch ; 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 distinctly 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 ber- ries fail, that my soul, too often insensible to its own mercies, 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 enliven us, and the gnat has laid by his horn, then the little cricket wakens into life and song, and gladdens our hearth 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 yonr heart to the Lord," let your hand and your voice make melody too ; and let the faculty which infinite benevolence has oreated for your enjoyment, be converted, as all your other faculties should be, into the instrument of praise. To know that you make this worthiest 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 connexion of poetry and music alluded to in her MARY JANE GRAHAM. 169 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 considerable spirit, and took some pains with the composition, it may have slightly suffered in a trans- lation. 1824. * My dear Friend — Yesterday I was told of an observation you had made in the conversazione of Mr. B., (where unfor- tunately 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 dul- ness, which you will certainly find in my composition. 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 can- not 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 heighten 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 1 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 lips, he is struck with the beautiful sounds which issue from it, and he endeavours to imitate them with his voice, in simple songs celebrating the beauties 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 toge- ther, with so perfect a sympathy between them, that the one cannot be outraged without the other also suffering. 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 interesting, the effects which in every age they have produced on the heart. p 2 170 MEMOIR OF I wish to search a little 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 percepti- ble to the senses, and for its enjoyment require a certain phy- sical conformation, 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 in- fluence 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 diffuses it- self through every part of the mind. It moves every passion, softens every affection, and creates a thousand delightful im- aginations, a thousand divine projects, 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 pro- ducing these sentiments, be reckoned among the noblest de- lights of the human mind 1 I have not time to continue this interesting subject. But I cannot conclude without observ- ing, that the poets themselves owe their finest ideas to music. Do you recollect the power which it had over the mind of our favourite Alfieri 1 He could scarcely compose without its help. Many of his noble tragedies were conceived at the Opera. But do thou, divine Petrarch, come to my help, and show her who admires thee so much, that without the music of nature, the song of birds, the murmur of the stream, 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 lamentar angclli, o verdi fronde,' &c. 4 You know the rest. I have only time to say, that I am always • Your very affectionate ■ Mary/ MARY JANE GRAHAM. 171 Without pronouncing- upon the contending claims, (which probably may still be a matter of dispute,) the exercise is not unworthy of the intellectual character of the writer, and is specially interesting, as a burst of that ' vehemence approach- ing to ecstacy,' which, as Mr. Cecil keenly observed — ' the world will allow on almost 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 ex- ercise 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 favourites ; and even Lord Byron detained her for awhile the victim of his fascinating enchantment. We subjoin a letter of a very early date, descriptive of her feel- ings, with much discrimination of taste, and with all the glow of her characteristic enthusiasm. July 15, 1822. 1 1 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 exquisite beauty and sublimity, that it seems as if a human pen could scarcely have traced them. All the time 1 was reading it, I felt I was doing something wrong, 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. I thought it rather horrible than sublime. But I am just now in love with another poet, who is as fond of clothing his frictures with the sunny radiance of happiness and benevo- ence, 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, that 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 1 72 MEMOIR OF be a matter of surprise, it may be observed, that her letter distinctly records 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 the date of this letter, she readily made the sacrifice of her taste (which to her fervid mind required no ordinary effort) in the total relin- quishment of this source of deleterious pleasure. Whatever weight may attach to her judgment will therefore decidedly be found on the 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 wel- fare. To a pure mind we might have supposed that a rich and splendid fancy would be spoiled of all its attraction by its frequent connexion with licentious profaneness and im- piety — moral deformities sufficient to cast the most exquisite beauties of power and genius into the shade ; and the con- templation of which must be injurious to the best sensibilities of our nature. E ven the instruction resulting from the unveiled features of human depravity is obtained — if at all — at consid- erable hazard. For let it be remembered — as Miss Graham has shown — that the direct influence of poetry plays upon the passions, and thus tends to produce a corresponding habit of the mind. The evil propensities therefore pourtrayed by this master-mind with such awful exactness, and embracing every form of malignity than 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 ac- tivity, or with searching subtlety, its pervading influence is equally to be dreaded. We believe that many Christians, especially in moments of temptation, are reaping the bitter fruit of 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 spirit- ual interests. We add one further quotation from Miss Graham's manu- script upon a subject not wholly unconnected with the pre- ceding — 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, MARY JANE GRAHAM. 173 4 The press teems with religious novels, from the long eventful story to the ephemeral trifles which eke out the 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 permitted to say, that the very interest excited by these superior productions increases their bad tendency. How strange a medley of sensations agitates the heart, that is fluttering between the emotions excited by the well-pic- tured charms of religion, and the love-scene that is better pictured still ! How shall the young and inexperienced dis- tinguish between earthly and heavenly feelings ! How shall they determine whether their agitation arises out of romance or religion ; a heated imagination, or a heart warmed with divine love 1 1 1 cannot conceive the use or propriety of introducing this kind of sentimental narrative into works professedly of a reli- gious 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 uncon- verted. Those of 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 above-men- tioned performances. They will neither assist him to under- stand 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 prejudice 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 charac- ter will only be deteriorated by their enervating influence. They will tend to impair both the inclination and capacity for solid intellectual exertion. It has been urged in their de- fence, that they will open to him a more extended view of human nature. But this will be much more effectually ob- tained by comparing the Scripture statement with his own daily experience and observation. Another argument in their 174 MEMOIR OF favour is, that they afford an 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 master-pieces 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 cas- tle-builders. But we 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 from the perusal. I admit the first part of this proposition, but deny the conclusion that is drawn from it, except in a few, a very few instances, which are to be regarded rather as exceptions 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 condemna- tion, nor pronounced entirely useless, since the sovereign grace of God will occasionally use even them for its purpose. But they do not prove the necessity of sending forth such im- mense shoals of these productions, that one would think they 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 inclined to ask — ' Do you not in a measure create the taste, to which you profess only to accom- modate yourselves? Will not this indisposition to all solid and valuable reading be exceedingly encouraged by your in- dulgent connivance V I much doubt both the lawfulness and expediency of this mode of decoying people into reli- gion. I fear that the quantity of good which flows from it is greatly overbalanced by the quantity of evil. The religion inspired by such reading is of a doubtful na- ture. 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 fervour of devotion. Not so with these ambiguous compositions. Romance and Religion are so allied, that we may suppose the latter to be embraced, when in effect her presence is only tol- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 175 erated for the sake of her fascinating- companion. Dressed in the sober garb of truth, she will too probably be rejected by those who permitted her to court them under the be- witching 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 en- courage the prevalence of a style of writing which can never rise into genuine sublimity, nor fix itself upon a basis of na- tive solidity and strength V This extract will be generally admitted to mark consider- able 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 litera- ture. We might indeed adduce Dr. Chalmer's writings 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 val* uable faculty for the illustration and enforcement of his im- portant 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 imme- diate 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 introduc- tion 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 more determinate, it has proceed- ed very far beyond the necessity of the case. Minds formed for effective usefulness need to be conversant with the solidi- ty of truth, not with the visionary atmosphere of fiction ; while the indulgence of this artificial character fosters a bane- ful spirit of excitement ; generates a distaste for well-regulated studies ; creates a taste for moral reading of a more detrimen- tal character ; weakens the habits of self-controul, so essential to the strengthening of the intellectual and moral principles ; and brings a habit of sentimentalism into the religious profess- ion, in the stead of simple and practical spirituality. 176 MEMOIR OF The most effectual remedy against this existing and un- fruitful 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 Scriptural rule, which Miss Gra- ham on a former occasion so justly inculcated, for the proof of the legitimacy of our principles and enjoyments : " Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." We conclude this selection from Miss Graham's writings and correspondence, with an abstract of ' Letters on the Duties of a Governess,' a series of which she had contemplated for the use of her young cousin, then looking forward to this im- portant and most responsible situation. She commenced her plan during her last illness, and with great difficulty wrote two letters in pencil from her dying bed. Though too incom- plete in thought and style for publication, 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 do- mestic economy. These letters appear to have been one of Miss Graham's last efforts for one, whose best interests formed one of her most tender ties to life. After commencing with the most affectionate expression of her deep-toned anxiety for her, she thus proceeds to remind her of her Christian responsi- bility. 1 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 abilities will aljow, you may he truly and decidedly a Ch?'istian governess. For, oh ! my dear- est , your's 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 re- quired.' In this first preparatory letter she is chiefly occupied in inculcating upon her cousin the Christian principle of faith in Christ, in all its detailed application to the circumstan- ces, trials, and encouragements of the situation of a gov- erness. * 1 can only offer my advice to you as a Christian. I know MARY JANE GRAHAM. 177 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 for you and them too, time soon shall be no more, I dare not go upon any system but one fitting for souls born for immortality. Every word then that I write, must be on the supposition, 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 Jesus." 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 as- sistance and direction on this most important subject. This implies that you intend to seek for a situation among God's people ; for I suppose 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 occasion, 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 im- portant 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 for you to directyour own conduct,) you join yourself to those who "are not of the world," and to no others. An established Christian mitrht go in faith Q 178 MEMOIR OF under the clear guidance of providence, into a worldly or irreligious family; and (if the parent would allow of her in- terference) she might be made a blessing to the whole family. But such a step, wilfully take?i, would be a serious, perhaps a fatal, injury to an undecided Christian. In a vast multitude of cases, the natural consequence of choosing a lot among the children of this world has been, that indecision in religion has become indifference ; indifference has terminated in aver- sion ; and the wretched professor has shown herself openly on the side of the world, tormented with the sting of her former convictions, and vainly contrasting her worldly mirth with " the voice of rejoicing and salvation," 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 afford you many important opportunities of marking the beauty and happiness of religion. 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 valu- able advantages for your own mind. Under all circumstan- ces, be assured that you will find the blessing of taking this first great step of your life — " looking unto Jesus." 4 " Look unto Jesus" also for strength to perform the duties of your situation. These you will find to be many and ar- duous, 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 strengthened 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 mean- est 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 for counsel in the difficulties of your situation. Remember that he is not only your strength, but your " wis- dom." 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 179 rule to "inquire of the Lord." The advice of friends is ever to be sought and valued; but that of the kindest and wisest may sometimes be insufficient or erroneous, or given in a harsh injudicious manner. But the Lord giveth not only advice, but " wisdom, liberally and without upbraiding." * " Look unto Jesus" for comfort and encouragement in 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 little to be cast upon the Lord. A cheerful looking unto Jesus, an assurance that he ever loveth and ever careth for us, will bear us through many petty annoyances, which sometimes wear health and spirits much more than real and great griev- ances. ' Lastly, " Look unto Jesus" for a certain reward upon your labour. 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 importu- nately, 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 perfection. You may labour 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 pleasures 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 re- fined and superior nature. Among the first of these I reckon the usefulness and importance of the task in which she is daily engaged. Compare 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 de- ISO MEMOIR OF light 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 needful for the sake of one living being, be would not "depart," even "to be with Christ." I know of no employment in which a Christian woman can be more profitably engaged, than in watching over the spiritual and mental improvement of children. The young beings entrust- ed to her care may form the comfort and delight of parents, brethren, husband, friends, children. They may grow up 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 right- eousness." To be the instrument, (under God,) of the small- est particle of this good, must be inexpressible delight. ' Nothing^ invigorates our progress 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 intellectual improvement, from which God permits us to draw encouragement, are most en- livening. 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 afterwards retain, is indeed a most difficult task. But with the young, where we have to form instead of to reform, to prevent rather than to eradicate : patient instruction, and unremitting watchful- ness w r ill in ordinary cases succeed to a very considerable degree. And though divine grace only can subdue their evil tempers and dispositions, human means may do much to- wards retraining that outward violence, which so often makes young people not only wretched in themselves, but an occa- sion of sorrow to all connected with them. The same advan- tage is connected with Christian grace and improvement. The minister preaches with holy earnestness to his adult con- gregation : but it is to the young of his flock, not yet hardened in sin or in worldly habits, that he turns with peculiar hope and encouragement. To this comparatively tender and unoc- cupied soil, he consigns the 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 1S1 deal ; and as youth is the season of hope and expectation, so is your task peculiarly 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 inter- course with them, especially if they come under your care at an early age. It is delightful te be beloved by those whom we have thus bound to us by the cords of gratitude 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 de- lightful and intellectual ; for all their knowledge and many of their pleasures, your pupils will probably (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 sympathizing friend. The improvement of your own mind is also a source of in- expressible delight. A conscientious governess will be per- petually and delightfully improving herself. While explain- ing subjects to her pupils, her own views become clearer; while she is teaching them facts or words, her own recollec- tion of them is refreshed and strengthened. The arrange- ment of her knowledge for the use of her pupils is of the high- est 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 acquaintance with the subject be obscure, imperfect, or superficial, the at- tempt 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 add- ing 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 governess. Next to the improvement of her own mind, and indeed because 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 mind in general. In cultivating a flower garden there are few pleasures equal to that of watch- ing the tender buds, as they unfold one by one their beauteous Q2 1S2 MEMOIR or petals- How delightful is it to admire the wisdom of God, who teaches them to peep in due season from their mantle of green ; bids the sun to clothe them in all the colours of the rainbow; and endues them with shapes so varied and so per- fect, 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 1 And at a later age to watch those powers and faculties, as they daily improve and strengthen : to see the unformed and un- taught child, grow up before your eyes into the graceful, re- fined, 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 dif- ferent minds; of comparing their several degrees of develop- ment, and the peculiar combination of faculties, which con- stitutes the formation of each peculiar turn of mental tempe- rament. You may probably find among } T our 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 powers and faculties with different degrees of vigour 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 expe- rience ; and will assist you much in combating the defects in your own mind, which the course of your teaching in a watchful habit of self-inspection will bring before you. And as the 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 converse. The dull prosy cease to be wearisome, while we are busily employed in inquiring into MARY JANE GRAHAM. 1S3 the causes of their imperfections, how they might have been, or might still be corrected. < The advantages you will gain in watching the tempers and dispositions of your pupils will be yet more valuable and im- portant. 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 mu- tilated remains of what was once so noble and beautiful. But our tempers and dispositions it has totally perverted. To study the varieties of the natural heart, is but to study selfishness and pride, in all the various forms of virtue and vice, which they have assumed for the delusion and destruc- tion 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 connected with a governess' situation ; — not to discourage you, but to prepare you, if I 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 sepa- ration 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 V* J The 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 proportion of encouraging kindness on the one hand, and of respectful confidence on the other; friendship will soon take place of strangeness and reserve. This is particularly the case, where both parties are sincere Christians. The love of their common Lord begets such feelings of union and sympa- thy between them, that the hand of fellowship is soon held forth and accepted, as if they had long known and loved each other. They know so much about each other, of which the rest of the world is ignorant ; they feel themselves so much of " strangers and pilgrims upon earth," that they cannot but rejoice at meeting with a fellow-sojourner, who, 1S4 MEMOIR OP like themselves, "has no continuing city, but seeks that bet- ter country," to which their own steps are directed. Added to this general feeling amongst the Lord's people, the Christian mother may surely be expected to receive with peculiar in- terest and affection, 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 welfare she cries unto him nicrht and day. Even should you fail of obtaining this privilege ; should your employers be ever so cold and distant; still the affections of your pupils, conciliated to you by affec- tionate and judicious treatment, will be objects of incessant interest to fill up the void in your heart, in the consciousness of loving and being beloved. 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 unlikely to happen in your case), I have to remind you of another source of consolation, which can never fail or disap- point 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 sympathy ! How rich in counsel ! How " meek and lowly in reproof! How wise to direct ! How mighty to help ! How slow to anger ! How ready to for- give ! What a faithful, unfailing, promise-keeping friend !' Aoainst 'the feeling of afflictive solitariness,' a measure of which under the most favourable circumstances must be- long 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 : 1 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 father's de- clining 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 reunion in ten, twenty, or thirty years. The daughters probably marry, and accompany their husbands to remote situations, from whence they return once in a few months or years, to visit the still dear party at home. MARY JANE GRAHAM. 185 This you will say is an unfair comparison. For the happy young 1 wife goes with her husband, who is more to her than all the friends of home ; and she is soon settled in 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 I 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 no# are superior to those she has relinquished. And thus the devoted Christian ; whether married or unmar- ried, has with her wherever she goes, the cheering presence of one, who is far dearer to her than husband, parents, bro- thers, sisters, or friends. She has made her home in the bosom of her God and Saviour. Thither she flies for sym- pathy 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, npr on earth any she desires in comparison of him." She must feel as a stranger even in her own home, if it be com- posed 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 affec- tions are fixed.' Another ground of alleviation it very pointedly and sensi- bly 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 comforts and liberty of home, makes every little restraint and discomfort of a situation doubly irksome and annoying. The poor governess, who has the misnamed privilege of perpetual access to her home, returns from it in no very favourable mood to a place where she cannot (at least at first) be loved, caressed, and appreci- ated, as amongst her own friends. It is but too natural that she should consider every little departure from the unlimited and perhaps injudicious indulgence which she has just experi- enced, as an actual deviation from the law of kindness and 186 MEMOIR OF 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 nearness of her home tempts her steps thither again. There the well-filled budget of petty trials and vexations, which few young per- son 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 telltng 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 exacted, 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, divi- ded between her pupils and home, cannot fully and affection- ately employ all its energies in the service of the former. Too often will her absent looks and languid attention betray the fact so injurious for pupils to discover, that her mind can wander as well as theirs ; and that their improvement and en- tertainment are objects which soon slide out of her thoughts, 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 detrimental both to herself and her younger charge. From these considerations, 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 enable 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 unrea- sonableness to be all on your side. It is both right and na- tural 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 187 a pernicious effect, by weakening habits newly formed, and permitting old and bad habits to revive; by unsettling the mind in all its pursuits, and blotting out much of what has been already learned. If, therefore, they oppose your ab- sence, it is because thgy 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 deci- sion. But the best way to prevent any future misunderstand- ing or disappointment, is to make some arrangement before you enter upon your situation.' The frequent change of situation, or the 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 de- lightful 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 relinquish her situation. She has long been employed in clearing away the rubbish: inlaying the foundation; and in collecting and arranging the materials of her intended superstructure, which was begfnning to rise with a daily increasing order and sym- metry. This°state of things might probably appear rude and unfinished to the eye of others, but it was full of hope and interest to her, who had been watching its progress from day to day, and confidently awaiting the happy, though distant, completion of her labours. Her work must now pass into the hands of another, who neither witnessed its commence- ment, 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 seri- ously injured by this change of system. The very act of changing has a tendency to unsettle the mind. The new comer's manners, her new modes of expression, and new sys- tem of teaching, must render her at first less intelligible to them, than the familiar voice to which they have been accus- tomed ; and till this disadvantage is conquered, her services must prove less effective. Besides, too often the new govern- ess, confident of the superiority of her own methods of in- struction, hastily puts aside the rules and arrangements of her predecessor — not because they are not good — but as if they 188 MEMOIR OF 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 bo&t methods are displaced by others that are newer and better still. The result of this broken and interrupted education will be a sort of clumsy patchwork, made up of a medley of fine and coarse mate- rials, 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. 1 My 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 tempers ; conciliate their affections ; examine and arrange their present acquirements : in short, she must en- counter anew every former difficulty. And when all this is effected, and things begin to glide smoothly on, another change, another loss of time and labour may yet be in prospect for her. The web may be again unravelled ; 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 resulting from a frequent change of situation — not by way of discourage- ment, but of warning. I am persuaded that in a large major- ity 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 decidedly insufficient motives are accurately speci- fied. 4 I need scarcely suggest, that a trifling increase of salary would be an insufficient reason for quitting a tolerably com- fortable situation. Circumstances, such as some urgent family-call upon your assistance, might indeed render a change not only excusable but praiseworthy. But without an imper- ative call, it will be equally your interest and happiness to retain your station. I consider the governess, who will abandon her young charge for the mere sake of a little paltry emolument, much in the same light with the minister, who MARY JANE GRAHAM. 189 will leave his larger flock, for the same base motive of " filthy lucre," without any clear providential call. This abandon- ment 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 present neither know nor care any thing 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 sorrow to it.V 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 likely to prevail with a young person, who is not enabled to hold fast her integrity, by working with a sin- gle eye to the service of Christ. * Nor do I think, that any trifling inconvenience should in- duce you to relinquish an engagement, which holds out to you a fair prospect of usefulness. Every situation has its trials and privations ; 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 severely felt at first. After a time they wear off, and at length cease to occasion any considera- ble uneasiness. "When the temper of either parents or chil- dren 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 sh'ould 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. 4 Again — let not any sudden Jit of despondency induce you toglvcup your situation. There are few teachers who cannot recollect a time when every thing 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 ever so exacting and dissatisfied. In any other family they should succeed better ; here they can neither do justice to their pupils nor to themselves.' Such 190 MEMOIR OF feelings, which may be expected to arise in times of difficul- ty 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, watch- fulness, and prayer, to restore a healthful tone of energy, cheerfulness, and satisfaction to your mind. ' I need scarcely observe, that no offence, real or fancied, except the former be of a very clear and aggravated character, could justify you in quitting a family in which you may have probably received much kindness, and 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 ; forget- ting that the reproof of " the righteous should be like excel- lent oil," not to " break," but to heal, the wounded spirit. Yet the harshness w r ith which a censure may be given, forms no excuse for a defect of Christian meekness and love in re- ceiving it. " Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry ;" but remember that " a soft answer turneth away wrath." Indulge not that sensitive temper, which is always looking out for some ground of offence, over which it can brood, till it bursts out into open discontent ; which bristles up at every light and unguarded expression, 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 to many little things, which are grating to a proud and self-conceited temper. Good sense and experience will indeed help to depress this baneful temper. For we can scarce- ly 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 ; that we must expect our full share of in- convenience and neglect. But true Christian humility 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 fire 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 Avith nothing; it can endure nothing. But do you follow after that "charity which suffereth long and is kind ; is not puffed up ; doth not MARY JANE GRAHAM. 191 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 sat 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 explicit call of duty or necessity can justify you in quitting it. ' The causes that might induce your employers to dissolve the engagement (in which case yon can have no alternative) very materially depend upon yourself. Under any ground, just or unjust, of their dissatisfaction with you, endeavour in a spirit of prayer to sift every part of your conduct, and particu- larly the part censured, to the very bottom. Put yourself in their place. Make every allowance 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 candour and humility, and (in a higher strength than your own) to promise amendment. To retain your situation by this "voluntary humility" will be truly honour- able in the eyes of Christians, who know that "he that hum- bleth himself shall be exalted." But supposing that, after sincere self-examination, 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 pro- fess your freedom from any intentional offence or omission; and declare your readiness to redouble your efforts to give sat- isfaction. 1 Should incompetency be alleged against you, I should advise you, rather than give up your engagement in despair or in offence, to endeavour by redoubled diligence and application, especially in the particular ground of complaint, to redeem and establish your character. Christian gentleness and hu- mility to explain and conciliate, and a willingness to correct errors, and to supply omission, will in many cases restore satisfaction and confidence in the minds of your employers. 4 Should however — not any fault or caprice on either side — but some unavoidable domestic necessity, dissolve the connec- tion, 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 gracious purpose. In the next 192 MEMOIR OF place — all painful feeling of responsibility for any evil that may 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 desti- nation, 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 detail of the principles, characteristics, and sympathies of the life of a governess. Had Miss Graham been permitted to complete her design, her accurate and observant mind would probably have produced a valuable manual for this in- teresting and important class of society. In the defect how- ever of an entire system of instruction, the preceding hints will be found to suggest much sensible instruction nearly connected with their comfort and usefulness. An even balance must, indeed, be preserved in the adjust- ment of this important 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 obliga- tion to elevate her in a high rank above the menials of the house, and to consider the claims of aged parents or poor re- lations that often inconveniently press upon her. The same 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 affec- tions ; and paralyses that affectionate interest in their charge, which is the soul and energy of a fruitful system of instruc- tion. Whereas a considerate tenderness would return to the parents an abundant recompense, in raising up for their chil- dren valuable friends in the persons of their instructors — attached to their interests beyond the prospects of sordid gain — wise, anxious, and sympathizing counsellors to the end of life. On the other hand, the disposition in the employers to in- corporate the instructor, as far as is consistent with her sta- tion, into the family circle, is too often restrained by hindrances over which they have no controul — even where a well-fur- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 1 93 nished mind, and general consistency of conduct would have made her society an important consideration. Yet a want of knowledge or respect for the regulations of decorum — defect of manners — forge tfulness of the due reserve connected with her situation — pedantic tone of conversation — vanity of dress — self-importance — a disputatious spirit — a love of authority — affectation, or studied eccentricity of behaviour — these or some other failure in the domestic graces — repel the exercise of kindly confidence, and produce a natural, and in some de- gree a necessary, distance in the deportment of the parents. Let each side form their mutual behaviour upon Scriptural rules. Let the one practise the injunction of love — " What- soever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them." Let the other "be clothed with humility," and be found in the daily observance 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. r2 CHAPTER V. Different views and features in Miss Graham's character. The retired and uniform habits of Miss Graham's life scarcely allow of a detailed illustration of her natural charac- ter. 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 through- out 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 situa- tion which I have filled for some years (in tuition) has of course brought under my notice the various dispositions and peculiar tempers of children in general. From necessity, partly, I have studied them. But I have never met with one, who in any degree answered my recollections of Mary Gra- ham. Warm and susceptible in her affections, she was ten- der to those of others ; nor did she ever suffer any regret or disappointment in her own mind to interfere with the com- fort or pleasure of her companions.' 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 respect increased.' This lovely trait was combined with a sweet- ness and gentleness of disposition, and, being moulded under the influence 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 remem- brance of her is connected 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.' MEMOIR, &C. 195 We have already given her parents' account of her relative character under their own roof. In its wider sphere of opera- tion it may however be added, that her natural affection 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 effort 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 never ceased to cherish the hope, that her prayers were heard with acceptance. The following letter full 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." At the same time, if after prayer, you really do not feel called upon to do some- thing for them, and that speedily and perseveringly ; and if you do not think you are guilty of great unfaithfulness, 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." 196 MEMOIR OF 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 speak- eth in you," — we should no longer suffer false shame to hin- der us from earnestly pressing the subject of the gospel upon those who are dear to us. May not we, as well as the In- spired Apostles, hope for the indwelling guidance of that Spirit, who shall strengthen us in all utterance and in knowledge?' One main feature of her intellectual character was the ar- dour, steadiness, and concentration of mind, with which she pursued every object of interest. This indeed distinguished her earliest and most unbended habits. Her youthful games were marked with the same intensity of feeling 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 ficti- tious character with an expression, that proved her to be totally absorbed in it. Thus it was with reading or with work. No efforts or entreaties could avail to divert her mind from the object which was then engaging her attention to any other employment or recreation. In the occupations of after-life, whether it was music, the languages, mathematics, or chemis- try, it was still the same warmth and fixedness of mind. The early dawn not unfrequently found her (after she had girded on her C hristian armour) deeply engaged in her studies. The spirit and result of her investigations often entered into her com- mon conversation, whenever 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 endeavour to communicate 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 superiority, yet they appeared to themselves often to possess a greater strength of mind, and variety of concep- tion, than they had before been conscious of. Perhaps how- ever the completeness of her intellectual character appeared in the well-regulated application of her mental powers. To MARY JANE GRAHAM. 197 subjects of taste — such as music and poetry — she brought a glow of feeling, and of imagination, that quickens the pulse of her readers, and plays upon the passions with an irresisti- ble charm. On the other hand, matters of a graver Cast, such as the highly valuable discussions of her Mathematical Manu- script, 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 apprehension of the prepon- derance of this indulgent taste above more solid pursuits. Thus was her fine imagination furnished with a proportionate 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. Though she had a clear per- ception that the blessing she sought was a free gift, yet she expected the attainment of it, like that of every important ob- ject of pursuit, only in the constant use of the appointed means. She was therefore led to cherish the principles of her Christian profession, in a spirit of earnest and prayerful searching of the Scriptures, and thus was she enabled to ex- hibit 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 differ- ence of her feelings was often discernible 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 difficulty that she could be induced to converse upon religious subjects ; and she would turn from them to enter upon topics exclusively intel- lectual. But this view of her character cannot better be de- scribed than in the language of her most intimate and confi- dential friend. ■ 1 did not notice any infirmity in her Christian character, 198 MEMOIR OF except the one she herself often mentions — inequality. The difference in spiritual feeling was more visible in her than in any other Christians 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 hea- venly 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 mea- sure 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 de- scribed 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 development of the most prominent features of Miss Gra- ham's Christian character. In a compassionate concern for the unconverted, she had deeply imbibed the spirit of her beloved Master. 4 1 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 im- proved 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 long and " wearisome nights appointed" her, were often en- gaged in intercession for their souls. 4 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 interest, 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 199 always with the most lively expression 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 responsibility of every opportunity of addressing her fellow-sinners, whether rich or poor, upon the immensely momentous concerns of eternity ; and when unable to seek after them, she longed to bring them into her sick room, within the reach of her solemn and affectionate exhortations; though a restless night was the expected consequence of this ardent excitement. It was her great desire to bring her whole family, all her friends and neighbours, to Christ and to heaven with 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 hu- mility — ' it may prove a blessing to his soul.' A few extracts from her correspondence will afford striking illustration 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. 18, 1827. ' My chief reason for writing to-day is, that this poor wretched girl dwells upon my mind. You make good reflec- tions, but these very reflections ought to lead us to do some- thing 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 answer 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 may we not be the means of removing her thence, into the family of saved sinners, of which God's mercy has made us members 1 I cannot rest till something is tried. So young, and so brought up, what better could be expected from her 1 What should we have been under her disadvantages 1 1 tremble even to 200 - MEMOIR OF 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 providence, 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 con- cern, however, this messenger of mercy never reached the hands of her for whom it was intended, and who was soon af- terwards transported. Shortly afterwards she again stimu- lates her friend to this work of love, with the solemn impulse connected with the concerns of a never-dying soul. Jan. 11, 1828. 4 1 beseech you to reflect, that on one hand this girl may be a subject of regret to you upon a bed of death. On the other hand, she may be to you a "crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus." ' The fervour that pervades the following letter, is deeply af- fecting. March 18, 1828. 4 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 frivolous temper which dictated it. Yes, my dear friend, if we love the Lord Jesus, we have always a subject of the deep- est interest — enough to employ our tongue and our pen, both morning, noon, and night. I would fain make him the sub- ject 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 any thing 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 alien- ated from God, to whom we can only be "made nigh by the blood of Jesus." Do not let us deceive ourselves in so im- portant 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 Sa- viour, " 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 201 are but vanity. This is the peace and the joy, which I would intreat you to seek after. But you will say to me — ' Why do you recommend it 1 and why are you so uncharitable as to suppose I do not possess it already V It is because 1 know what a great and entire change it requires in the whole heart and character. I am sensible, that such is the utter sinfulness of my own heart, that nothing 1 but a Divine influence could have led me to see any thing 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 1 This is the hope that induces me to venture upon writing to you so freely ; and the very affectionate interest 1 feel in every thing relating 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 — I will add — perplexity. I could not conceive from what part of mine you had discovered, that I thought holiness unnecessary to a Christian. My dear friend, Tknow (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 ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves;" and, "without me" — saith Christ — "ye can do nothing." As this is not a matter of little importance, but one of life and death, let me most earnestly and affectionately 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 heart." I have mentioned this way of prayer to you, because I believe we might write about these things for ever, without coming nearer to the truth. Prayer is the way of God's appointment ; and I never knew any one who really prayed earnestly and perseveringly for Divine teaching, that was not brought at length heartily to subscribe to what are called evangelical S 202 MEMOIR OF doctrines. The Scriptures take away all hope of our under- standing 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 untaught 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 will feel constrained to make it his great desire, endeavour, and prayer, that others may learn it too. Therefore if I could write volumes to you, the little word "pray" should be the burden of them all. By prayer I do not mean that cold thing, which worldly people call prayer ; I mean such an effort, as a man 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 I have spoken to you with great freedom and plainness ; I cannot 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 eternal 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 little 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 build 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 every thing, follow him in every thing: take him alone for your guide and teacher, and cease to " lean unto your own under- standing." ' 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 nothing more heart-breaking than the situation you are now MARY JANE GRAHAM. 203 all in. I intreat 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 occasionally read to him, ot a short and affectionate prayer offered up with him, might be blessed by our merciful God to his eternal good. I will endeavour 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 weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 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 ivilling to forgive, mighty to save, a present help in every time of trouble, to every one, without exception, who is willing to be forgiven, helped, saved, and abundantly com- forted with the comfort which springs from his love, and which is, like himself, infinite and eternal. 4 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 en- treat you, as kindly and affectionately as they are meant. I cannot but long and pray, that 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 204 MEMOIR OF 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 prevent us ; for his " blood cleanseth from all sin :" he died for sinners, even the chief of sinners. Our ignorance need not dishearten us; for " he teacheth sinners in the way." O come unto this " meek and lowly" this strong and mighty, Saviour ! He is too meek and gentle to reject, and too strong and faithful to dis- appoint, 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 1 It is but asking you to be full of hap- piness 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, " for ever 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 unwilling 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 recon- ciled to him — ' No — I will not be reconciled ; 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, and comfort your distressed soul. Amen and amen. If my dear can bear thus much read to him, 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 crea- ture I am. But if I might be made the happy means of in- ducing 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 205 and wicked fear this was, when the salvation of your pre- cious soul was in question ! Yes, my dear , I will frankly own to you, that the sickness of your body, distress- ing as it 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 of your sins through Jesus Christ. I write to you as a sinner, saved by God's grace, to a sinner, whom the grace of God, and that alone, can save. I would not be so cruelly heartless as to flatter 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 was afflicted, and still afflicts you ; by all these things he knocks, he sues for admission. He will not let you rest till you open the door; and why 1 because he loves you; he would make you happy in this world, and happy for ever. He would be to you a friend, on whom you might safely lean ; on whose constant love you might safely con- fide; 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. 1 Such a friend is Jesus Christ to all those who fly to him for salvation. May he be your friend and Saviour for ever! This is the sincere prayer of, < M. J. G.' The tenderness and consideration with which she enforced these supremely important subjects upon her young friends, is noticed by those who were experimentally acquainted with it. Her gentleness and self-command were often put to the test by the coldness, 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 s 2 206 MEMOIR OP that time to reprove. Sometimes her humility and affection- ate delicacy would rebuke the carelessness of her friend, by the acknowledgment 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 faithful- ness in giving reproof, where she considered it to be needed. The following is an instructive specimen of the mode and spirit in which this high obligation will be most effectually discharged. After giving a slight sketch of some -of the leading 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 turn from every other con- sideration 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 other person ought to have the least influ- ence in preventing you from seeking the salvation of your own soul. The question is not, what do others do to be saved 1 But " what must I 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 there- fore, 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 ap- pear 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 ceremony, 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 delight; in others, with wonder; in others, with dislike and disapprobation. But my fears are drawn chiefly from the querulous and worldly strain in which most of your letters to me are written. I know that " if you have MARY JANE GRAHAM. 207 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-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." Now I look earnestly, anxiously, for some of these fruits. I look for some sign that " the love of God is shed abroad 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 Chris- tians must sometimes feel a little of this in their hearts. But sure I am, that if " the peace of God which passeth all un- derstanding, 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 be- neath your regard. 4 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, af- flicted, tormented," ones, " in patience possessed 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 therefore 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 208 MEMOIR or 44 godly sorrow," for sin, " which worketh repentance unto salvation not to be repented of." Where we may apply for this repentance, we are told in Acts v. 31. I will go on no longer in enumerating these fruits of the Spirit ; for my business is not to judge you, but to lead you to judge and ex- amine yourself. This I earnestly entreat you to do, " that you may not be judged of the Lord." And should you now, dearest , feel offended with me, it will give me the less uneasiness — both because I know that you will not in the end love me the less for having faithfully discharged my conscience 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 Scriptures 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 gar- den of delights." Her pure and spiritual mind enabled her to study this holy book with the liveliest and most profitable in- terest. Many Christians, in an over-scrupulous delicacy and unscriptural taste, seem almost to have proscribed this portion of the sacred canon from their private meditation. The book indeed is an exposition of the heavenly privilege of commu- nion with our Divine Saviour. It can only therefore be un- derstood by those who can say — "Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." The peru- sal 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 enkindling of holy affec- tions in the endearing contemplation of condescending love ; in a self-abasing sense of backslidings ; in a heavenly enjoy- ment of the presence of the Lord ; in commending his person to all around us ; in a panting desire for a closer communion 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 ac- tivity, directing her daily Christian habit (to use her own beautiful language to one of her correspondents), to * watch MARY JANE GRAHAM. 209 with the eye of love every intimation of his will, every lead- ing of his Spirit.' Such is the difference between specu- lating- upon religion, and feeling 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 con- nected with this love to her Saviour. That which gave, in her eyes, emphasis 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." Stoke, Jan. 1, 1827. 1 This time last year we were together. Does it seem as if a year had passed since then 1 Another year of sin on our part, and of mercy, free and uninterrupted, on the part of our 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, because it will be a triumphant song, and a holy and an ever- lasting song.' Her love of prayer formed one of the main features of Tier character. Every habit of her mind appeared to flow in the spirit and atmosphere of prayer. The playful exercise of her youth were in this sanctified temperament. When her cousin visited her, the day was usually commenced with a chapter from her favourite Bible, accompanied with prayer, that they might both love and serve him, of whom that book testified. This service performed, 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 compan- ion. We have already noticed the connexion of this habit with her intellectual employments, whether indulging her own gratifications, or superintending the instruction of her cousin. Hers was not the unsanctified study, which is glitter, not 210 MEMOIR OF gtdd. All was consecrated to the supreme object of life, and directed to this object by the constant influence of that prin- ciple, 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 schoolfellows has recorded, ' did I enter her little room, but she proposed the reading of the Bible, and would pour out her soul before her God with holy fervour and sim- plicity.' Her public exercises of Christian devotedness were conducted in the same spirit. When engaged in the work of Sunday School tuition, she had her set times of prayer with her young cousin (who was at jthat time associated with her) for themselves, their fellow-labourers, and their responsible charge ; and frequently she would offer distinct and separate supplication for each child in their classes. Her reponsibility as a member 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 sub- ject of intercessory prayer. Besides these constant occasions, she set apart special times for secret dedication and communion with God. New-year's-day and birthdays were among these privileged seasons. It was one of her favourite plans to set apart occasionally a certain time exclusively for prayer and Scripture reading ; and for this purpose all her other employ- ments were removed from her sight. This was her prepara- tion 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 charac- ter (and one that is happily making advance throughout 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 precept, she might be said to " pray without ceas- ing ;" and, like the man after God's heart, " to give herself unto prayer." Love to the whole word of God was also a prominent fea- ture in her character. Indications of this holy pleasurable taste were visible in her childhood, in the large portions which she committed to memory. 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 211 ground for this self-accusation, it was however intended as a hint to her less thoughtful companion, and to introduce before her a plan that might be useful to them both— that of repeat- ing 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 Melanc- thon calls ' that sacred manna of the soul, to which St. Paul alludes, when he speaks of spiritually discerning' the sacred pages. Often under protracted bodily and spiritual 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 we have found her intreating her con- fidential correspondent to communicate to her any additional and interesting light 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 indis- posed 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 Scripture with a close and perse- vering habit of meditation and prayer, always keeping in mind her Master's stimulating motive to the search — " For they are they which testify of me." Hence she was delighted in the course of her study of the Book of Proverbs to have Christ so much and so frequently brought before her mind ; a recollection of great moment for the spiritual discernment of the Divine wisdom treasured up in this store-house of practi- cal instruction. The encouraging promise held out to diligent investigators of the Sacred Volume on one occasion fixed her in intense meditation for upwards of two hours. She appear- ed to be lost in astonishment and gratitude at the condescen- sion and kindness of God, in giving^, promise so rich, so free, so encouraging. She grasped it, as if determined not to let it go. She frequently employed herself in the profitable ex- ercise of " comparing spiritual things with spiritual" — Scrip- ture with itself; thus, making God his own interpreter. 212 MEMOIR OF Much light and heavenly unction she conceived herself to have obtained by this means, which were manifested to others, unconsciously to herself, in her striking remarks and apt il- lustrations of passages presented to her. The wholeness of her study already noticed is worthy of careful consideration. There was no exclusive 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 speci- fic purposes for which it was written, and which it is the ex- ercise of prayer and diligence to investigate. But we will state her admirable views of the temper re- quisite for the study of the Sacred Book in her own words. 1 We shall never' — she remarks — ' become perfectly recon- ciled to all parts of the word of God, until He himself be- stows on us the spirit and temper of a little child, to receive, without murmuring or disputings or carnal reasonings, what- soever Jehovah the Spirit is pleased to say to us. That Spi- rit alone can take away the evil heart of unbelief, which pre- vents us from embracing the whole counsel of God, as re- vealed 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 childlike simplicity was the spirit of the most pro- found reverence. It is most edifying to remark her humble adoring search into " the deep things of God," as contrasted with the unhallowed boldness with which, these unfathom- able depths are too often explored. After noticing objections to her views of the doctrine of election, she checks herself— 1 But I stop ; " he that reproveth God, let him answer it." All 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 ob- scurity ; but the eye of faith sees in them no darkness at all. For faith, instead of vainly striving to pull these things down to the level of reason, soars far above reason ; resolves every difficulty into the gracious will or wise permission of God, and seeks to know no further. How many things are there which I know not, nor " can by" any "searching find out to per- fection !" 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 213 not be afraid." All that my God says to me I will implicitly 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 that understandeth, 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 undaz- zled 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 honour" with special manifestations of his favour. "The secret of the Lord is with them that 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 re- ception 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 fogetting that God is the author of every particle of reve- lation. Therefore to reject any one 'jot or tittle of it' — as Dr. Owen has excellently observed — 'is a sufficient demon- stration, that no one jot or tittle of it is received as it ought. Upon whatever this title and inscription is — ' The word of Jehovah' — 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 indeed is the pulse of the soul — not at- tendance on them, but delight in them — fellowship with the panting desires of the holy Psalmist — when he envied even the birds who inhabited 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 health " the gate of heaven." In her time of affliction, ministers and ordinances were to her " wells of salvation," from whence she " drew water with joy." " Beautiful" in her eyes " were the feet of him that bringeth T 214 MEMOIR OF good tidings, that publisheth peace." She loved the mes- sengers of the gospel " for their work's sake," and for their Master's sake. She always expressed the deepest anxiety to receive through them "a message from God" to her soul. 1 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 brethren" — that conscious and unequivocal mark of a transition " from death unto life." She longed to see, converse, and enjoy fellowship with all who bore the image of her Lord ; and whether absent or present, she seemed to hold communion with them. Speaking of an absent friend, who 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 honour for us, who have been made partakers of the tempter's work, to be made partakers of the Saviour — 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 1 April 9, 1827. ' I intreat you to think more of the privilege of intercession, and to make more use of it than ever. 1 find an indescrib- able delight in using these words — "Our Father" — and in praising, confessing, and praying for myself as one of this large family — in praying for myself as one with 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 1 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 1 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 MARY JANE GRAHAM. 215 for you.V ' Oh 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.' Again, about a month after, to the same — May 5, 1827. 'I beseech you to seek earnestly "the communion of saints." This is the only progress 1 have made in the Di- vine life. I have received as a most precious and unmerited gift the power of feeling, the things of the flock 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 light and unstable, but generally) an hour every evening to prayer, and principally to interces- sion. I generally begin with the thanks due to God, for hav- ing 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 im- possible for me to tell you the great delight of thus mixing myself up with the people 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 succoured under temptation ! how many recovered from their backslidings ! 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 ne- cessities of my Christian friends. Besides, I have a list of unconverted persons for whom I wish to pray. I do intreat you to study with prayer the thirteenth chapter of 1st Corinth- ians. I am most anxious that you should enjoy this happi- ness; and if you ask, you will do so.' In the next letter we find her mind exercised upon this in- teresting 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 ' 216 MEMOIR OF that all the flock of Christ had more, very much more, of this law. O 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 to- wards us." That will make us love.' To another beloved friend she expresses herself with simi- lar warmth and intensity. 1 How shall I, who am so full of sin, think to say any thing that may be useful to you, my dear friend 1 Yet per- haps "the comfort, wherewith I have been comforted of .God," in trying to spread your sorrows before him, may be communicated to your soul, while I am telling 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 re- joice with one another. When I was trying to pray, I en- deavoured to think of a verse, which I might 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 ws." But oh ! the comfort that filled my soul, when I thought 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! that he is praying the same thing for us now ! and finally, that " the Father heareth him always/" 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 be 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 fel- lowship one with another ; and " we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." May you be enabled to use more boldness at the throne of MARY JANE GRAHAM. 217 grace, to " draw near in full assurance of faith," and claim what Jesus, who 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 apart of your purchased possession ; and nothing can keep you out of your right, but 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 answer- ed 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 in- creased exertion and expectancy as a means of preparation for it. We want to change our indolent anticipation of this union perfected in heaven for the immediate personal exer- cises of faith, patience, forbearance, and humility, by which " our hearts may be knit together in love," even in the midst of the incessant conflicts of the church ; and we shall then be ready to help each other's labours, and hail each other's success. The present aspect of the church is indeed most afflicting. We would not narrow the necessary breach between the church and 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 beauty ?" — as " a city com- pact together 1 ?" "For the divisions of" one. tribe in Israel " there were great searchings of heart." How careful, there- fore, 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 primitive glory, when " the whole multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul" — when 'the church' — as Chrysos- tom observes — 'was a little heaven.' The motives to attempt, as far as in us lies, the restoration of this glory to the church are most constraining — such as fellow- t 2 218 MEMOIR OF ship with the spirit and prayer of our glorious Head — his honour in the world exalted by this heavenly spectacle — the Church in every part " edifying itself in love" — the Chris- tian profession established — 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 in 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 ourselves." 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 receiveth us, to the glory of GW." Great indeed is the difficulty of holding conscientious differ- ences in brotherly love. We are too apt to magnify the points of difference, while the due proportion of the points of agree- ment is somewhat obscured. We are more ready to dispute upon the points of controversy, than to strengthen each other in brotherly communion upon the principles of Christian love and unity. Thus our inordinate love of our own opinions leads us to press them beyond their legitimate bounds, and even beyond our sober intentions ; and from this defect of connecting humility and forbearance with faith, many schisms arise in the body. Would that there were among us one heart and one pur- pose, to exalt our Divine Master — to let every name be lost in his — to desire no name to be great but his ! But the canker of the church is that party spirit — more or less com- mon 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 private selfishness, (sometimes cloaking itself under the garb of conscience,) and MARY JANE GRAHAM. 219 party Shibboleths be merged in Christian love, no holy- brotherly communion can exist. We do not expect brother to yield to brother, bat each to submit his conscience to his great 'Head — each member to grow up into him, and to recol- lect, 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 dif- ference in religion is not a different religion — that there is a want of perfection and singleness in the clearest eye, that is an inlet for the partial introduction of darkness — 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 difference 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 ; and that in lesser points " forbearing one another in love," is the only satisfactory 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 evi- dence of testimony) is the only practicable catholicity; and to attempt a more entire agreement injdetail would be a cer- tain breach in the concord of the universal church. Yet, though unity of opinion is impracticable, unity of faith is to be constantly 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 successfully does he succeed by division among the friends of Christ, to prevent the united assault upon his own kingdom. Let 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 mid peace. " We love neither, if we love not both. If, in the professed cause of " truth" we tear the con- sciences 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 humbling and chastising his Church, and accomplishing his gracious purposes by the instruments of his loving cor- rection. CHAPTER VL Her illness and death. The period of her illness embraces a large portion of what in her case, as her father observes, ' might be not untruly called, " that long disease — her life." ' From her childhood, her health was very delicate ; and the long illness which oc- casioned her leaving school, left a debility in her constitution, from which she suffered 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 de- veloped a fatal character. For some years she was indeed able to exert herself, too often much beyond her strength, both in bodily and mental activity. She continued her intel- lectual studies with her usual vigour, till about a year after her settlement in Devon, when increasing illness constrained her to send her young pupil to school, and she was never af- terwards enabled, though she much wished it, to resume 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 con- fined to her room, and unable to be dressed. During the * 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 I have been out in the garden the second time since you left me. Ah! how delight- ful the weather was : what pleasure I felt in breathing the fresh air, in seeing the trees which begin to bud, the spring-flowers which are appearing, and in hearing the song of the birds, who seem to rejoice no less than myself in this new season. ' MEMOIR, &C. 221 whole of this period* her anxious mother slept in her chamber, watching over her with 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, pre- vented a reclining position, except when she was compelled to return to it by fainting and exhaustion. The only resource was a chair well supported with pillows, in which she sat up day and night, and from which the assistance of three per- sons was required to remove her during the last few weeks of her life. She appeared however to suffer less from de- bility 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 that engaged her attention. It was her habit to have her table placed by her bed-side every night with her books and writing materials, that she might com- mence 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. Subordi- nate to this object of supreme interest, her diligence and per- severance in study were most remarkable. When reminded that such intense application must be injurious to her health, she always replied, that she considered these diversified sources of interest as among 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 the languages were taken up. At other times the more engrossing study of mathematics fixed her mind. This in its turn was exchanged for chemistry or botany. Occasionally, when her mind was less equal to exertion, she would amuse herself with lighter employments. In the spring of her last year, she attempted to dry flowers which her parents procured for her, with the intention of forming an herbarium. But increasing indisposition frus- trated this plan. . Cutting out paper was also a favourite amusement, in which she early excelled. Her skilful use of the scissors had attracted 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 a bazaar, to be sold 222 MEMOIR OF for the benefit of her dear Spanish friends, which produced upwards of three pounds to their fund. Thus in these vari- ous 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 forgotten. When detained from the house of God by her protracted indisposition, her time and in- terest were employed in explaining the Scriptures to the servant who was necessarily occupied in attendance -upon her; and in one instance it was hoped, as well as in a former case of much earlier date, that her simple and spiritual in- structions in the household were applied with Divine unction and sovereign grace to the heart. As, however, her illness evidently approached its termina- tion, 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 manifestly their holiness, beauty, and consolation. This was (as an excellent clergyman before 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 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 de- fined ; while the colouring is heightened by the impressive manifestation of the love and faithfulness of our God and Saviour. To the last, her habits of active employment were predom- inant. Her thoughts and time were much occupied in pre- paring 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 Freeness of Divine Grace. But mature deliberation decided her in favour of the latter, as being calculated for more extensive usefulness. She was indefatigable also in MARY JANE GRAHAM. 223 her correspondence 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 follow- ing extracts from her letters, during this solemn season of daily expectancy, marks 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 application of the privileges of the gospel, to fix them to an entire devotedness 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 children of God?" This love should be enough for us. Come pain, sickness, poverty, affliction; 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] " Who shall sepa- rate him from the love of Christ." And as long as he has this love, how shall he not "rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory V 1 My dear , I would stir up your heart to make this joy your joy. O that my God would give me words of power and persuasion, and send them by his Spirit to your heart! " Awake thou that sleepest ;" awake, awake. Time is pass- ing — 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 now while he may be found, call upon him now while he is near. Draw nigh unto God, and he will draw nigh unto you." O let me remind you, not in a spirit of reproof, 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 con- firmed together. Then you seemed resolved to make the Lord indeed your God ; to be 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 224 MEMOIR OF then have you appeared to he affected by the 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 righte- ousness, and a simple trust in the atonement and righteous- ness of God your Saviour. Recall that precious time to your mind, my beloved friend. You were then beginning to be happy. Inquire how it was, that, instead of " going from strength to strength," from "glory to glory," from faith to faith," you relapsed so soon into your old uncomfortable 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 more willing to give than you to ask, more ready to hear than you to pray. Con- sider 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 these 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, " with all spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus." 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 importance 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 ! O my dear , you must find time 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 con- sequence 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 the flesh, but MARY JANE GRAHAM. 225 the things of the Spirit, who " look not at the things which are seen and temporal, but at the things which are unseen and eter- nal," who " live not to themselves, but to him who died for them, and rose again," who have " their conversation, their treasure, 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, I hope I 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 I 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 delight my 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 wilt 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, dependant upon our own efforts or righteousness ; but ordained, wrought out, and applied by God — not connected with faith, repentance, 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." July 5, 1830. 4 I find, my beloved friend, that in death no past good works, no holy endeavours or desires can give the least comfort, ex- cept as evidences that we have been accepted for Christ's sake. My sole confidence is — that I have cast my poor guilty soul entirely, and without reserve, on the free mercy of God in Christ Jesus ; casting far from me every other hope. My good works — where are they 1 I can remember none. They are too poor to think of without the profoundest humiliation. My desires and endeavours — my dear friend,! feel I should 226 MEMOIR OF insult rny holy God, by even naming them. They are, in- deed, " coverings too narrow for any one to wrap themselves in," at the moment of entering into the presence of God. But my Saviour hath cloihed me with his own perfect right- eousness, and I wrap myself round in it with unspeakable feelings of security. I examine it on every side, and find it " perfect and entire, wanting nothing." I am not afraid in this my wedding garment, to appear even before the King of kings. I think I hear my Saviour perpetually saying to me — " 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 — O may he be your God and Guide, for ever and ever.' She was usually favoured throughout the last months 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 intercourse 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 cham- ber to take leave of her for the night. The room was dark- ened, 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 of- ten 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 of feeling was mingled with cheerful delight. It was truly Hooker's ' reverend gaiety' — ' Oh !' said she one day to a friend, ' he gives me to speak to him " face to face ;" and sometimes, when I am so weak that I cannot utter words, his " Spirit helpeth my infirmities, and maketh intercession for me with groanings that cannot be ut- tered." I love to feel my weakness, that I may experience "his strength made perfect in weakness." I delight to lie low before him.t She loved to speak of the character of God. Her mind appeared to be much expanded in the contemplation of his MARY JANE GRAHAM. 227 unsearchable nature and glorious perfections. ' How delight- ful' she observed on one occasion, ' to think that " God is light, and in Him is no darkness at all." All his dispensa- tions are light ; and though now they seem dark to us, here- after, all clouds will be dispelled.' Her desires for a clear and full knowledge of God were most intense. ' What' — she exclaimed one day — ' are ten thousand worlds compared with one ray of the knowledge of God !' The ardour of her soul, unsatisfied with former mani- festations, 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 gospel preserves from the stamp of presumption. "I beseech thee; show me thy glory." Often did she intreat her minister to pray that more might be revealed to her in this world. Nor was the petition unheard. For, in reply to her dear mother's question a day or two before her death, her answer was, 4 1 could not feel happier.' The concentration of all her thoughts upon eternity was pe- culiarly striking and edifying to those around her. This main concern for the last few months of her life absorbed her en- tire interest. Nothing unconnected with it seemed to possess any claim upon her attention. The engrossing delights of intellectual study were relinquished for ever. She had no en- joyment of any train of conversation, except that which direct- ly led her mind and contemplation 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 favourite authors — Romaine, Leigh ton, Milner — seemed com- paratively uninteresting. This heavenly absorption of mind is finely depicted in the following short extract from one of her late letters to a friend : Stoke 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, because I tell you the truth." But I must, 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 bless- ed Saviour, whom I believe I shall soon see face to face, 228 MEMOIR OF 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 I 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 — 1 1 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 prominently marked during her illness, and was to her the source of much heavenly enjoyment. After meditating upon her Saviour's words — "My meat is to do the will of him that sent me,"— she ob- served, — ' Though I cannot 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 inac- tive 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 removal of the Rector's family, which, how- ever, she did not live to see) was a melancholy thought. But the passing cloud was soon dissipated, and she regained her usual cheerfulness. The same warm temper of love to the Lord's people that had distinguished her general profession was ruling to the last. Even in her state of distressing weakness, she could not be satisfied without seeing some of them round her bed, that she might enjoy sensible communion with them. How- ever weak they might be in faith, or low in condition, her heart was fervently drawn out in union with them. In re- MARY JANE GRAHAM. 229 ferring 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 — ac- knowledging 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."' The expressions of her deep humility, were peculiarly striking during her illness. All her attainments in the Christian life were never thought of, but as dross and dung. Her sense of unprofitableness kept her low in the dust, while the recollections of faith, exercised in habitual application to the blood of her Redeemer, upheld her from despondency. When her minister ventured to express the advantage which his own soul had derived from attendance upon her, she ex- claimed with vehemence — ' How should such a dead dog as I am be of any use?' She sometimes seemed as if she could scarce- ly 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 was, however, combined with ardent gratitude to God as the author, and to her friends as the channel, of all her mercies. Every attention, every act of kindness from her parents and nurses, excited the most lively emotions of thankfulness. Speaking one day of the kindness of her nurses, her minister observed, — 'But oh! how kind, how much kinder is Christ S ' Yes' — she replied — 1 but even all this kindness of the creature flows to me through his love, his kindness.' Thus did all her earthly comforts re- ceive a double relish — thus also were her bitterest trials sweetened by being traced up to their Divine source, and by flowing into her soul through the delightful channel of the mediation of her Saviour. The same flood that had nourished her throughout her jour- ney, continued to supply strength and vigour for the last ef- forts. Her Bible was more invaluable than ever to her. It was her constant practice before she went to rest, to repeat a text to her beloved mother, and to require one in return — as- signing as a reason, that she might have them to think upon after she was gone.* She pursued the same habit of Scriptural * A few months before her death, she presented her little Bible to her mother, having obtained from her the assurance, that she u2 230 MEMOIR OP repetition with her affectionate 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" — was her favourite 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 of his person- ality, and found the contemplation of it most refreshing to her soul. She would often speak with comfort of her expe- perience of his distinct influence 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 Gambol d's beautiful hymn, ' That I am thine, my Lord and God,' &c. was' a great favourite. Cowper and Toplady also, were a source of great delight to her. 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 at- tacks of violent pain. She feared, however, that she had too long neglected it, and could not be satisfied without the re- freshment of this holy ordinance. When speaking of it be- fore 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 bless- ing in the fulfilment of the last command of her dying Lord. Nor was she disappointed. Twice she received the sacred emblems from the hands of the venerable rector of the parish (since departed to his rest) ; and in the following affecting letter written in pencil with great difficulty immediately after one of these occasions, she expressed to him her grateful ac- knowledgment of the consolations which he had instru- mentally imparted to her soul. would read a chapter "every day with prayer. In order to keep this 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 read it to me while I am here.' MARY JANE GRAHAM. 231 ' 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 hear- ing, and weakened my power of speaking ; 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 till 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 the thought of our meeting ere long, through the same free grace, at the marriage sup- per of the Lamb. ' I wish to write these few lines to explain my own feel- ings 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 has never been properly explained to you, that though I feel unable to talk to you, I should be most happy to listen to you. 4 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 bodily sufferings, was such as might have been expected from the known and tried faithfulness of her God. Such was her enjoyments at some seasons of agony — that her * pains,' as she said on one occasion, " were sweeter than honey or the honey comb." At one of her times of distress she remarked — ' 1 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, according to the glorious power of God, unto all patience and long-suffer- ing with joyfulness." It is almost needless to add, as the concluding article of detail — that the sting of death was removed from her. 4 It is not death to me' — she would say — ' Jesus hath tasted death for me, and hath drunk up all its bitterness.' The prospect 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. 232 MEMOIR OF 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 jou are not fully acquainted with those things, which can afford real and solid satisfaction on a near view of death. You speak of feeling satisfaction in death, as it affords a cessation from all pain. Dearest , did you re- member at the time, that death is something more than a ces- sation 1 — that it is an entrance into an eternal 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 tell 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 I am called back to the things of time for a little longer, if 1 can be of the least use to one of my fellow-sinners and sufferers here, I shall not re- gret the delay. It is not the cessation from pain, that can make Christians view the approach of death with satisfac- tion. 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 know how he "strengthens them upon the bed of languishing, and how he makes all their bed in their sickness ;" you would almost envy them even their pains, sweetened as they are by " the peace of God which passeth all understanding !" Wherein do they rejoice ? In the hope of being " for ever 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 un- speakable and full of glory." Oh ! to behold this " King in his beauty" and beholding, to be transformed into his glori- ous likeness ! and then to cease from sin ! this is the blessed cessation after which real Christians pant. To love their holy and reconciled God without any coldness or unfaithful- ness ; to offend him no more by one unholy, or rebellious, or selfish or unbelieving thought ', to be pure as he is pure; to MARY JANE GRAHAM. 233 be " without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing ;" and then to praise him, to give him glory, to cast our blood-bought crowns at his feet, through the countless ages of eternity ! 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 comparison. 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 creature, 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 cannot lie, hath said it. But pray, pray, O pray to him, that he would thus con- vert 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 realized in the fullest perception and assur- ance, her entrance into the world of blessedness. Her fre- quent reference to her departure 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 oc- casion — 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 exclaimed — ' If the Lord should come and take me this night — but, oh ! that is too much to hope for.' After a violent attack of coughing and spasm, a friend ob- served — ' I fear you suffer much.' ' Oh, no !' — she replied — i 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 he had supposed. This, however, was but a momentary feeling. For, upon her mother's reminding her — 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 beloved saint, who had died in the triumph of the gospel — she remarked — 234 MEMOIR OF * Well; I shall have one friend more to welcome me, when the Lord's time shall come to "administer" to me also " an entrance into his everlasting kingdom." Oh, bless- ed hope! happy sinners saved by the blood of Jesus.'' Then she adds this affectionate exhortation — ' Oh, my dear, my beloved friend, I 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 intel- ligence of the sudden death of another Christian friend — she exclaimed — '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; like 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 heaven.' 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 Chris- tian 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 af- fections. Generally, however, the ardency of her desires appeared to be subdued to a resignation to the Divine will. Thus in reference to her dissolution she writes to the aged minister who, during her residence in London, had been the means of communicating established peace to her soul — 1 Blessed be my all-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 de- part, she checked herself, and added — 'But I am willing to sit here a hundred or a thousand years, if it be the will of God.' Her mind maintained its vigorous character in the midst of her protracted sufferings. The subjects of ber conversa- tion 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 angels; the state of separate spirits ; the prospects of the church of Christ. It is much to be regretted that no particular details of tbese con- versations are preserved. The resurrection and future glory of the body were favourite subjects with her. She delighted to dwell upon 1 Cor. xv. * What a wonderful change' — she MARY JANE GRAHAM. 235 observed on one occasion — 'takes place in nature in the acorn ; which from so small and insignificant a seed after- wards expands and grows into a noble tree, the glory of the forest ! What a remarkable transformation also is that of the oaterpillar ; which, after having been changed into apparently- dead matter, at the appointed time bursts its shell, and be- comes 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 possi- bility of that great change, which will take place at the resur- rection day, when " this vile body shall be fashioned like unto the glorious body" of our Lord?' For a short time, however, before her death, the enemy was permitted to harass her soul, and her lively apprehensions of the gospel were occasionally obscured. At one of these times she said to her minister, ' Christ is not so precious to me as he deserves.' ' No,' it was replied, * he is so to none.' 4 But' she added, 'he "feeds me with food convenient for me," though I do not experience those spiritual enjoyments I so ardently long for.' Of a distressing season of temptation which happened about this time, her minister writes, ' I shall never forget the state of her mind. It^seemed as if " a hor- ror of great darkness had fallen upon her." ' Oh' she said, ' I cannot pray ; I can only utter words. It is mere wind.' She earnestly called upon me to strengthen her, by repeating the promises of the gospel. God at that time seemed to give me words. For when I scarcely knew what to say, words of effectual consolation were put into my mouth. Once in her impatience to hear the word, she exclaimed, ' Oh ! say some- thing to me from God — whether a word of comfort or re- proof.' I think of that proverb, " The full soul loatheth the ho- ney-comb ; but to the hungry soul every bitter thing is sweet." At these times of " needful heaviness, through manifold temptations," while " walking in darkness, and having no light," she was, however, manifestly enabled to "trust in the name of the Lord, and to stay upon her God." She could not enjoy the full manifestation of her God, which she had known in times past — ' Yet, though' she said, ' I cannot love God with that warmth which I so earnestly desire, I can act faith upon Him.' She complained much of deadness in prayer. Yet her faith was in exercise, upholding her soul upon the sure word of promise, that her Lord would return to her in his own best time. She would at such seasons cheer her soul by repeating suitable promises. " When the poor 236 MEMOIR OP and needy seek for water, and there is none, and their tongue i aileth them for thirst, I the Lord will hear them ; I the God of Jacob will not forsake them." On this encouraging pro- mise she rested in one of her seasons of distress and desertion. At another time she would say — "Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy : when I fall, I shall arise : when I sit in dark- ness, the Lord shall be a light unto me." And again — " The Lord my God shall enlighten my darkness." At these times of trial, the book of Canticles was much upon her mind." " By night I sought my Beloved, but I found him not." Then she added, ' but I sought not in vain.' She appeared at this time much enlivened in speaking of her Saviour as represented under the figure of the bridegroom. ' He loves us to such a degree, that he seeks after us, he desires, he delights in us, all which is to be seen in this wonderful portion of Scripture.' At another of these times she remarked, that often in the ex- perience of the Lord's servants, a season of darkness had pre- ceded some special manifestation of his love. Thus, as she observed, ' Jacob wrestled a whole night ; and it was not until the break of day that the angel revealed himself. Thus for a while our Lord seemed to disregard the cry of the Canaanitish woman ; but " the trial of her faith was" eventually " found to praise, and honour, and glory." Thus also the disconso- late state of the disciples in their journey to Emmaus was the prelude and harbinger of a blessed display of their Master's light and love.' The dark clouds which " for a small moment" had been permitted to spread themselves over her soul, were however shortly dispelled ; and " at evening time it was light." Her extreme weakness indeed prevented her utterance ; but the few words that could be gathered from her, were descriptive of the peace and joy that reigned within. 'My weakness' she said, * reposes on his strength — my folly on his wisdom.' When her minister, in allusion to her late painful exercises, observed, ' God was " leading her by the right way to the city of habitation" ' — she replied — ' Oh ! yes — but how different is the case of those, who " wander in the wilderness in a soli- tary way, and^rac? no city to dwell in !" ' In the last visit of this beloved attendant — v God' — she said to him — ' is the rock of my salvation.' Then speaking of her being detained in her earthly tabernacle — she added — ' It is a comfort to think that " Christ has the keys of death and of hell." All is well. May God be with you, during the remainder of MARY JANE GRAHAM. 237 your pilgrimage ! I can only lie as an infant in the hands of Her bodily sufferings at the last period were most severe, arising from a complication of diseases. Her lungs, which had been supposed to be sound, were discovered after her death to be fatally diseased. Her heart also was found to be enlarged. Her weakness and inability to recline for so many weeks, produced dropsy in her feet and legs. This was, however, from time to time relieved by incision. Her life terminated at last by a rapid mortification in one of her legs. The last day of her life was a day of intense agony. She was obliged to take doses of opium, which before, she could not touch, so that the day and night, till she expired, were passed in a doze, or in the most violent suffering. A few words only were preserved at this affecting crisis. A day or two before her death, she cried — ' Come, Lord Jesus; come quickly; "nevertheless not my will, but thine be done."' At another time, speaking of " the glory that shall be reveal- ed" — she exclaimed — " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard ; neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." Alluding to those who watched by her side, she said — ' What a comfort that we are not watching alone. " He that keepeth Israel, shall neither slumber nor sleep." Then again, shortly after, " I know whom I have believed." Then again, in a moment of excruciating suffering to her mother, ' Pray for me, that my patience may not fail me at the last.' The last words she was heard to utter before her death in a moment of deep agony, were, ' I am come into deep waters ; O God my rock, " hold thou me -up, and I shall be safe." The next morning, on Friday, December 10, 1830, without a sigh or struggle, she entered into her eternal rest. Thus upheld by the good hope of the gospel— thus having displayed in lovely concord the diversified graces of the Christian profession — thus having been abundantly refreshed by the consolations of Christ, this blessed sufferer, this ran- somed sinner, this victorious believer, fell asleep in the arms of her Saviour and her God. She heard, and gladly obeyed the call of her Lord—' " Gome up hither." Lay down the cross, and take the crown.' " To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and set down with my father in his throne" V CHAPTER VII. REMARKS. The writer, in bringing this interesting sketch to a close, ventures to crave further indulgence of his reader in drawing out a few points of important and suitable application. First, The review of Miss Graham' 's painful, though tempo- rary, apostacy marks the great moment of being well-grounded in the elementary principles of the Gospel. A few hints may- be here suggested to the inquiring and serious mind. First, the danger of a cavilling temper. Here lurks the first rising of the spirit of infidelity. Miss Graham's natural character was especially open to this temptation. Indeed this is the fleshly indulgence of every intellectual mind undisciplined by the principles of the Gospel. It gratifies the love of dis- tinction. It is the worship of self, that worst idol, that most subtle enemy of vital religion. " Vain man would be wise, though man be born like a wild ass^s colt" is the Divine and pointed illustration of the folly and littleness of this natural principle of the heart. Solid satisfaction and rest in the Scriptural revelation will only be found in cultivating what Calvin calls — 'a kind of learned ignorance,' a well-instructed contentment to be ignorant of what God has foreborne to de- clare. But to begin with the speculative instead of the prac- tical truths of Revelation, and to insist upon an explanation of its difficulties as a pre-requisite to the acknowledgment of its authority, and personal application of its truths — this spirit resists faith, the appointed medium of Divine light ; and thus gives to infidelity all its force, and leaves the heart the unconscious victim of its own delusions. The more we are disentangled from speculative inquiries, and occupied in the pursuit of Scriptural truth, the more settled will be our con- MEMOIR, &C. 239 viction of the genuineness of the testimony, and our conse- quent enjoyment of its privileges. Let us not therefore trifle with temptation, by suffering the objections of a cavilling in- fidelity to " lodge within us." Let us instantly bring them to the test of conscience, "to the law and to the testimony." Thus let us " resist the devil, and he will flee from us." Secondly, We would inculcate an implicit faith in the Divine Record. And here we trace the source of all the sin and misery that have deluged the world for nearly six thousand years. God's unchangeable declaration, " Thou shalt surely die," was diluted to an uncertainty. Thus when confidence in the word of God was weakened, Satan's lie easily pre- vailed. On the other hand, how fully did Miss Graham's unreserved reliance on the promise, "Ask, and it shall be given you," recover her fine mind to its true position ; en- trenched upon the supreme authority of Scripture; prostrate in a sense of her ignorance; honouring her God, -and honoured by him, in a trembling reverential submission to his word. How many cavilling questions arise in the defect of this spirit ! The difficulties which cannot be presently explained are considered reasonable grounds for unbelief. Man, under the pretence of a desire to satisfy his doubts, rebels against what he does not understand, and begins to "reply against God." But in fact we want not more light, but more hu- mility. Herein consists the important difference between the caviller and the sincere inquirer. The one questions, specu- lates, and is dissatisfied. The other in the consciousness of his " blindness," is willing to be " brought by a way that he knew not, and to be led in paths that he had not known." He follows under the guidance of the Spirit of Truth, like Abraham under the direction of Providence, step by step in implicit faith. He asks not, "How can these things be?" but, "Thus saith the Lord," determines all his difficulties without gainsaying. And this practical acknowledgment of the supremacy of Scripture is the just demand of God. We must not, according to the principles of neology, degrade the authority of his word, by subjecting it to trial at the bar of reason. We must not descend from our hi